The Suicide Diary (6 page)

"He hasn't called. Why hasn't he called?" I thought aloud.

I’d gotten one of those flip open phones, and whenever I got a rare message it would flash blue and brightly announce to the world that someone out there was thinking of me. That was unless of course, it was an automated message from my service provider. I never did trust that little light on my phone to flash when I got a message. What if it had stopped working and I hadn't known there was a message sitting patiently in my inbox. And so I could never resist the need to flip open my little phone just to check. Okay, so no messages or missed calls.

Maybe there’s no signal, so I move around the room waving it about for a few seconds hoping an increase in the number of bars might result in the arrival of a message. Maybe it was a few minutes but still to no avail. This was ridiculous, he probably asked me as a joke anyway and I was wasting my time waiting on a call that would never come, when I should have been organising stuff for college. I had a to-do list and another list of items I needed to buy, so my Mother was going to take me shopping that afternoon. I pulled an outfit of jeans and a t-shirt from my wardrobe and made my way to the bathroom for a shower.

After I had washed, brushed my teeth, dried and brushed out my hair and got dressed, I trudged down the stairs for breakfast. I knew I was moping but my Mother wouldn’t know the reason and I didn’t think it would be wise to tell her that her sheltered seventeen year old daughter was impatiently waiting for a call from a confident nineteen year old guy. I plastered a smile across my cheeks and chatted about which shops we might go to later.

An hour later we were ready to go and I ran upstairs to grab my bag and my phone. I saw the bright flashing the moment I swung open the door and ran across the floor to grab it, only to slide and fall back on to the rug beneath me. I scolded myself as I rubbed my bruised knee with one hand and reached again for my phone with the other.

“Are you okay up there?” my Mother’s voice floated up the stairs.

“Yes I’m fine.” I replied through gritted teeth.

I opened my phone and clicked the button to read the message. “
Cancel whatever you’re doing tonight. I’m taking you out. Pick you up at 8ish.”

My eyes drifted to my wardrobe and my heart sank, I know that girls often say they have nothing to wear, but I really had nothing at all appropriate to wear on a date with an older guy to a restaurant. Wanting to look like the girls I had seen at the party, I knew I needed to find something to wear. Unfortunately I had two brothers and then as beautiful as my Mother always looked, she was a dress size bigger than me and her outfits were a bit more mature, classy than I thought a seventeen year should wear on a proper date.

I doubted Sarah would even consider doing something that didn't benefit her and since school ended weeks ago, most of the others would have been surprised to hear from me so borrowing anything was out of the question. It was entirely my own fault but I wanted to start fresh at university. It was still over three months until I headed to Fresher’s week so I had yet to make any new friends.

“I’m getting in the car Nina, I could always go and buy everything for you - I saw some adorable pink…” began my Mother.

“I’m coming!” I returned and flew down the stairs.

I climbed in to the car and we set off of the city, it was a long drive so I had plenty of time to casually bring up going out that evening and why I needed a sort of sexy, but of course, entirely age-appropriate dress – was there even such a thing? Thankfully I still had most of my birthday money so at least I didn’t have to ask my Mother if she would pay for an outfit for me. She had a great job doing something in the property industry, nevertheless as a single Mum of three kids, I never thought it right to ask for more than she gave us.

We made our way to a stationery shop first and worked through my list of pens and notebooks etc. then looked around a few clothing shops until I had a few pairs of nice jeans and some tops that I could layer as the weather began to turn. We had done well within the two hours we had been there and I suggested stopping for lunch.

The café was busy but we managed to find a two seated table in the corner and looked through the menu before deciding on soup and a sandwich each. I ordered an orange juice and my Mother took a black coffee and we sat and people watched as we had always loved to do together.

“So you’re off out tonight then, is it Sarah you’re going with? asked my Mother.

“Yes.” I replied without even a beat. I had just lied to her and although I knew it was wrong, it just felt simpler than the truth so I continued. “It’s just dinner and a catch up with the girls from school before we all head off to college. I thought I could finally spend some of my birthday money and get a nice dress.”

“Good idea, I was wondering if you were ever going to spend it!” She smiled at me then asked the waitress for the bill.

We spent another hour in and out of shop after shop until I found a simple, pale dusky pink, strapless dress that was pretty without being overtly sexy, which I felt more comfortable with. It was loose fitting with a little gold belt; it came down to just below my knees and gave the slight illusion I had more up top than I actually had. Along with a new pair of pale gold shoes and a small clip for my hair and I had my outfit. I had a small clutch bag at home that my Grandmother had gifted me from her extensive vintage collection.

We got home just after 4o’clock and I ran upstairs to get ready. It had been much easier to get ready when I was meeting Conor – I hadn’t thought of him in a while but I knew I had been far less nervous before going on dates with him. I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not, although I had heard the girls in school talking about the ‘
butterflies
’ and I had never felt that with Conor.

I kept my make-up simple and my Mother curled the ends of my hair so it hung in loose waves down my back. I pulled my dress on, applied lip gloss, and fastened on my shoes.

As I stood in front of the mirror to check myself over, my Mother came in to offer me one of her little jackets. She paused when she looked at me. “You look beautiful Nina. Really grown up.” she said and smiled but there was a sadness in her voice too. “What time are you meeting the girls?” she asked.

I looked at the clock and realised it was only 7o’clock; I was too early and I was hungry again but I didn’t want to spoil my dinner, so I put music on again and began painting another coat of nail polish on my nails.

At 7:45pm my phone flashed with a message from Chris, ‘
Running late sorry. I’ll meet you there about quarter past - looking forward to seeing you again x.
’ I hesitated before calling to book a taxi – for a few moments I imagined myself the victim of a joke sitting alone in the restaurant while Chris and his stunning girlfriend arrived to have dinner.

I'd already told my Mother my fake excuse for going out so I couldn't really back out without faking some kind of illness. Admittedly, the humiliation of being stood up had been part of the reason I hadn’t told her the truth about the date in the first place, and now I would have no one to agree how much of an asshole he was if he didn't turn up. Not that my Mother would use such a word, and besides a secret was better than her pity. I was shaken from my thoughts by the taxi horn beeping from the street outside and I headed out after saying goodbye to my Mother.

As I watched the ice in my glass shrink smaller and smaller, it started to feel like being stood up might be reality. Almost every other table in the restaurant was full with couples talking in low voices and large groups laughing and chattering over one another. I had already looked around the room three times, so I sat rigid in my seat trying not to fidget or look around the room again too anxiously.

Suddenly the seat across from me was pulled out I looked up to see Chris looking down at me. I’d been sat there for seventeen minutes, but I was so glad he actually turned up that it didn’t even cross my mind to frown at him.

He slipped his coat from his shoulders and hung it over the back of the chair.

“Hello beautiful.” he said.

I just stared at him in wonder and brushed off the compliment.

“Hi Chris, you look…” incredible, gorgeous, perfect. “…good.” I replied.

“Thanks I had a job interview earlier, hence the suit.” He undid the buttons at his wrists and pushed up his sleeves. It was such a normal thing to do and yet watching his hands, I began to wonder what it would feel like to have them around my waist.

It really wasn’t fair that he’d been at a - most likely stressful - interview and didn’t have a hair out of place, while I had spent hours getting ready and still wouldn’t look as good as he did if I’d had a team of stylists, make-up artists and hairdressers work on me for twenty-four hours straight.

Chris ordered a bottle of wine and I sat holding my breath hoping the waitress wouldn't ask me for identification. However, the magnetism I'd noticed at the party seemed to be a constant for him, as the waitress smiled and offered a selection with a suggestion of one in particular.

"I'm starving; shall we decide what to eat?" My horror in being caught staring at him meant I nodded my head and buried my face in the pages of the menu that had entertained me while I'd waited for him. Thankfully my Mother was keen on family dinner at various restaurants so the dishes were not too unfamiliar.

Once we had ordered, the bottle of wine was brought to the table and our glasses were filled with the sweet, fruity liquid. Again, I was grateful to my Mother as her belief had always been to bring up her children with a healthy respect for alcohol by introducing it to us gently under her own roof. I always wondered if she took the notion from my father's Italian heritage or simply thought it better than becoming the holy grail of teenagers and having our first taste of alcohol through peer pressure. This wine was sharper than I liked but I sipped it slowly and felt a little less out of place.

"You look very pretty, that colour suits you." He smiled and his eyes ran down my front.

"Thank you, it was just something I had in my wardrobe." I replied with lie number one.

"So, what have you been up to since I saw you at the party?" he asked.

"Oh, I've been pretty busy with getting organised for university, so my friends and I have been shopping for clothes and books." Lie two, at least it was mostly true apart from the friends part.

“I never did the Uni thing; my Dad had a friend who works in advertising and got me a job right out of school. I thought at the time I could study later, you know go back after I’d got some work experience. Now I just think that the whole point of Uni is to get a job at the end of it and I already have a job I love so it seems kinda pointless.” He shrugged and lifted his glass to finish off his wine.

Chris made it easy to talk to him, gently teasing details of my life from me and patiently answering the few questions I asked of him. He told me about the promotion he wanted by next year and where he saw himself in another five. To a seventeen year old girl, he seemed so ambitious despite being only two years older. Chris had grown up with his dad and a younger brother, but I didn’t ask after his Mother since he hadn’t mentioned her. I was grateful he didn’t ask me too many questions, since after our chat at the party there really wasn’t much left for me to say.

The meal was delicious but I took my time with my glass of wine so he only topped up his own - as tempting as it was to drown my nerves, I was perfectly capable of embarrassing myself sober so I didn't need the added help. I was also conscious of trying to act like a legal adult and not a teenager taking advantage.

After dinner Chris took me to a bar and after another small glass of wine I began to relax. It seemed almost too sudden that our evening together came to a close and I had to say goodnight to him.

I glanced at my watch to find the hands had spun through the last three hours and it was almost twelve o’clock. “I’ve had a really nice time, but I should probably say goodnight soon.” Was I asking permission or telling him?

“It’s still early!” He disputed. He hadn’t even looked at his watch, but the bar had only begun to get busy in the last hour.

"I've got a ton of stuff to do in the morning, so midnight's kind of my self-imposed curfew." Actually it was my Mother-imposed curfew. Lie number three. I still lived with my family, while he had his own flat, so he walked with me and waited in the taxi queue. Just moments before my taxi pulled up, he pulled me close and kissed me with his mouth pressed tightly to mine. I felt self-conscious knowing there were people behind me, while Chris barely seemed to notice or care. The people in front had pulled off in their taxi and the next one drove in to its place. He broke the kiss first then kissed me lightly on the cheek and whispered goodnight in my ear.

When I climbed into bed, I noticed my phone flashing blue and I flipped it open to find a text from Chris.
'Really enjoyed our first date. I'll see you soon x'
I fell asleep thinking this is how it should have happened the first time around.

After that night glorious, unabashed, adoration was showered upon me. It was exhilarating and new and I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing. Our second date was a double date with his friend Anthony who turned out to be the flat owner and party host from the night I had met Chris. I'd only briefly met him in between his kissing sessions with Sarah. It would have been a bit awkward since we hadn't spoken again after that, but she wasn't the girl holding Anthony's hand. I was introduced to the pretty brunette that I never met again and she wasn't the last.