Tales of Sin & Fury, Part 1 (25 page)

‘Do you want to tell me about it?'

Anthea sat up alert again. ‘I should, shouldn't I? Now I think about it, that was one of the first weird experiences. That made me wonder whether things were going on under the surface. It was in 1971. When I was trying to get over Tel.'

‘Nearly twenty years ago. Tel?'

‘He was my first boyfriend. My first love. My first hope, and in a way my last hope. Things went wrong with him, and things have never gone right for me since.'

Anthea looked out of the window as if she might find some sign of hope outside. She looked down at her feet as if they might provide some answers. She looked at the purple candle burning on the table between them. She looked up at Ren, but avoided her eyes.

‘I'd better start at the beginning, hadn't I?'

Ren sat silent, waiting.

‘OK. Like I said, I'd left school at 18 with A-Levels, but my family didn't think in terms of university. So I got what my Mum thought was a “good job.” At that time there weren't loads of banks in Maidstone like there are now.'

‘Soon after I joined the bank, a young man started there called Terry, known as Tel. He was a bit younger than me but very nice. Brown curly hair, fresh-faced, skinny. He was the only one in the bank who said “Good Morning” as if he really wanted you to have a good morning. I was shy so it took a while to get to know him. Anyway, I thought he had a girlfriend.

‘But then there was a retirement party. The manager was leaving. They held the do in the offices out the back. The usual cheap wine, but we didn't know the difference. I was standing by the table when they were doing toasts, so my glass kept getting filled. I wasn't used to alcohol and I didn't realize I was getting tipsy. Soon, even the bank started to look sparkly and all my fellow workers took on a shine. For about half an hour I thought my life was on the right track.

‘But I was prone to migraine even then, and after a while I started to get ill. Feeling sick. I didn't want to cause a scene so I slipped out into the yard at the back of the building. We used to go there sometimes to eat our sandwiches. I needed some air and let the alcohol wear off a bit before I went home.

‘When I got there I found Tel against a wall. He had tears in his eyes. I leant on the wall next to him and asked him what was the matter. He told me that his girlfriend had taken up with an old boyfriend. The bloke had started coming round to the flat she and Tel shared. “She says they're only good friends, but I can tell it's over between us,” he said. “She doesn't look at me in the way she used to. She has nothing to do with me. She's only got eyes for him. She treats me like a lodger. Or worse.”

‘He said he didn't feel comfortable there any more, but he couldn't move back home because his mother had disowned him. She wouldn't let him back in the house. “If I was a proper man I'd do something about that bloke,” he said. He was a bit drunk. He talked and talked. My nausea had passed off, I just stood and listened. Then it started raining, a soft spring rain. The yard glistened in the lights from the kitchen. My best dress got wet; when he realized he was very apologetic. Also because I'd missed the party. The first we knew about it, one of the other counter clerks had been sent to lock up and found us standing out in the dark.

‘A few days later Tel asked if he could take me out for a drink in the pub, and that was how we began to get to know each other. He was always sweet to me, though on the first date he didn't turn up because of some problem with his ex-girlfriend. Some other times he turned up late, very apologetic. He talked a lot about her, he was still having a hard time. He asked me about my life too, though he never really understood my interest in history: “That's all dead and gone, Ant, you want to think about now.” When we went out, he always took me home afterwards on the bus up the Tonbridge Road. The council estate where I lived was on the outskirts of Maidstone.

‘Once as we were saying goodnight outside my parents' front gate, he kissed me. He seemed as taken aback as I was.

‘My mother saw it from the window. “Who's that?” she said when I came in.

‘“Just a friend from work,” I said.

‘“Up to no good,” she said.

‘“What do you mean, Mum?”

‘“Why would a good-looking boy like that be interested in you for the right reasons? The size you are.” She was always reminding me I was fat.

‘The next time Tel and I went out, he seemed a bit awkward with me in the pub and he left sharply the minute we reached my house. But the next time, he paused at the gate and reached out to pull me closer. This time it was serious kissing. I'd never had French kisses before, and I wobbled afterwards as I walked up the path to my parents' front door. Next day when I saw him at work I didn't know where to put my eyes.

‘Our courtship developed from there. We went to the pictures a couple of times. He liked action movies, we went to
Lawman
. He was always kind and he was good company. He used to tease me about being brainy and reading too much. He even borrowed a couple of books from me, some Mary Renault historical novels about ancient Greece. He said he enjoyed them, but I noticed he kept them at work and read them in the lunch hour. He didn't take them home. One night we went to the flicks and saw
Get Carter
. There was a sexy bit in it that was embarrassing. Britt Eckland feeling her breasts on the phone to Michael Caine. We sat there next to each other trying not to touch. The next time we went out, he took me straight to the back seat of the cinema and dived in. I can't remember the film, only his tongue in my throat, and his hands going for my bra. I could tell he was more experienced than me.

‘I knew he was still sharing the place with his ex-girlfriend, but because of all the problems they weren't living as a couple any more. She sometimes came into the bank to speak to him, I tried to keep out of sight. She was so glamorous, she seemed to fill the whole place with her rustling skirts and her jingling jewellery, and she had a kind of husky voice as if everything she said was a secret that was breaking her heart.

‘But I was the one whose heart got broken.

‘In the cinema his hands started to climb over my body more insistently. My flesh was untried and hungry. It wanted to feel his hands wandering everywhere, in every plump corner and secret cranny. But I knew I shouldn't. It became a struggle to keep my bra on. A struggle with him, and a struggle with myself. I always stopped him. Then went home with a flushed face and lay in bed listening to the radio very quiet so my mum couldn't hear, imagining what would have happened if I hadn't.

‘Maybe his ex-girlfriend sensed something was changing, I don't know. Anyway, next time we were having a drink in the Ship Inn, she walked in through the door. She came and joined us, very friendly, as if she'd been invited. She talked a lot, about herself and her work at art college and a project she was doing about comic book heroes.

‘“Tel and I have that in common,” she said. “Crazy about Dan Dare, he is. Have you seen his collection?” No, I hadn't. I sat quiet and listened to her talking. Her voice was very musical, it kind of put a spell on you and I retreated more and more into myself.

‘After a while Tel said “I'm going to take Anthea home now.”

‘Francine stood up, “I'll come too.”'

‘Francine?' Ren looked up. ‘Was that her name?'

Anthea sniffed and took a tissue out of the box on the table. ‘Yes. Francine. On the bus Tel sat next to me and she was on the seat in front, turning round and leaning on the rail, talking about how promising the tutors thought her work was. She was so charming, and I kept thinking how boring Tel must find me. At my front gate I said goodbye to them both and there was no kiss.

‘The next day at work Tel said, “I hope you didn't mind Francine turning up. She wanted to meet you. She really likes you, by the way.” I wondered why, because I'd hardly spoken. For our next date he suggested meeting at the Duke of Marlborough instead.

‘We were both half way through our barley wine. We never spent much – though he was earning, he never seemed to have any money. Then Francine walked in again, and greeted us, “Oh, you're drinking our drink. We've always both adored barley wine, haven't we, lover?” She took some money from his top pocket and went to get herself one. Then she squeezed in between us and sat down.

‘She started talking to me about films. “Tell me about yourself, Ant. What kind of films do you like? Did you see
Claire's Knee
?”

“No, I didn't.”

“I saw it up the West End. The French do boredom so much better than anyone else.
Ennui
. They've even got a better word for it.”

“I missed it.”

“What did you think of
Performance
?”

That, at least, I'd seen, but I had to admit: “I couldn't really understand it.”

“Don't be put off by all the fancy montage. That's what he uses to make you question reality. I mean, what is real? Is it what's on the surface or what's underneath?”

‘I noticed her arm was resting against his. She had bought some cigarettes at the bar; she lit one up, and after a few puffs passed it to him in an easy way as if they shared everything. He drew on it a couple of times then passed it back to her. He didn't usually smoke. I was starting to feel uncomfortable. She laughed. “You can't talk to Tel about films. His favourites are things like
Patton
, lots of shooting and banging. Go on lover, tell Ant about that film you tried to walk out of,
Death in Venice
– he hated it! “Too much hanging about,” he said, but he liked the sex bit, didn't you lover, don't try to deny it, I know you better than that… We had such a laugh.”

‘And so it went on. Again they both took me home. This time she sat next to him on the bus and lent her head against his shoulder. I felt surplus to requirements. Next day at work Tel said, “Francine really enjoyed coming out last night. You didn't mind, did you? She's needing a lot of support at the moment.”

‘Next time we went for a drink he suggested the Hare and Hounds. He was sitting there explaining to me about Rommel's North Africa campaign when Francine rushed in and went up to him. “It's there!” she said in an urgent whisper. “It's happened again! I'm scared to go back there on my own!” She turned and looked at me with eyes that could drill a hole in my head. “Do you believe in psychic phenomena? I have a gift but that makes me a target. I was there on my own and that's fatal. Tel's the only person who can help me. I need him at the flat for protection.”

‘Tel looked at me helplessly. “Francine has a problem with… with… ”

“'You promised you wouldn't tell people,” Francine interrupted, lowering her voice and turning her back on me as if this was for Tel's ears only, although I could hear every word. “What will Ant think of me? She probably thinks I'm crazy as it is. Everyone wants to put me down. It's the same at college…”

‘I tried to apologise, although I wasn't sure what I had done to upset her.

‘Francine ignored me. “There's no-one to help me! I knew this would happen. You promised…”

‘“I'm coming, I'm coming,” said Tel, draining his glass.

‘“You don't mind, do you?” Francine asked me, “He'll be back soon.”

‘I waited in the pub for over an hour, and in the end I went home on my own. I got a migraine and was sick several times in the night.

‘The next morning Tel was late for work. When he came in he looked in an even worse state than me. His eyes were puffy and his face had a flushed look. He didn't look at me straight. “I'm sorry about last night,” he said. “She gets these crises, it's hard to explain.” I felt confused. With hindsight I would say it was a crisis that had been sorted out in bed, but I was innocent about such things at the time.

‘Tel didn't suggest us going out for a while after that. Then one day at coffee break he told me, “Francine says she would like you to come round for a meal.” I was surprised, but the next Friday evening I turned up there as arranged to eat with them.

‘Francine was wearing an orange muslin skirt. It had fringes on the bottom and you could see her legs through the fabric. On the top she had a very low cut bodice, and she had woven ribbons into her hair. I felt plain in my button-up summer dress. The place was really one bedsitting room with a tiny kitchen off it. There was a shared bathroom on the landing. The room was above an optician's and it had two windows looking out over the street. There was a monumental dark wood cupboard and a single bed with an ornate carved headboard. There were colourful ethnic fabrics hung on the walls, and a smell of oil paint. On top of everything and leaning on everything were canvases with pictures of landscapes and portraits and dragons and frames from comic books – a real mixture of themes, all in the process of being painted. I stared at them.

‘“My tutor thinks I've got an unusual talent,” she said.

‘I remember one that was a portrait of a seated man in a suit, he looked quite normal except for his teeth which were abnormally big. It was disturbing.

‘On the floor in a corner was a collection of small wooden carvings. A fox, a badger. A standing naked woman with thick long hair like Francine's. A hedgehog. I found them beautiful. I picked up a horse to look at it.

‘“I got Tel doing those,” Francine said, taking it from me and putting it back with the others. “He spends hours on them, but it gives him an outlet.” She lent over and whispered in my ear, “It keeps him calm.”

‘She was very friendly to me and seemed to be ignoring Tel. There was a coffee table with a faded print of Van Gogh's
Sunflowers
under a glass top. She brought two saucepans in from the kitchen and put them on it, and there was a bottle of wine. We ate with our plates perched on our laps, sitting in a row on an old cracked brown leather sofa. She sat in the middle, and we had to keep our elbows in because there wasn't much room.