So Much to Learn (32 page)

"I'm not
feeling well," she said in a high-pitched voice, "so I think I'll
go home. Thanks for inviting me up, Matt."

My brother was
involved in a detailed conversation with Tommo over whether Sam and
Michael's obvious crack-up was going to affect the game on Saturday
and so simply waved to acknowledge her thanks. Jack, however, was
looking between Haley and me and, when Haley skedaddled out of the
flat without so much as saying goodbye, he looked at me and
frowned.

Oh come on! I
thought angrily, I didn't say anything rude to her, I was just
wanting to see whether she was going to clarify her statement at
all. I honestly hadn't intended to scare her off, I can't help that
she's as weak and water when it comes to me. I couldn't say all
that to Jack with Matt and Tom in the room, however, so I satisfied
myself with shooting him a dirty look and starting to pull apart
one of the tassels on the cushion I was holding.

"Well," Matt
said, stopping talking to Tommo and looking round at Jack and I as
we all heard Haley's door close downstairs, "that was fun. Anybody
got any ideas what that was all about?"

We all shook
our heads and when Matt looked at me sceptically I shook my head
even harder.

"Honestly, I
haven't even seen Micky over the last couple of weeks, let alone
done something to make him wish me dead," I said honestly. "And
maybe Haley really was feeling ill." OK so that last bit wasn't
quite so honest but there was really nothing else I could say.

Oh God, I
thought, it's starting already. The lying and the having to build a
bigger web of lies to contain the initial lies. My head buzzed with
all the uncomfortable strangeness of the evening which had started
out so well and I just wanted to escape. "I'm not really in the
mood to hang out." I said abruptly, standing up again. "I think
I'll just go to bed."

"You alright?"
Jack asked, his expression worried but I smiled and nodded.

"Yeah fine,
just tired. Night guys."

And I crossed
over to my room and shut the door firmly behind me. I knew that
sometime soon I would have to do some serious thinking but, for
now, I just wanted to ignore it and go to sleep.

I was
determined not to think.

Yes, I put a
total embargo on all brain activity because to think was to come to
some realisations and to come to those realisations was something
that I knew I did not want to do. By the end of a long Thursday
night spent tossing and turning I was wishing that I didn't have a
brain at all…or at least a conscience within it.

Still, when my
brain caught me weakening my resolve not to think (meaning just as
I was about to drift off to sleep) it would send one short, urgent
message: Haley knows!

I was so
unbelievably screwed and I couldn't for the life of me figure a way
out of the mess I was in. What with whatever it was that was going
on with Simone, Micky and Sam it felt as if all control of the
situation had completely left my hands. And so I baulked at taking
any drastic action and determined to wait until I could talk the
Haley situation out with Jack. Maybe he could talk to her…or maybe
he knew a good hit man.

It seemed even
the weather was feeling angsty on the Friday. Obviously drawing
inspiration from the stress radiating amongst my friends it was
extremely wet and windy, verging on cyclone material.

I had one of
those crappy days which seem to stretch on forever because it has
been divided into so many different chores. I had started the day
with a double lecture which was so boring I almost slid into a
catatonic state and when poor Adam tried in vain to get a laugh out
of me he ended up being asked by the lecturer to shut up or
leave.

I dropped my
car off at Tommo's place as planned so he could look for the cause
of the rattling noise and then proceeded to do all my little jobs
(grocery shopping, etc) on foot in the pouring rain. Staggering
home with my shopping I realised that, at the rate I was going, I
wasn't going to make it to work on time. I didn't even have time
for a shower so I just pulled on dry clothes, gave my hair a quick
blow dry and ran for the bus which, of course, pulled away from the
stop as soon as I approached it. So then I had to wait for the
second bus and was, in fact, late. After being told off by my boss
I set to work piling books which, by the time the end of my shift
rolled around, had my arms aching.

As I stepped
outside I found that the lashing rain and whipping wind had
increased rather than decreased in ferocity and I was drenched
through in about two seconds. Naturally I had to wait over half an
hour for the bus home, still getting soaked by the rain as the bus
shelter could do little against horizontal droplets. And, when the
bus finally did arrive, it was so full I had to wedge myself
against two high school boys who spent the entire trip leering at
my breasts which were showing through quite clearly as the rain
made it look like I had entered into a wet T-shirt competition.

It had been a
quite momentously hideous day and the final straw occurred when, as
I was making my painful way up the stairwell to my flat, the
fluorescent lights above me flickered and then died, leaving me in
complete and utter darkness.

"Oh for God’s
sake!" I shrieked in frustration. "You can't be serious!"

Not many people
know this about me, but I'm not overly fond of the dark. I don't
mean I need a night light or anything, in fact when I'm trying to
sleep the darker the better, but when I'm still walking around
doing stuff it freaks me out a little. I always imagine someone is
there in the dark about to pounce. Stupid I know, but I can't help
my overactive imagination, in fact the more I try to make my brain
think about something else the more it invents scary things hidden
in the dark. My brain is so disobedient!

It is one of my
theories that people with no imagination can't be scared of the
dark. I mean if you can't create some scary serial killer with a
whole back story and the deep rooted psychological reasons for his
disturbed behaviour what is there really to be scared of?

Anyway, serial
killers aside, the dark presented a very real danger for me at that
moment as I had to make my way up the stairs in complete darkness.
Not even a smidgeon of light made its way into the stairwell so I
gripped the handrail and slowly, painstakingly slowly, began
creeping up the stairs, placing both feet securely on a stair
before moving on.

I congratulated
myself when I reached the landing safely and then began the next
difficult task of the day which was trying to find the keyhole.
After gouging holes in the wood with my key everywhere, it seemed,
but the actual lock part I finally struck gold and opened the door,
letting myself into the flat.

I’d had some
vague notion in my mind that the flat wouldn't be as dark as the
stairwell, as if it would be a very localised power cut, but I was
proved wrong immediately I stepped in the door. With rain clouds
covering the moon and stars, the streetlamps out and not even the
flicker of the microwaves display screen to light my way it was
going to be a very dark evening. And cold, I soon realised, because
the heating was off too.

"Alright," I
said quietly to myself, my eyes still straining futilely in the
dark to pick up any outline at all, "there is absolutely nothing to
be scared of in the dark."

Taking off my
sodden shoes and socks so I wouldn't walk mud and all sorts into
the carpet, I began to creep slowly forward, my arms outstretched,
feeling like I was playing blind man’s bluff but all the more
freaked out because I wasn't blindfolded. This strategy seemed to
work and I estimated I'd shuffled about half way across the room
when suddenly I felt an extreme pain in my toe and realised I'd
stubbed it hard against a chair leg.

Letting out a
little howl of pain I grabbed at the source of the pain and hopped
ungracefully on the spot as I tried to rub away the sting.

"Yeah," I said
through gritted teeth, "there's nothing to be scared of in the dark
except for the f-ing furniture!"

"Tally?"

That had been
Jack's voice, he was here? I immediately stopped hopping and
grumbling and looked towards where the voice had come from,
expecting to see Jack standing in the doorway to his room.

"I didn't
realise you'd be home," I said in surprise, feeling a weird swoop
in my belly as it lifted at the knowledge that Jack was near and
then sank again as I remembered the conversation I had to have with
him about Haley.

"The front
window at work was smashed by a branch so we knocked off early,"
Jack replied, "Matt and I went to the bar for a bit then I thought
I'd come home and get some more study in," there was a pause and
then he chuckled, "but I guess that idea's defunct now."

So Jack was
home and Matt wasn't. Great, now I couldn't even use the presence
of my brother as an excuse to put off having 'the talk' with Jack.
I sighed quietly in the darkness wishing that I could rewind the
clock and go back to the Thursday afternoon when things had seemed
so good.

I heard Jack
begin to move and then his footsteps stopped and he said, with
another rueful laugh, "Where do I think I'm going? I don't know
where you are. Marco!"

I forced a
laugh too and replied, "Polo."

His footsteps
started up again, moving slowly and cautiously towards me. "Marco?"
He said again and then there was a loud crash, "Oh damn, that
hurt!" He exclaimed.

"Polo. Are you
alright?" I asked, unable to stop a genuine smile lifting my lips
then. Maybe the dark wasn't so bad after all, perhaps instead it
was an opportunity for me to duck out of my responsibility to be
serious like I had so many times in the past. After all, I couldn't
have a serious conversation with Jack stumbling about performing,
by the sounds of it, various slapstick routines, could I?

"I'll live,"
Jack grumbled. "But don't think the dark hides the fact that you
smiled when I walked into the wardrobe. Marco."

"Oh, is that
what you walked into?" I asked cheekily, "Great, now I have a
proper visual, thanks. Polo."

Eventually,
after much more 'Marco' and 'Polo'-ing, Jack found me and, without
even thinking (which seemed to be my usual approach recently), I
threw my arms around him and gave him a great bit hug. Jack seemed
surprised by my behaviour, but didn't comment on my sudden need to
crush his ribs, simply resting his head atop mine and gently
stroking my back.

During this
moment every instinct inside of me screamed that what I was doing
was crazy. Surely I had seen enough films to know that sods law
would dictate that the lights would come back on just as Matt
walked in the door and he would see Jack and I as we were? Haley
already knew, why was I risking further discovery? But I pushed
this feeling aside because, honestly, what are instincts anyway?
Just pieces of the psyche that weren't deemed important enough to
be proper cognitive thought, that's what!

"You're soaked
through," Jack murmured into my wet hair after a little while and,
as I pulled away from the hug, I realised he was right. I bet I had
even made wet patches on his clothes, but I hadn't thought and he
didn't complain.

Of course, as
soon as Jack had pointed out that I was practically dripping, I got
a bad case of the shivers and wrapped my arms around myself against
the cold. The next moment I felt rather than saw Jack move away
over in the direction of the kitchen and heard him say, "I'm going
to have a quick look round for a torch or some candles, you should
get dry and change."

I nodded that I
thought it was a good idea but then realised he couldn't see me and
said aloud, "Right you are boss," trying to sound jolly and upbeat
but failing miserably.

I carefully
made my way over to the bathroom and then, with the towel that I
collected there, I inched across the room again and to my bedroom.
Once inside I peeled off my sodden clothes and rubbed the towel
across my damp, goosebump-ly skin before wrapping my wet hair up
into a towel turban and hurriedly getting dressed into my fluffy
pjs.

For the
briefest of moments, I wondered whether I should close the door and
climb into bed, delaying my talk with Jack about Haley until
another day, but then I gave myself a mental slap and squared my
shoulders. It had to be done and the longer I delayed, the more
trouble Jack and I could end up in.

I could hear
Jack fumbling about in the drawers out in the kitchen and didn't
envy him the job of sticking his hands blindly into our messy
cupboards and drawers. He might need a tetanus shot by the time he
was done.

Suddenly
remembering something, I dropped to my knees and began searching
underneath the bed for a box I had thrown down there in March.
Finally finding the small white, cardboard box I opened it up and
grabbed the hideous novelty candle which was nestled within. Going
out into the main room I realised that Jack had continued his
search for a light source in his room and I felt my way across to
his door and knocked gently on it.

"Hey, did you
find any matches on your search?" I asked moving gingerly inside
his room and hoping I didn't fall over anything, I wouldn't have
got two paces in Matt's room before tripping over something but
Jack's floor was, thankfully, less messy.

To answer my
question there was the scratch of a match being lit and the next
second Jack's face was illuminated by a little flame. Moving
forward I tipped the candle's wick towards the lit match and smiled
as it caught and a little of the darkness ebbed away.

Jack blew out
the match and, for a moment, we looked at each other across the
flame on the candle. His normally light eyes looked a navy blue in
the shadowy room and I could see myself reflected in his pupils
which were dilated against the dark.