Three Steps Behind You (23 page)

Adam?

No. There is nothing new there. I did not say it as expressly, in book two, which was more of a pamphlet, really. A proposal. After he proposed to Helen. But he got the idea, knew what it meant. And he rejected me. I need something bolder, this time
.

30 January 2007

AD –6
.

Today I watched some TV and ate some ice-cream from the tub
.

The people on Jeremy Kyle abused each other. The people on
Friends
laughed at each other, and then the studio audience laughed at them. Then I laughed at me
.

What will this possibly change? Adam will have been attained, once, only to be forever unobtainable. What is my goal? Where am I going with this? Why not find someone else, stop seeing Adam, get over him?

And there will not be enough food for two more weeks. And I am getting fat. Adam would find out it was me, with a belly, that would be too humiliating. No more ice-cream
.

1 a.m.

That was a blip earlier. I know that now. Because I had a dream. And I want to write it down, so I have proof, in the future. In the dream, I was Jesus, or at least I must have been, because I was walking all over the water. And then I was both Jesus and sitting next to Jesus. And he said unto me, ‘My child, do not worry. For this is your calling, and you must have faith. It can move mountains, and it can take you to West Hampstead, and to happiness. And when you come unto Him, you shall be blessed, and He shall be blessed.’ And then he/me dipped his/my hand in a glass of blood, and he/me put it on my forehead and I had this moment of pure glorious vision and ecstatic wonder at the joy of creation that seemed to go on getting even more glorious by the moment until finally, finally, when I thought I could bear no more of it, Jesus touched me again and I exploded into glory
.

I will need to change the sheets
.

31 January 2007

AD -5
.

I have been so happy today. I have the blessing of dream Jesus, and he is so totally right. This is definitely the right thing to do. And my God, I am looking forward to it now. I would pleasure myself but I want to save up the anticipation – less than a week to go. This is going to be the culmination of all it is to be me, the fulfilment of my desire, and of my existence hitherto. And, in fact, of Man’s existence. Because I am Man. And Adam is Man. So together we will be Man Plus. ++. Pie Jesu
.

1 February 2007

Adam and Dan month, we salute thee!

AD –4
.

Belinda is annoying me today. I would like to go out and get some fresh air but she is too ill. Instead, I had to stick my head out of the back window and breathe in some air. The window is too small and I nearly got stuck
.

She is also annoying me because I cannot get her voice right when I try to record her
.

All she needs to do is say, ‘Dan, Dan, where are you? Dan, I need you to come here, and help me.’

But she sounds too excited all the time, too manly
.

I will try drinking some white wine and see if that helps
.

2 February 2007

AD –3
.

Belinda sounds a little bit drunk on the tape. But people slur their words when they have MS, too, right? Mum did. And MS is what Belinda has. Poor Belinda. But she won’t have anything in about ten days’ time – we’ll be rid of each other. And I’ll have a brand-new secret
.

3 February 2007

AD -2
.

I made the big call to Adam today. On my mobile, of course – otherwise he would know I wasn’t in Bath. Helen answered, which threw me, but she found Adam soon enough. I said I was calling for a break, after the demands of caring. Belinda would have been embarrassed about what I said, if she’d existed – about how I had to bathe her, and how she had bladder weakness and I had to mop up her urine and everything. He said he was cooking dinner. I said I would be doing that soon, too. Right on cue, once I pressed the tape-recorder button, and there was Belinda saying, ‘Dan, Dan, where are you, etc.,’ in the background. Adam reacted perfectly. ‘Sounds like you’re needed, mate. See you when you’re back.’ It was so hard, not telling him that he’d see me before then. Although, of course, the idea is that he won’t see me, when I’m there. But he’ll sure as hell feel me
.

4 February 2007

AD –1
.

I have my bag packed now. Some things won’t be in my bag. Like the chloroform – I’ll need that immediately. So it’s in my jacket pocket, with the tissues, and the balaclava. With the rest of it, I can take my time a bit
.

In the bag, I have the other essentials, that I wish weren’t essential. Like the condoms. I am torn about those. I know they will stop me being as close to Adam as I would like. There will be a barrier, and the point of this exercise is to remove that barrier. But if he goes to the police, I don’t want them to have a sperm sample. Particularly if he suspects it was me. For he must never find out. I need to able to keep on seeing him. And if he knows (a) the police will lock me up; and (b) he will never speak to me again
.

I wonder what it will feel like, being inside him. Apart from the glory, of course. But the physical bit. Will it hurt at all? Will I be able to get all the way in, at first? Perhaps I should have practised on somebody else first? But no: I will be coming to him pure, uncontaminated, not tainted by past experience. Fresh from the Garden
.

I wonder if I should have got lubricant. I don’t want to hurt him. I think you’re meant to. Spit would not be a good option – too much DNA. I’ve looked in the fridge, and I don’t fancy using anything in there. Flora is not really a turn-on. Plus the condom pack says don’t use oil-based lubricants
.

I’ll have to risk it. I’ll have to go into a petrol station, wearing the balaclava
.

Hmm. Balaclava in a petrol station. Maybe not
.

At night. I can go at night. They have those little hatches, then, don’t they? And I can wear a hat, and a scarf wrapped up round my face, so they can only see my eyes. Yes. I must do that now. For Adam
.

!!!!! ADAY !!!!!! 1 a.m.

Here it is. Today is when I am in Adam. As close as close as we ever can be. And now I have the lubricant. An ordinary person would have been embarrassed buying it at a garage, shouting through a speaker with a queue behind them, ‘KY Jelly!’ But I am not ordinary. I have a vocation. And of course, the assistant serving me was either new or sexually dull or natural juicy because she did not know what it was. ‘Jelly?’ she repeated back at me. ‘We don’t have any jelly. Jelly babies?’ she offered. ‘No,’ I had to shout. ‘Lubricant, there!’ I pointed at the display behind her. ‘Ohhh,’ she said (which is probably the point of KY Jelly), seeing it next to the condoms. The person behind me in the queue told me to have a good night
.

And I will, I will have a good night. Not quite yet. But in seventeen hours’ time I will put on my balaclava, pick up my bag – which before then I will pack and unpack and make sure all is in there – and I will get into the bus. Then I will get into Narcissus Road. Then I will get into the house. And then I will get into Adam
.

3 p.m.

What if there is a technique? Should I have researched a technique? Should I have found a rent boy or a gigolo or an adventurer and found out how to do it? What if I get it wrong? You should practise. Practice makes perfect. I want to check my equipment, that it works, do a dry run with wet lube, but it’s too late now
.

4 p.m.

The chloroform bottle was leaking. I’ve had to decant it into a thermos flask. Hopefully there will still be enough
.

4.30 p.m.

What if he’s out?

What if he’s in?

6 p.m.

I can’t go through with this. He’ll know it’s me. He’ll find out. He’ll kill me. I’ll be dead in four hours
.

R.I.P. Dan
.

Here lies a man who tried but failed
.

He wanted companionship but got death
.

He was greedy. Friendship was not enough
.

Destroyer of worlds, purveyor of pain
.

May he rot outside God’s love
.

God is Love. Adam is Love. Therefore God is Adam
.

Oh
.

I must serve Him
.

7 p.m.

Now
.

MIDNIGHT – I think, maybe – what is time?

OH MY LORD OH MY LORD IT IS DONE IT IS DONE!

BUT I CANNOT WRITE I AM TOO EUPHORIC TOO TERRIFIED TOO IN AWE TOO TRAUMATISED TOO
TOO.

1 a.m.

Ha, but I must write because I understand now what this is, it is a quest and I have returned with the elixir, and I have been on this incredible journey and so I must write about the journey, like they said in Feltham. And before, before when I was worried it was the refusal of the call, but really I have been on an adventure worthy of Odysseus or Tom Jones or Luke Skywalker and what I must do is I must write it
.

But I lived it, I lived it first and OH CHRIST OH ADAM I DID IT. THE CLOSENESS THE CLOSENESS. THE INHABITATION
.

I just want to phone Adam and tell him all about it
.

2 a.m. Every a.m. With memories.

I have taken off the gloves and the balaclava now so it is easier to write. So here it is. The hero’s journey. The triumph:

The ride on the bus was awkward. People look at you funnily when you have a baseball bat and a balaclava. I tucked the baseball bat into my rucksack but people could still see it. So I got off the bus and I walked instead. Which meant I was running late. I’d meant to arrive at 8 p.m., the perfect time between Helen going out and Adam coming in and settling down
.

It was 8.30 p.m. by the time I got to Narcissus Road. Chloroform out. Bat out. A man with a dog walked passed on the other side of the street. I put the bat parallel to my leg, running stiff down the thigh he couldn’t see. He didn’t look at me. I carried on
.

The house was all dark, except for light coming out of the living room. Curtains closed. Helen out, Adam in. I went over it in my head one more time: chloroform ready, open door, close it gently, bat raised, chloroform poised, see Adam on sofa, sneak up behind, chloroform over mouth. Go
.

But Adam wasn’t on the sofa. I got in, I had my bat raised, the chloroform was ready. But he wasn’t there. I stood in the hallway outside the living room. What should I do? Should I stay, or should I go? Then I heard the downstairs toilet flush. The one coming off the hallway. Meaning he would see me if he came out
.

I fumbled to open the front door again. Quickly, quickly, it would take him only a moment to wash his hands. I got out of the front door again and shut it behind me. I ducked down beneath the doors glass panes so he wouldn’t see me. What should I do? Should I go home, give in, or try again?

[Yes, I really was right – this is a quest, a true adventure story. Danger, peril all the way. But I wonder. Did I start wrong? Should I not have given away at the beginning that I got away with it? Maybe that spoils the tension. But no. This is not a thriller. It is art. I am the hero and it is through my eyes. In my eyes are glory.]

I waited. I waited and I waited and I waited. And he must now have been sitting down because it was prime-time TV and because Helen would be home in an hour and a half and I wouldn’t get any other opportunity
.

So I put some more chloroform on a new tissue and raised my bat and opened the door again and listened. The TV spoke to me. Then so did Adam
.

‘Hello?’ he shouted
.

He must have heard the door
.

The TV went silent
.

‘Hello?’ he asked again, more quietly
.

There was a big long pause. The living-room door was closed, so he would have to get up and open it to see the door. If he did, it would have to be the bat. Or I could run upstairs and hide. But when would I come down again? I might get stuck up there all night, in the bedroom with Adam and Helen
.

Then the TV went on again. I started to exhale, then stopped myself. Noise was an enemy. I mustn’t draw attention to myself. I must be quiet
.

Next came the creeping. I did not know I was such a skilful creeper. Plush carpets help, it is true. But my silent ninja creeping skills gave me a big advantage. Up to the living-room door. Quietly, quietly. Push it open. Softly, softly. There was my prize, sitting on the sofa, like I’d imagined. Adam. Here I am for you
.

But they hadn’t invested in oil. No door lubricant. There was the faintest of creaks. I saw a small jerk in the back of Adam’s neck. I saw that neck start to swivel so that in a moment his head would move round and see the door and see me – and I PLUNGED! Leapt across the room, I did – super ninja able. And then BLAT! The tissue with the chloroform right over his mouth. He writhed and he struggled and he tried to look up at me but I held him firm until slowly, slowly, s l o w l y. He stopped
.

I didn’t need the bat. Then. Which was good. Because if you try to stun God, you might kill Him. And then there is no Love
.

Plus, I never meant to hurt him. That wasn’t the plan
.

I think I’ll carry on writing this later. I’m starting to come down now
.

I hope I didn’t hurt him
.

3 a.m.

Should I be writing this exactly as I recall it? A searingly honest account of one man’s journey? Or should I write to please, to entertain: a valiant adventurer obtains his prize? Who can tell which would interest and audience more, be more lauded by posterity?