Beautiful Freaks (35 page)

With
in minutes of sitting down, hot-
chocolate warming my frozen hands, the bell above the shop door went. Bent over
,
and fleeing the miserable weather outside, Blake entered.
“Damn it!”
I muttered. Clearly he too had decided to skip
the afternoon lesson with Mr Dwell.

He stopped at the door, wiped his feet and shook out the snow-rain from his dark curls before pulling himself up to his full
six foot
height. With one hand he undid his coat and the other he loosened his
scarf which
looked bizarrely more like the remains of an old flag then the more usual woollen number.

Unlike me, he was dressed for the cold weather, wearing a simple but obviously expensive pair of jeans and a thick black jumper beneath his thigh length woollen coat. His clothes gave the impression of subtle wealth and, although simple in their design, it was obvious they were of serious quality. Sleet hung to the fine, soft wool of his navy coat almost like someone had threaded small diamonds into the weave. Even at this time of the year he had a slight tan, the kind of tan that is burnt in by wind and activity. He flashed a smile in response to something the pretty sales assistant said and made his way towards the literature section.

He didn’t spend long
looking,
seeming to find whatever it was instinctively. His hands moved deftly along the spines and I caught myself thinking
about
how his hands would feel running themselves over my thighs. The delicious thought of this made me blush and the sudden rush of blood to my cold cheeks caused a strange prickling of my skin.

I watched him pull out several versions of the same text; Tennyson’s collected works, and then settled upon the one with the image of Waterhouse’s Lady of Shalott on its cover. His finger traced the outline of her face and he offered a wry smile, as if smiling at some private joke. He suddenly went rigid, aware that this private moment was being watched. I tried to look casual, despite my pounding heart, my blushing cheeks and quickening breath; as if somehow, I hadn’t noticed him and his being here and this sudden recognition was as much of a surprise to me as it was to him.

“Hello, it’s Mina, isn’t it?” he spoke softly, a slight lilt in his voice.

“Yes, hi!” I cringed inside as my voice came out in a strange, almost strangulated squeak.

“Are you alright? You’re shaking.”

I blushed as I imagined the state I looked, red and blotchy from the cold.

“I forgot my coat,” I said as my heart hammered in my chest.

Instantly, without a moment’s hesitation he started to slide out of his coat.
“Here, b
orrow mine. I’ve got the car outside.”

I was about to protest but before I could he’d already deposited the coat on my lap. It weighed a tonne. The lining was as red as blood.

“I can’t borrow your coat
, you barely know me,
”
I said.

“Don’t be ridiculous; y
ou can give it back to me in class tomorrow.”

“Talking of which, why aren’t you there now?” I asked.

“Well I could ask you the same question.” He smiled. “I guess we’ve caught each other out.”

“I guess so.” I found myself blushing like an idiot with a smile that almost hurt.

“Well, I’d better get going,” he said tapping the book. “I’ve got a lot to catch up on by the looks of it. Nice to meet you again Mina Singer; I look forward to seeing my coat in lesson tomorrow.”

With that, he headed towards the counter to pay. In his place lingered the smell of wild
-
flower meadows and the warm smell of sun kissed barley fields.

“Sorry to disturb you again,
” Blake’s voice startled me, causing me to spill some of my hot
-
chocolate, narrowly missing the expensive wool of his coat, “- it’s started to snow
quite heavily
. Would you like me to drive you home?”

I flushed hot and wondered if he could see me blushing.

“No really, No it’s fine. I’ve…I’ve…” I stammered, trying to think of a reason that might sound slightly believable. I changed track and overly enthusiastically blurted out, “It’s snowing. That’s great! I LOVE snow!
All that…white flaky stuff.
Brilliant!”

He rais
ed an amused eyebrow and smiled.
“As you wish, My Lady. S
ee you tomorrow.”

As he left I could hear him amusedly muttering to himself, “
White flaky stuff. Brilliant!”

I sat there no longer cold. The fire of total humiliation had warmed me up a treat.

3. HYACINTHS

I arrived home just after the dark had settled in for the night. Mum had switched on the
fairy-lights
in the trees, giving the narrow garden an otherworldly feel
. U
nlike the usual feeling of magic, tonight it exaggerated the concern I had about my rapidly sliding sanity. The snow had given the garden the look of a wild and dangerous wood and I found myself huddling down the garden path as if to avoid the wicked witch. It was only when I heard the deadlock of the red front door click behind me that I took the chance to stop and breathe.

Home, as always, was warmly lit. Dusty, our ancient and cantankerous cat came into the small hallway, swirling his way around my ankles and purring a welcome that was really a poorly disguised demand for supper. I slipped out of Blake’s coat and folded it up into as small a ball as it would go, trying to force the bright red lining out of sight. All the way home the coat had almost sent me half demented with the warm spiced smell of his body and I was strangely grateful that the house was filled with the rich smell of roast chicken in the hope that I could now be free of it.

Mum was sat huddled between her desk and the wood burning stove and S
am was sat at the dining table with
several science textbooks sprawled out. He had his headphones in and hadn’t noticed me come in. Standing outside of the half open door and looking in at the peace and warmth of the room, I felt a sudden wave of
guilt which
felt like a distressing blend of love and claustrophobia all rolled into one.

Mum stretched, removed her glasses and stood up before making her way to the kitchen. As she passed Sam, she placed a hand on his shoulder. It was the action of a mother who loved her son dearly.
One big happy family!
Something about it all suddenly freaked me and
I took a step back knocking over Martha’s umbrella, sending it skittering to the floor in a noisy commotion.

“Mina, is that you? Run up and wash your hands. I’m about to serve supper and don’t forget to feed Dusty before we eat.”

As if my guilt couldn’t get any worse, I pushed my bedroom door open to find a small bunch of hyacinths lying on top of my pillow.
A small card had been slotted into the top of them on which Sam had written in his spider like handwriting
,
the simple
yet most important of all words
,
I love you
!
I lifted the flowers
to my nose and breathed
in their pretty sweetness
. I
mmediately the events at the bookshop
flooded
back to me.

Sam was not usually so showy in his feelings. He wasn’t given to corny clichés and often took the piss out of the sort of grand gestures Matt made to Sara on an almost daily basis. However, the simplicity of the flowers and the inscription showed that Sam was aware that something was wrong and he cared about it enough to put it right. I knew he deserved to be loved and not hurt and I promised myself to put things right. But even as I made the promise, I knew it wasn’t one that I’d be able to keep. Something had changed and it wasn’t going to change back.

I pulled on my deep emerald
jumper which
was Sam’s favourite and looped my string of green glass beads around my neck. Sam had bought them for me on my last birthday. He said they matched the colour of my eyes and I loved them, yet tonight when I looked at myself in the mirror they reminded me of a beautiful noose.

*

Dinner was already on the table by the time I arrived downstairs and Sam was lighting the candle with a firelighter lit from the wood burner. With his spare hand he
went to
reach out and take mine but stopped as if thinking better of it. Instead he cracked an awkward smile before
saying
,

“Hello stranger. I’d started to think about sending out a search party.” His voice was trying to put on a comic edge but it was tense. I smiled and shrugged, unable to give him either an unhurtful or rational explanation as to where I’d been
. H
e deserved better than a lie. “Thought maybe you had been kidnapped by aliens or that you’d finally made good your promise to run away with the circus.”

I could barely meet his eyes, thinking that there was nothing more genuinely painful then when somebody you loved tried to hide their hurt and confusion with a joke.

I hoped a
half truth
would satisfy him, “I went to the bookshop.” He nodded. I panicked, “Thank you for the flowers Sam, they’re really lovely. Look I…” but before I could finish, Mum busied into the room carrying the gravy and interrupting my apology.

Dinner was chatty, a result maybe of all of us trying to hide the weird atmosphere. Mum fired questions at Sam and me in quick succession and Sam, seemingly satisfied that things were hopefully on their way back to normal, was happy to indulge her.

By nine o’clock, Mum had already gone up to bed, book in one hand and a cup of hot chocolate in the other and Sam was snuggled up on the sofa under the throw flicking through the T.V channels. I snuggled in beside him, feeling the warm certainty of his body. Out of habit my hand traced the muscles of his forearm causing him to turn towards me. He smiled and leant over, kissing my cheek before putting his arm around me and pulling me in. His lips found mine with the ease of familiarity. Sam was a good kisser, firm and soft all at once. Being together for almost two years, he’d perfected his skills and when he kissed me it was easy to believe that the world was a silent place and that we were the only two people in it.

This evening was no different and as he kissed me I could feel all the doubt and uncertainty heal over with a warm acceptance and love. I felt the warm contact of skin on skin as his hand moved under my clothing, his kiss becoming more urgent as we headed towards a place I wasn’t ready for. I pulled away but Sam moved himself so that I was pinned to the sofa with nowhere to go. Panic hit me as his kisses became increasingly aggressive. All at once
everything
was wrong.  I pulled my face away as best I could, putting my hands out in defence.

“What the hell are you doing?” I shout-whispered.

He looked at me, almost as shocked as me and pulled himself away to the far end of the sofa.

“I’m so sorry Mina – that was really out of order. I don’t know what came over me.”

I stood up and looked at him, crumpled at the edge of the sofa, his eyes filmed with water as he fought back tears.

“What the hell was that all about Sam?” I said pulling down the bottom of my top.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – shit I’ve really messed this up. I just wanted to check that everything was okay.”

“What? You thought that the best way to check was by forcing the situation?”

“I didn’t mean to…force…
.God
Mina, don’t use that word it’s not as if I was going to ….as if I was going to do that to you. I love you. I just thought maybe you wanted me to…Shit, I don’t know what I thought!”

The situation was spiralling quickly out of control and I knew that whatever Sam had been thinking, it wasn’t that he’d meant to hurt me. The whole day had been weird and it was no real surprise we’d ended up here.

“It was a mistake Sam; I’m not happy about it but I know you wouldn’t hurt me. I’m going to bed. We need to sleep on this and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.” I pressed a tight smile, “Night Sam.”

As I went through the door I heard Sam whisper, “I’m sorry. I love you.”

From upstairs in my room, I could hear the sound of the television travelling through the white painted floorboards and in order to drown out the ghost, I stuck in the earphones of my iPod and turned the volume up to the borderline of pain. The deep rhythmic drums of
Florence and the Machine
drowned out Sam’s presence but didn’t make me feel any better, for as I lay there, I realised with startling clarity, that falling out of love with someone was like pulling a plaster 
–  shockingly
painful but surprisingly quick.

The deep, rich scent of the hyacinth blooms filled my room and it was so overpowering that it made it almost painful to breathe. Opening my window to let in the cold air seemed to have little effect and seeing no alternative, I took hold of them roughly by their slender green necks and threw them out into the night sky where they fell into the garden below and scattered across the navy green grass like grounded stars.