Swimming Upstream (17 page)

We drove round Regents Park to Sainsbury's in Camden. It
was a crisp cold morning, and the tree-lined pathways along the outer circle
were strewn with fallen leaves.

“I suppose it’s a good job I‘ve got some decent head
shots,” said Catherine. “That’s one thing. I’m not going to look so great now
with a false front tooth. When I smile, it’s going to show. Oh God. What am I
going to look like?” She pulled down the passenger sun visor and flicked open
the mirror.

“It won’t notice,” I said. “Not when you’re on
stage.”

“At auditions it will. Men will notice,” she said.
“It will age me.”

“You could get any bloke you want,” I said. “Teeth
or no teeth.”

Catherine laughed out loud.

“I’m serious,” I said. “You’re lovely. A false
tooth is not going to change that.”

“You know I used to fancy your brother.”

“Pete? Really?”

“Are you kidding? He was gorgeous. All the girls
in our year did.”

I laughed. “I didn’t know that.”

“So, do you hear from him. Ever?”

I paused, and looked across at her. All the years
with Larsen and I’d never really talked about Pete. Or my dad, come to that. Not
to Larsen, not to Marion, Doug, Karen… any of them. Because he was gone and I
didn’t want to remember, not then. But now it was all creeping back, everything.
And Catherine was back too, a timely witness to the truth of what had happened.
She remembered me in the days before I had had a chance to shut it all out. I
was grateful that I didn’t have to explain things, to start from the beginning.

“Occasionally. But not often. Not since he left
home, the year after he left school. Maybe that’s why I let you go too. I was
trying to forget my past, put it all behind me. But I don’t think it works like
that.”

“I wondered why you never called. I thought it was
because of your new boyfriend, David whatshisname, that you had just got really
involved with him and that you just didn’t need me as a friend anymore.”

“I think it was that too, I’m ashamed to say. David
was like a… a transitional object. A teddy bear.”

“He looked a bit like a teddy bear,” agreed
Catherine.

I smiled. “He came along at the right time in my
life. He allowed me to move away, like Pete did, without being too scared. He
gave me strength, strength enough to leave him too, in the end, and to go away to
university - and that was what I really wanted to do. Study, learn French. And
then go abroad. Travel. Only, my first year at college....well, I didn’t expect
to feel so lonely. But then along came Larsen. He helped keep it all at bay. But
I knew something was missing. It was like a part of myself had been buried. Along
with my dad.”

“Your dad was horrible to you,” Catherine said.

“I meant my real dad,” I said. “Not him.”

Catherine nodded. “Of course.”

“Although he was supposed to be a dad too. To me
and Pete. That was the deal. But he only ever really wanted my mother. And so
he tore my family apart. Destroyed me and Pete. Or tried to.”

Catherine placed her hand over mine. I changed
gear, with her still holding on, and we both smiled.

After a couple of minutes Catherine spoke. “I know
what you’re thinking. Martin’s not like him, you know.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he loves me. Whatever he’s done, I know
that’s true because I feel it. Felt it,” she corrected herself. “Your dad just
enjoyed hurting you. He did it for pleasure. That’s different. And I’m sorry.”

I turned off Albany Street and stopped at the
traffic lights. As I looked ahead down Parkway I noticed a kid with a guy
propped up in a cart and realised that it was the last day of October,
Halloween.

“I still have bad dreams,” I confessed. “Nightmares.
Really frightening ones. About ghosts. I know they’re to do with what’s
happened. The bits that I can’t remember. The bits that I’ve blocked out. It’s
like I know that intellectually. But I can’t seem to make the connection
emotionally. It feels like the nightmares won’t go away until I do.”

“Maybe that’s what people go to counselling for.”

“Maybe. Maybe that’s what I need to do. But then I
think to myself, maybe it wasn’t that bad. Sometimes, I don’t know what’s real
and what isn’t,” I admitted.

“Everything’s real,” said Catherine. “If it’s real
to you. Your nightmares, the way you feel now, all these years later. They’re
proof that it
was
that bad.”

I looked up at her gratefully and nodded. “I guess
that must be true.”

I turned into the supermarket car park. We got out
and Catherine pulled on her black furry coat and her sunglasses.

“You know fate is guiding you,” Catherine
reassured me, as we entered the store. She grabbed a trolley and I followed her
to the fruit section. “It’s all happened the way it was meant to. Everything.
There’s a reason why you’re only remembering things now. And there is a reason
why I am here right now.”

“So you’re saying everything’s pre-destined,
written in the stars?” I asked her.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. We’re all on
one long spiritual journey. Maybe this is my fate… being with Martin, I mean.
The Universe is trying to teach me something about how to deal with it.”

“Deal with it?” I frowned. “You’re not going back
to him?”

“No,” said Catherine, uncertainly. She picked up a
pack of bananas. “Of course not.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “I’m sorry,
Catherine, I just don’t believe that you can see anything positive in what
Martin’s done to you. I think you make your own fate.”

Catherine shrugged. “Maybe.”

“What do you mean? Are you trying to tell me that
this was all meant to be? You getting your face smashed in?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Catherine moved
off with the trolley ahead of me and I worried that she was hurt by what I’d
said.

I ran and caught her up. Neither of us spoke for a
minute as we turned a corner and entered the canned goods aisle. Then Catherine
stopped the trolley and put her arms around me. “I love you Lizzie,” she said. “I
am so glad you came back into my life again.”

“Ditto,” I said. I buried my face in her shoulder.
“I really need a friend like you, right now.”

“Me too.”

 “And I’m so sorry if I sounded harsh. It’s just
because I care.”

“Don’t ever stop speaking the truth. It’s what’s
so great about you. You always tell the truth about things. I know you’re on my
side. And that’s what matters. And I’ll always be on your side, too, Lizzie. Even
when you’re wrong.”

“I’m never wrong,” I smiled. “I thought you knew
that by now. So,” I said. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not going back,” she said. “You don’t have to
worry about that. I’ll get a job, or maybe even study. And you?”

“I think I need a new job. And maybe a bit of
therapy,” I smiled.

“We can help each other,” Catherine said.

“Sure we can.”

“Deal?”

“Deal. So, who’s cooking tonight?” I asked her. “Or
will the Universe provide?”

“Sceptic!” said Catherine pushing the trolley at
me.

“Hippy!” I laughed over my shoulder, as I sped off
down the aisle with Catherine and the trolley in hot pursuit behind me.

The wind whipped at my scarf and I hugged my anorak
tightly round my shoulders as I skipped through Smithfield past the blue
wrought iron gates to the meat market and out into the square. The sky seemed
very bright. It looked as if it was going to snow. When I reached the King's
Arms and pushed open the door, Catherine and Zara were already there, sitting
up at the bar.

Zara swung round. She was wearing her tea cosy hat.
“Well?” she said, expectantly.

I grinned, and raised my eyebrows.

“You got it!” Zara jumped off her stool and picked
me up, wrapping her arms round my waist and lifting me off the ground.

“When do you start?” asked Catherine.

“End of January. I'll have to work out my notice.”
I sat down next to her. The barman wandered over and I ordered three tequilas. I
handed out the shots and the lime.

“That's so great,” said Catherine, licking salt
off her wrist and grimacing as we slammed. I couldn’t help noticing her new
false tooth every time I looked at her, and it made me feel like hugging her
every time.

The door opened and Tim came in with Shelley, one
of the nurses who lived with Zara and Tim.

“What are we celebrating?” he asked.

“Lizzie's new job, at City FM. Come on,” said
Zara. “Sit down.”

I ordered another five tequilas.

“I'll get these. Congratulations,” said Tim,
kissing me on the cheek. “So what is it?”

“I am a planner-stroke-researcher, working across
two programmes again, but it’ll be prime-time - Breakfast and Mid-morning and
it’s, well, “It’s City FM,”” I said, mimicking the catchphrase, in my best
Broadcasting voice. Tim and Zara both sang the City FM jingle. I laughed. “So,
I’ll be doing a bit of everything, writing material for scripts, bulletins and
links, interviewing, some reporting but also presenting and production. It’s an
amazing opportunity.”

Tim put his arm round me and raised his glass. “Three
cheers for Lizzie. Down the hatch,” he said in a BBC voice. We all tipped our
heads back and cheered when we'd finished.

“And guess what?” said Catherine. “I've found a really
experienced drama tutor in Highbury and she's going to give me some coaching
and help with auditions in exchange for helping her out at home.”

“Another drink,” said Tim, waving at the barman. Five
more tequilas appeared on the bar beside us. “To Lizzie and Catherine,” said
Shelley. We all slammed in unison.

The tequila worked its way up into my face. I felt
warm and a little breathless, and glowing inside; I felt happy. After a while I
extracted myself from the mass of arms and beer glasses and stools and went to
the toilets. A log fire was crackling and popping in the inglenook fireplace
and Christmas decorations adorned the walls and the top of the bar. Thick
sparkling snakes of silver and green tinsel were wound around the china plates
and horseshoes, and huge puffy scarlet crepe paper bells and smaller golden
globes were hanging from the ceiling, interlaced with shiny cut-out paper-chains.
And by the bar were my friends. I hung back for a moment in the doorway to take
a mental snapshot, something I could bring out again to remind me, when I was
down, that I was not alone, after all.  

Zara followed me into the toilets and jumped up
onto the ledge by the sink.

“I’ve finished with Joel,” she said. “It’s over. For
good this time.”

“Joel?” I said. “You mean that’s still on? I
thought you were seeing James?”

“Yeah. James. Good idea,” said Zara. “I should
stick with him.”

“I’m confused.”

“Well, Joel came back. Sort of. After I started
seeing James. And I really like him, you know.”

“Who?”

“Joel. But there's no point,” she said. “He
doesn't want me.” Her eyes started welling up and she rubbed at them with her
fists.

“Oh Zara, what's happened?” I asked her.

She sighed. “I went round to his place last
Friday. He wouldn't even let me over the doorstep. Just said ‘Not now, Zara,’
and waved his hand like I was some kind of annoying fly buzzing round his head
that he couldn't get rid of. Said he was entertaining.”

“Well, maybe he was,” I said. “Maybe it was work
people. You're supposed to be a secret, after all.”

Zara looked me straight in the eye. “Lizzie, he
was wearing a walkman.”

“A walkman?” I said.

“He had a walkman on, and earphones round his
neck.” She shrugged. “He didn't have anyone there. He's just decided it's all
too easy again. He just gets off on me liking him. He's having an ego trip at
my expense. Every time I walk away and get on with my life he tries to pull me
back, again.”

“That's not very nice,” I said.

“No, it's not,” she agreed. “Anyway, I don't care.
Really. It won't work. Not any more.”

I could see how hard she was trying to convince
herself

“Never mind,” I said, and hugged her. “Maybe you
should swear off men for a while.”

Zara looked at me as
though I were mad. “You’ve got to be joking,” she said. “I need to call James. That’s
what I need to do.”

Later, back at the house, we decided to have a meal
together on Christmas Eve before we all went off to our parents' the following
morning.

“I've had it with standing around in overcrowded
pubs, waiting half an hour to get served and getting chatted up by dodgy guys,”
said Shelley.

“Yeah,” Zara agreed. “Been there, seen it, done
that.”

“Come on Zara,” said Tim. “You like dodgy guys.”

Zara thumped him on the arm.

We arranged to invite Uncle Silbert. “He's never
going to agree,” said Tim. “How will we get him here?”

“In Lizzie’s car,” said Zara.

“I think we should borrow a wheelchair,” said Tim.

“Unless we have it at his place,” Shelley said.

“There's nothing there,” I said. “We'd have to
take a table and chairs.”

“And I don't even know if the cooker works
properly,” said Zara.

The front door opened and Clare, Tim’s girlfriend,
came in. “What's all this?” she said, looking at me.

“We're organising Christmas Eve,” I said. “Round
here.”

She shrugged. “I won't be here.” She went off
upstairs. Tim jumped up and ran after her.

“I need to go home,” I said. “I've got to go to
work tomorrow. And there’s a resignation letter I need to write.”

I shook Catherine, who was asleep on the settee. She
waved her arm and rolled onto her stomach.

“Let her stay there,” said Shelley. “I'll wake her
in the morning.” She kissed me and went upstairs.

“It's been a great day,” I said to Zara. I put my
arms around her.