A Note of Madness (26 page)

‘Oh.’ He continued to gaze at her dully, struggling to make the transition between the pills on his bed in his
darkened bedroom and the bright afternoon sunshine lighting up Jennah’s hair.

‘Were you sleeping?’

‘No.’

‘Well—’ Jennah chewed her lip, looking flushed and slightly desperate. ‘Can I come in, just for a minute? I know you really don’t want to speak to me but you don’t have to. I just wanted to explain a couple of things to you before you left for the summer.’

‘All right.’ He stepped back, defeated.

Jennah sat on the couch. Flynn perched on the edge of the armchair, elbows on knees, chewing his nails. He had offered her a cup of coffee. She had declined. Now there was nothing but silence stretching out between them. Flynn felt as if he were teetering on the edge of a pool of icy water, waiting to be pushed in.

She looked up at him with a strained smile. ‘So, what’s going on?’

He shrugged with a feeling of dread. ‘Nothing.’

‘You seem really angry at me about something.’ Jennah’s smile was artificially bright and there was a slight tremor in her voice. ‘You’ve been going out of your way to avoid me recently and I think I know why but – but I was wondering if there was any way of getting things back to how they used to be? I – I miss you, you know.’ She bit her lip hard, her eyes suddenly bright with tears.

Another long silence. Flynn stared at the tree outside the window. ‘Are you even listening to me?’

His eyes snapped back to her and he rubbed his cheek hard, aching with embarrassment. He could hardly look at her, could barely tolerate her presence and as sure as hell couldn’t talk to her. He wanted to say he was sorry, wanted to tell her it was not her fault, wanted to let her know that she was better off without him as a friend anyway, but the words remained painfully lodged in his throat.

‘What’s the matter?’ Jennah was still trying to smile but her voice had an edge to it now.

He continued to rub his cheek, looking at the floor.

‘Why won’t you talk to me? Why won’t you even
look
at me?’

‘I’m just not in the mood to talk right now.’

‘But you’re never in the mood any more! You’ve been ignoring me for the past three weeks, ever since I – I got carried away at the pub. Oh God, I know I shouldn’t have kissed you, Flynn. I know it was really embarrassing for you and – well – really embarrassing for both of us. But I didn’t – I didn’t plan it, it wasn’t deliberate, it just happened, and ever since then I’ve been trying to apologize to you but you keep avoiding me! I just want you to please, please forget about it! I know it’s stupid to pretend it never happened but I promise I’ll never do it again. I just want to go back to how things were! I
never
realized I was risking our friendship. I
never
thought you’d be so angry you wouldn’t want to talk to me!’

‘I’m not angry,’ Flynn said desperately, flushing at her words and turning away to try to avoid her furious
gaze. ‘I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now, I’m just tired.’

‘Why?’ Jennah’s voice was frantic. ‘Is it your illness?’

‘No!’

‘Then I don’t understand! Why are you acting this way? Why are you acting so weird just because I tried to kiss you? It was just a stupid heat-of-the-moment thing! Why do you have to let something so silly ruin our friendship?’

‘I don’t know, OK?’ Before he even knew it, Flynn had jumped to his feet and started to shout. ‘I can’t tell you because I don’t know! I can’t answer any of your questions! So why don’t you just leave me alone? I don’t want to speak to you. I didn’t ask you to come here, so stop going on!’

Jennah stood up too, her eyes wide and frightened. ‘I didn’t mean to make it worse, Flynn, I just wanted – I just wanted us to stay friends.’

‘Well we can’t, OK? So go! Just leave me alone!’

Jennah stared at him, her eyes flooding with tears, and left.

As he heard the front door close, he sank down onto the sofa, his heart hammering. He bit his thumb hard, struggling to get a grip, his breathing exploding in short gasps. He knew he was losing it again but was determined to fight back. He needed to calm down so that he could think. He must think so that he could work out what to do. He sat motionless on the couch for what must have been an age . . . As the screaming
tension in his muscles began to fade, it slowly dawned on him that he had done something truly, truly awful.

He looked over at the DVD player to see the time. He had been sitting there for nearly an hour, in some kind of a trance. Jennah would be home by now. He needed to call her. He needed to apologize. He needed to find some way of explaining his behaviour, of getting her to realize that he didn’t really mean it. He had hurt her. He needed to find a way of taking it all back . . . He would have to explain the bipolar to her. He would have to tell her that he had stopped taking his medication and that she was right, he was ill again. And that the reason he’d been ignoring her wasn’t because he was angry that she’d kissed him, it was because he was – he was . . . something else. He couldn’t find a word for it. Something like a fist would reach down inside his chest and take hold of his heart and squeeze and hurt and force him to feel a longing . . . a wanting so powerful and so painful that he didn’t think he could bear it. And if he let it happen, if he let the glass bubble that had surrounded him for so long shatter, he would start to feel again.

He looked up at the window, breathing hard. Maybe he should call her and ask if he could go round and talk to her and tell her what was going on. And then maybe she wouldn’t look so sad any more, and then maybe they could just hang around together like they used to and everything would be OK. He picked up the receiver. His hands started shaking as he punched in the numbers
and he found himself gripping the receiver painfully hard, feeling his racing pulse in the palm of his hand.

It went straight to answerphone. OK, so Jennah had switched off her mobile. He hung up and called her home number. Someone picked up on the fourth ring.

‘Hello?’ Sounded like Jennah’s mother.

He swallowed hard. ‘Hi. Is Jennah there, please?’

‘I’m afraid she’s out. I was expecting her back for supper half an hour ago so she should walk in any minute. Can I ask who’s calling?’

‘It’s Flynn. I–I’ll try calling back later.’

‘Oh, Flynn, didn’t she come round? She told me she was going out to see you.’

‘She did, she did come round. But then she left and I – I just forgot to tell her something.’

‘Oh! When did she leave? She assured me she would come straight home because her aunt’s coming round for dinner.’

Flynn’s mind started to race. Should he lie and cover for Jennah? Had Jennah not gone straight home because she didn’t want her mother to see she was upset? Had she gone to see a friend?

‘Flynn, are you still there?’

‘Yeah, I’m – um – I’m just’ – he rubbed his cheek furiously – ‘I’m just – um – thinking—’

‘Is everything OK? You sound a bit bothered.’

‘No, everything’s fine. She left about an hour ago. I’ll – I’ll call back later.’

He replaced the receiver and ran his hands through
his hair. OK, so Jennah hadn’t gone straight home, it was no big deal. She had probably gone to see a friend. It was fine. Jennah was often late home. Her mother didn’t sound worried. It was only nine o’clock. Maybe Jennah had forgotten about her aunt and decided to go out for the evening. Maybe she’d gone to the pub with some friends. That would be a good thing – it would mean that she’d got over their argument and decided to go out and have fun. It was fine, he would try her mobile again later, much later, when dinner with the aunt was over, when Jennah had calmed down and wasn’t so upset any more.

Flynn sat back and switched on the TV. But he couldn’t sit still, his foot kept drumming against the coffee table. He chewed his thumbnail down to the quick, made himself a cup of coffee, went to the loo, had another cup of coffee . . . Behind the window, the sky was darkening and the streetlamps were coming on. He didn’t bother to switch on the light but paced the length of the floor, the living room lit only by the flickering television screen. He stared at the phone, willing it to ring and checked the reception on his mobile over and over again. But both phones remained silent.

Would Jennah be too angry to call him? Would her mother remember to pass on the message? Would she call him to let him know Jennah had returned? Probably not. Why should she? Especially if Jennah came home saying she hated him and never wanted to see him again. Should he call back? But they would be in the
middle of dinner and maybe Jennah would have told her mother what he had said and she would be furious with him and tell him never to call again . . . But he had to talk to her. He had to explain! Maybe he should go round. No, that would be worse. He had visions of Jennah’s mother screaming at him through the letter box . . .

He drummed his fingers against the cushion, spun the remote round and round on the coffee table, got up and went over to the window, circled the room, sat back down, got up again. He watched two episodes of
Friends
and didn’t even smile. He tried to watch the ten o’clock news but nothing made sense. It was past ten already! Why hadn’t Jennah phoned?

Come on, he reasoned, she wasn’t about to phone him, he had just yelled at her to go away. Jennah’s mother was no more likely to phone either. He was going to have to call again. Perhaps he could write her a letter . . . No, this was ridiculous! All he had to do was pick up the phone! Elbows on knees, breathing hard, he fixed the innocent white handset with a desperate stare. It began to ring.

It took him a moment to react. For a second he thought that he had willed it into life. Then he sprang up.

‘Flynn?’ Jennah’s mother. She didn’t sound angry at all. He ached with relief.

‘Yes!’

‘Did you say that Jennah left you at about quarter past eight?’

Flynn’s heart started to pound. ‘Yes.’

‘And she didn’t say where she was going next?’

‘No.’

There was a pause. ‘Did she seem upset?’

Flynn felt his throat constrict. ‘We – we had a bit of an argument.’

‘Was it serious?’

‘No,’ Flynn said desperately. ‘I mean yes, maybe. She – she was upset that I’d been avoiding her recently and – and I lost my temper and kind of shouted at her.’

‘So when she left you, she was upset?’

Flynn felt his face burn. ‘Yes, she – she was crying.’

There was another long silence. Flynn was sure that the pounding in his chest must be audible.

‘Right,’ Jennah’s mother said finally. ‘Stay by the phone, would you? I’m going to have to call all her friends. She seems to have disappeared.’

‘You still up?’ Harry crashed through the front door, shaking his damp curls and tramping into the living room. ‘It’s pissing down outside – typical British summer. What have you been up to?’ He stopped in the doorway, illuminated in the light of the flickering television screen. ‘Anything good on?’

There was a silence. Harry switched on the light.

‘What’s up? Why are you looking at me like that?’

Flynn released his thumb from between his teeth. ‘Jennah’s gone missing.’

Harry shrugged. ‘Yeah, I got a call on my mobile a
couple of hours ago from Jennah’s mum. She said Jennah was late for dinner or something.’

‘You don’t get it. She came to see me at eight and never went home.’

‘So? It’s only – what – quarter to twelve? She’s probably out with some friends. Have you tried her mobile?’

‘Yes, it’s switched off. I’ve left about six messages. She promised her mum she’d go straight home. Her aunt was coming round for dinner.’

‘Oh.’ A silence. ‘Well, she must have forgotten . . .’

‘Her mum called everyone she knows. No one’s seen her.’

Harry chewed his lower lip and sat down on the arm of the couch. ‘OK . . . well . . . let’s be reasonable . . . She’s only been missing a few hours . . . It’s Saturday night, she’s probably gone clubbing—’

‘She hasn’t gone clubbing!’ Flynn startled himself as he began to shout. ‘She was upset – something might have happened to her. I’m going to look for her—’

Harry grabbed him by the arm. ‘Hold on, hold on. You have no idea where she is. Let’s figure out where she might have gone, at least.’

Flynn stopped, breathing hard. ‘All right,’ he said desperately.

‘Did she say what she was upset about?’

‘Yes – no – it was me – I shouted at her!’

Harry looked at him askance. ‘What? Why?’

‘I don’t know! I don’t know!’ Flynn jumped up from
the sofa and ran his hands through his hair as if he were about to pull it out. He walked over to the window and banged his forehead against the pane.

‘Well this is great,’ Harry said wryly, straddling the arm of the sofa and peeling off his denim jacket. ‘First you give her sleepless nights before her exams, then you chase her away when she comes over to see you!’

Flynn turned slowly from the window, one hand still clutching the frame. ‘Why would my not speaking to her for a few days make her so upset? Something else must have happened.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ Harry began to kick off his shoes, looking irritated. ‘Of course it’s because of you. You know damn well she’s crazy about you.’

Flynn felt his heart begin to pound. ‘Very funny.’

‘Jesus, Flynn!’ Harry rolled his eyes. ‘Everyone knows it! She’s been crazy about you for ages!’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about—’ Flynn began.

‘You can stop playing the fool,’ Harry snapped. ‘She told me she tried to kiss you.’

Flynn felt the blood rush to his face. ‘Ha ha, very funny, that was just a mistake—’

‘A mistake?’ Harry, standing with only one shoe, looked as if he might start to laugh. ‘Tell me, how does one
accidentally
kiss someone?’

Flynn looked at him, his cheeks burning, breathing hard. ‘Just shut up. You know that was out of pity. It was only because
you told her
!’

Harry stared at him, the whites of his eyes gleaming in the half-light. ‘Told her what? What the hell are you talking about?’