Gravitate (3 page)

“This student house is a laugh a minute, huh?” My choked voice didn’t manage the careless sarcasm I had been aiming for. “Orphans crying at the kitchen table, policemen visiting, getting your head bitten
off for delivering a message.”

“Well, the phrase ‘don’t shoot the messenger’ could have been written just for you
, but it’s not that bad here.”
I looked at his eyes, expecting to see a trace of anger there
, but saw nothing but kindness.
Not the forced, sympathetic kindness I’d seen in so many other eye
s recently, but genuine warmth.
“You don’t have to be brave ever
y minute of every day, Claudia.
You don’t have to use sarcasm and boldness to protect yourself.”

“E
very day feels like a struggle.
Since they…” I couldn’t continue speaking, as a fresh veil of tears misted up my vision.

“What were they like?”

Marty’
s question caught me off guard.
So many of the people who had been around me since the accident knew my pare
nts and were also in mourning.
They had all said how sorry they were
and how they would miss them.
I’d forgotten that Marty had never met my parents.

“Well, they
were pretty cool – for parents.
Mum was an office manager and she liked gardening and going on holi
days and having her nails done.
Dad had his own business with his friend Sam; they did something with property, investments and finance – I never really understood it, but then Dad said as I couldn’t make my pocket money last, I probably should
n’t pursue a career in finance.
Dad loved golf but was terrible at it, and he supported Spurs.” I smiled in spite of myself. “They were really happy people, Mum used to moan if I let my laundry bin overflow, and Dad had banned me from learning to drive in his car since I nearly hit the wall reversing off the driveway, but in general, we were a really happy
family.” My tears had stopped.

“The
y sound like my kind of people.
Would you like me to stay with you while you open this box?”

“I may cry again, and if my nose starts running too, things could get messy!” It felt
right to make a joke this time.
Marty reached out behind him with his muscular arms and grabbed a roll of kitchen towel.

“Problem sorted.
Cry all you w
ant, this is super absorbent!”
Marty smiled, and d
imples appeared in his cheeks.
Despite the sadness of t
he previous weeks, I chuckled.
I hadn’t heard myself giggle since the accident; I’d only managed sarcas
tic snorts of forced laughter.
It was time to finally say goodbye to my parents, forever.

My hands trembled a
s I pulled the lid off the box.
It contained Mum’s handbag, Dad’s wallet, a car key, and two wedding rings.

“May I?” Marty indicate
d to the car key and I nodded.
He picked it up
gently, examining the key fob.
It contained a photo of my parents and I, taken at a theme park several years ago – the kind they take at the most exciting part of the ride and charge a fortune for – this one had been taken on a log
flume.
I had this photo memorised, my dad and I were laughing hysterically whilst my mother was scowling, having just been soaked by the r
ide and ruining her hair style.
We’d all laughed about it afterwards, it had been a great day.

“What do I do with th
e car key?
I mean, do I keep it, even though
the car doesn’t exist anymore?
I’m not sure I can bring myself to throw it away.”

“Why don’t you put it somewhere safe, it isn’t going to take up a lot of room, and you definitely need to keep this key fob – i
t’s a great photo!
You don’t have to throw away anything that belonged to your parents, if you don’t want to.” Marty handed me the key.

“I’ll put it in the cutlery drawer with the spare key – you’re right, it won’t do any harm to keep it for a while.” I walked across to the drawer where my mother had always kept not just knives and forks, but keys, screwdrivers, spare batteries for the remote control and any
thing else that looked useful.
I had intended to put my dad’s key with the spare, but after searching through the drawer, I couldn’t find it. “The spare key isn’t in here, I wonder if Mum took it with her?  Dad had a habit of misplacing his keys and it used to really annoy her.”

“It could be in her handbag.
Do you want me to leave whilst you look?”

“Why would I want you to leave?”

“A woman’s handbag can be private territory, I wouldn’t want to invade your mum’s privacy.” Marty’s cheeks flushed as he spoke.

“Marty, you’re a medical student, you can’t possibly be embarrassed that my mum might have tampons
in her handbag!”
I started giggling again. 

“Point taken, go on then.”

I unbuckled the clasp, lifted a flap and unzipped the main compartment of the handbag.  I pulled out Mum’s purse, a mobile phone (completely out of power), lip gloss, several receipts and shopping
lists, some sweets and a comb.
There was also a zipped in
ner compartment in the handbag.
I pulled out a handful of items from this compartment and sta
rted placing them on the table.
Suddenly, it was my turn to blush with embarrassment, as condoms scattered out of my hand.

“Oh my God, Mother! How gross!” I felt mortified, sitting at the kitchen table with a man I’d only known for a few days, with a handful of my parents’ con
doms spread out in front of us.
Marty’s belly laugh almost shocked me; it was loud, yet beautiful, as it
rippled around the room.
I wanted the ground to swallow me up and hid my face with my hands.

“Claudia, don’t hide; I think it is sweet that your parents still had a
physical, loving relationship!
And your reaction is priceless!”

“Physical, loving relationship!” I burst out laughing. “Saying it that way is almost funnier than finding the condoms! I can’t believe this – and the fact that she had them in her handbag means they must have
had sex outside of the house!
It gets worse!” It felt good to laugh, even though I was thoroughly embarrassed, too.

We continued to sift through the belongings, finding nothing out of the ordinary, and certainly nothing a
s embarrassing as the condoms.
I tried on Mum’s wedding ring and discovered that it fit my ring finger on my right hand perfectly, which I de
cided was where it should stay.
Dad’s ring was too big for me, even on my thumb or my middle finger, so I stored it in my jewellery box.

Chapter 2

I’d felt tired after going through the box of my parents’ possessions, but also
lighter than I’d felt in ages.
Marty was heading off for a lecture
, so I had the house to myself.
Thinking it would be good to laugh some more, I settled down
on the sofa to watch a comedy.

The next thing I knew, a gentl
e hand was tapping my shoulder.
My eyes fluttered open and Marty’s face was in front of me, his smile broad
ening as he watched me wake up.
He was kneeling on the floor next to the sofa.

“I’m
sorry to wake you up, Claudia.
I let you sleep as long as I could.”

“What time is it?” I felt groggy; it had been mid-afternoon when I’d settled down to watch the film, and now the curtains were closed and the room was filled with the subtle glow o
f the lamp on the coffee table.
A soft blanket had been placed over
me to stop me getting cold.
I clearly had a very thoughtful lodger.

“It’s nearly eight.
I’m heading out to the pub to meet some friends, I wondered if you wanted to come with me?”

“It’s really nice of you to offer, but I don’t think I’d be very good company at the moment.” Being out in public wasn’t high on my agenda.

“You haven’t b
een out of this house in days. It’s time.”
He wasn’t forceful
, but I couldn’t say no to him. His blue eyes held my gaze. I knew he was right.
He could see me thinking it through and a smile began to crinkle at the edges of his lips. “I’ll even treat
you to a drink!” he whispered.

“You
know how to twist a girl’s arm,” I groaned, giving him a mocking grimace in return to his growing smile.
“
Give me a few minute
s to make myself presentable.”
As I tried to stand up, the blanket caught on my legs, causin
g me to trip and begin falling.
I felt Marty’s strong arms encase me as he broke my fall.

“Are you OK?” His arms remained t
ightly wrapped around my body.
I’d never been this close to him and the
physical contact made me blush.
I could breathe in his scent and feel
his heartbeat under his shirt.
My own heartbeat began speeding up.

“I’m fine, I just seem to be really clumsy today; that’s the second time you’ve sav
ed me from falling. Thank you.”
I was telling myself to move, to relieve his arms from holding on to me, but my body wasn’t obeying.

“It’s what I’m here for.”
Marty carefully placed me back on my feet and unta
ngled the blanket from my legs.
I was blushing so much that I probably resem
bled a tomato.

“
I’ll be back in five minutes.”
I raced out of the room, running all the way to my sanctuary a
nd beheld myself in the mirror.
In some ways I was quite lucky.
I’d inherited my mum’s slim figure and copper hair, and my dad’s dark brown ey
es.
I wouldn’t have said I was really beautiful, but I was fairly happy with my looks – some people seem to do nothin
g but moan about how they look.
Unfortunately, my complexion turned red easily and I also tended to burn in the sun and, true to form, I was looking po
sitively scarlet at the moment.
I quickly pulled a brush through my hair, whi
ch I decided I would wear down.
I applied a coat of mascara (waterproof, of course; tears were still a possibility in my emotional state), a slick of lip gloss and changed my t-shirt for a
slim fitting, v-neck cardigan.
The pub was about a ten minute walk away – not far enough to book a taxi, but too far to walk in heels,
so I decided on ballet pumps.
Being less than average height, I enjoyed wearing heels, but I also preferred to be comfortable over being in pain. A quick spr
itz of perfume and I was ready.
I grabbed my handbag, checked I had money, identification and keys, and hurried
back down the stairs to Marty.
He was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, no doubt ready to catch me if I fell again.

We walked briskly, as the night w
as getting a chill in the air.
Leaves rustled beneath our feet and t
he stars shone above our heads.
I asked Marty about his friends that we were meeting, and I started to feel nervous about being out
in a crowd.
I used to love going out with my friends,
but life was so different now.
The carefree, outgoing girl had been replaced
by a lost and fearful recluse.

“Don’t be anxious, Claudia.” Marty must have felt the shift in my feelings from excitement to nervousness.

“This feels like a huge step for me.”

“You’ll be surrounded by frie
nds – me, Russ, Belinda, James. They’ll really like you.
Oh, and Ben – can’t forget him – he’ll love you.”

“You have a lot of fai
th in both your friends and me.
Do they know about my parents?” I didn’t want to be the poor, pitied orphan, but I also didn’t want people to misinterpret any quietness on my part.

“I told them
before I came to live with you. I hope you don’t mind.
I thought you’d prefer not to have to tell everybody, and that way they’ll know why yo
u might be a little bit quiet.”
Again, it was like Marty had rea
d the thoughts inside my head.

We’d arrived at the pub.
The sound of music and chatter floated out into the street and a huddle of people smoking p
inpointed the entrance.
I took a deep and slightly smoky breath, as I prepared to leave my social coma.