Furious Thing

by Jenny Downham

  Ben was standing by the toilet door as I came out. ‘Awesome speech.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘But now I insist on talking to you.’

  ‘You insist?’

  ‘For Iris’s sake.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Come into the garden.’

  A few people were smoking by the door, but we went to the gate that led to the street and sat at a table. I began to feel afraid. ‘What’s this about, Ben?’

  ‘I’ve got something to show you. On my camera. Footage of John.’

  He’d done something terrible. Ben wouldn’t want me to watch it otherwise. ‘I don’t want to see, honestly. Don’t make me.’

  He looked at me quizzically. ‘What’s happened to you, Lex?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You seem different.’

  I shook my head, pretended I didn’t know what he meant. I didn’t want to tell him I was now on ten milligrams of methylphenidate hydrochloride twice daily.

  ‘I haven’t shown this to anyone, Lex, and I’m pretty certain I’m the only one who saw it happen.’ He looked at me, his eyes serious. ‘But you have to watch it, so I know what to do.’

  ‘Ben, you’re freaking me out.’

  He handed me an earbud and put the other in his own ear. He said, ‘I detached the audios, so they switch about. Don’t be weirded out when you hear yourself.’

  ‘I’m in it?’

  He nodded. ‘I whacked a filter on and gave it a title, but we can do more if you want. It’s up to you.’

  He pressed play on the camera. Rose petals spun across a sunlit sky. It was footage from outside the town hall, people milling around after the ceremony, John and Mum laughing, Mum lifting her face up to him. I joined them on the steps and John put his arm around me. The scene died away, and a title appeared: ‘A Good Man.’

  ‘Shit, Ben, what have you done?’

  ‘Just watch.’

  The title grew faint and the video cut to a long shot of Iris round the side of the town hall in the car park, and she was hauling her dress off and underneath were her dungarees. She looked furiously happy as she slung the dress across the bonnet of a car.

  The audio from my speech faded in. ‘… he’ll be a good man. I asked what that meant …’

  The scene evaporated, and the next shot was taken from inside a car, bordered by a window. If I hadn’t been terrified of what was about to happen, I’d have complimented Ben on his framing. But John came zigzagging between parked cars towards camera and his muffled shout took over the audio. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  The camera cut to Iris, much closer now. She looked scared, but then put her hands on her hips and faced up to him like a small and ferocious warrior.

  My voice on the audio said, ‘There are three rules for making another human happy …’

  I stared at Ben in horror. ‘Where were you filming this from?’

  ‘My mum’s car. The sound quality improves now because I opened the window. Keep watching.’

  John marched up to Iris and waved his arms about. She shook her head. He picked up the dress and handed it to her. She threw it back on the bonnet. The camera zoomed in on her sweet, furious face looking up at him. My voice again. ‘I’d like to pass these rules on to you today … The first rule is to be kind.’

  The audio cut to John. ‘Put the dress back on.’

  Iris shook her head.

  ‘Put the bloody thing back on.’

  She laughed in a half-hysterical way and tried to dodge past him. He grabbed her arm and she reacted as if she’d been attacked by a cobra, madly trying to yank herself free.

  ‘Do I have to make you?’

  She tried to shake him off, red-faced and desperate. She was tearful now and he should have let go, but he didn’t. He grabbed her other arm.

  My audio again. ‘The second rule is to be kind.’

  Iris weighed nothing – skinny as a stick and only six. He picked her up by both arms and held her stiffly in front of him. She stared at him. She looked like a toy.

  ‘What’s got into you? There are people waiting. Now put your fucking dress on and stop being a little bitch.’

  ‘The third rule is to be kind.’

  He put her back on her feet. She wobbled briefly, then reached for her dress. She looked dignified as she put it back on. I hated watching her be so brave. I hated watching her brush her arm across her face to wipe away tears in between doing up the buttons. But more than anything, I hated knowing that somewhere off camera, me and Mum were laughing on the town hall steps.

  ‘Why did you film this?’ I whispered.

  ‘I went to the car to get my mum’s coat. It happened right in front of me.’

  ‘And you didn’t stop it? You didn’t get out of the car and do anything?’

  ‘It happened so quick, Lex. The whole thing was over in seconds. I was only filming Iris in the first place because she looked like a superhero getting into her secret costume. I thought it was funny. But then John appeared.’

  I pressed play, watched it again. Ben took out his earbud and sat quietly next to me.

  It was furtive and secret and violent. That’s how John got away with it – he bullied in private when no one was watching, and he smiled his golden smile in public and made you doubt yourself.

  ‘He loves Iris,’ I said. ‘He never talks to her like that.’

  ‘Unless he does?’

  ‘It’s because I let down my guard.’

  ‘It’s not your fault. It really isn’t your fucking fault.’

  I rubbed angrily at my eyes. ‘What am I going to do?’

  ‘Put it on your Facebook page?’

  ‘I can’t let the world see this happen to Iris.’

  ‘You could ask her permission?’

  ‘She’d never give it. Why would she? It’s humiliating. He’s her dad.’

  ‘I could blur their faces?’

  ‘And then it’s a secret again.’

  ‘Except to everyone here today?’

  He took the camera, fiddled with it, then passed it back. ‘Now they’re incognito. The blue share button, top right, sends it to Facebook.’

  ‘I’ve only got three friends on Facebook.’

  ‘It’s a community, Lex. Trust it.’

  I looked at him. I knew what it might do. I thought of Iris. How lovely she was. How young and upright, like a hopeful flower. I thought of Mum. How she longed for a happy ending, when all John did was whittle her away. I thought of myself and the little white pills he made me take twice a day.

  It was a button. It was one click.

  ‘Fuck him,’ I said. And I pressed share.

  36

  I blazed with certainty as I grabbed Iris and barricaded us behind an empty table. Our lives were about to transform. I held her on my lap and circled my arms around her while Ben went to the bar to get drinks.

  ‘I know what happened in the car park,’ I said. ‘When your dad swore at you.’

  She looked at me, wide-eyed. ‘He said the f-word.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And then he called me the b-word.’

  ‘He shouldn’t’ve done that.’ I kissed the top of her head, in that warm place that always smelled of biscuits. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  She shrugged.

  ‘Did you think I wouldn’t believe you? From now on, we’re a sister double act, OK? You promise to tell me everything and I promise always to believe you.’

  She sighed and nestled close. I loved it that she felt safe in my arms.

  Mum came over and said everyone had to vacate the room to let the staff set up for the evening.

  I clutched her hand. ‘Stay here with us.’

  ‘I’m expected upstairs. Come on, girls, you’ll be in the way here. Come and have a cup of tea with me and your dad.’

  My dad? Is that what we were calling him now? I shook my head. ‘We’ll be fine.’

  She didn’t want t
o leave us. But her husband was upstairs, and she’d made her choice.

  ‘Iris?’ I said, when Mum had gone. ‘You know my special medicine?’

  ‘That stops you being cross?’

  ‘I just flushed it down the toilet.’

  ‘Won’t you get in trouble?’

  ‘Things are going to change around here, you’ll see.’

  Someone famous was going to see the video and share it with millions of their followers on Twitter. It would go viral and everyone at the wedding would discover what John was really like and rise against him.

  I couldn’t wait.

  Ben brought the drinks and we watched the room jazz itself up. A DJ set up in the far corner, tables were cleaned, the main lights were dimmed, candles were lit. A buffet table was laid out under the windows and a special stand was erected for the remaining tiers of wedding cake.

  It was like watching a play. Soon, everyone would come back, and new guests would arrive, and phones would begin to buzz and ping and one by one people would glare at John. Then we’d lock the doors and shut the windows and tie him to a chair and make him watch the video over and over until Granddad’s words went into him and Iris’s tears penetrated his soul and he begged forgiveness and promised never to be unkind again.

  It’d be like an exorcism.

  I turned to Ben and whispered, ‘When everything kicks off, we’ll have to get Iris away. I don’t want her seeing her dad disgraced.’

  Ben frowned. ‘It’s not going to be instant, Lex. It doesn’t work like that.’

  ‘You were the one who told me to trust it.’

  ‘Trust what?’ Iris said.

  ‘Nothing,’ I told her. ‘Never mind. Hey, look who’s here.’

  It was Meryam and the women from earlier – all glammed up and ready to party. I waved at them as they stood twinkling in the doorway and beckoned them over.

  ‘Team handy,’ I told Ben.

  ‘Told you we’d come,’ Barbara said, bending down to kiss my cheek and then rubbing at the place with her thumb. ‘Oops, now I’ve put lipstick on you.’

  Meryam introduced the others. ‘You remember Melis? And this is Gwen, of course. And Stef and Imani.’ Like spells from a long-ago time, their names, as they each leaned in to kiss me.

  They said I looked like Mum when they first knew her. I’d forgotten they all went back years together. They cooed at Iris and told her she looked like her dad. They already knew Ben and covered him in kisses. He didn’t seem to mind. They gazed about and wondered where everyone was. ‘We the first ones here?’ I told them to join us, but there were more of them coming, they said, so they took the table next to us and shoved another alongside it. They pilfered chairs from other tables. They dumped coats and bags in a heap on the floor. They marched over to the DJ with early requests and made him write them all down. Barbara took drinks orders and then forgot them and yelled over from the bar and they all shouted back at her.

  Iris sucked her thumb and gawped at them.

  ‘They’re Mum’s friends,’ I said. ‘Aren’t they brilliant?’

  John’s guests seemed dull as they wandered back and settled themselves politely at tables around the room. Compared to them, Mum’s crowd were like a rowdy soccer team. I knew they’d protect us when John saw the video and things heated up.

  ‘It’s going to be OK,’ I told Ben. ‘We’re a tribe.’

  He looked up from his phone. ‘Cerys has seen it.’

  ‘Seen what?’ Iris said.

  It was beginning. I felt a thrill deep in my gut. ‘Send it to your mum. Tell her to share it with the others.’

  He nodded, his eyes shining. I wanted to kiss him, just lean over and touch my lips against his. I’d never had that feeling for Ben before and it was shocking.

  ‘What?’ he said. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

  I blushed, couldn’t hold his gaze. Was it gratitude? Was I drunk? I didn’t feel drunk. I felt as sharp and clear as a beam of sunlight.

  Mum and John appeared at the door, hand in hand. I checked John’s face for clues, but he seemed calm. Not yet, not yet. There was a smattering of applause and the DJ played Kylie’s, ‘Can’t get you out of my head,’ and Mum laughed, her other hand sliding under John’s jacket. I can’t breathe without him.

  Mum’s friends were like a flock of birds, launching themselves from the table and surrounding her.

  ‘Where have you been?’ they twittered. ‘We started the party without you.’

  ‘Upstairs,’ Mum said, ‘freshening up.’

  Barbara winked and mugged, ‘Freshening up!’ and all the women laughed as if Mum had said she’d been having sex.

  Meryam wanted a group shot and asked John to take it. Then everyone wanted one and he looked awkward standing there being bossed about, being told how phones worked and which buttons to press.

  ‘Come on,’ he said to Mum eventually. ‘We have other guests.’

  The women clung to Mum. ‘Stay with us,’ they cried.

  But she smiled and said she had to go. John took her arm and made a neat little bow to the women. ‘Can we sort this dreadful music out?’ I heard him say as he walked away.

  ‘You just wait,’ I muttered.

  Cerys arrived, looking amazing. She swooped on me and pulled me into a hug. She whispered, ‘It’s had fifty likes already.’ She stood up again and blew a kiss at Iris. ‘Hey, gorgeous.’

  I stared at her. ‘You’re kidding?’

  ‘Not kidding. Although “like” is the incorrect word, obviously. There are comments too.’

  She passed me her phone and Ben leaned in. There were three comments from people I’d never heard of.

  This guy’s a shit.

  What a loser.

  Call the cops on the tosser. That’s f***ing child abuse.

  My tribe was swelling. For the first time, people were seeing what John was like. ‘We made this happen,’ I breathed.

  ‘You made it happen,’ Ben said.

  Iris wanted to know what we were looking at, so Ben took her off to the bar to get crisps. Cerys slid into his chair. ‘I’m sorry I gave you such crap advice,’ she said. ‘Be nice? What use is that? I should’ve told you to kick him in the nuts.’

  I laughed. It came spilling out of me.

  She laughed too. ‘You’re literally the bravest person I know.’

  I wasn’t sure that was true, but I wanted it to be. I asked her to help Ben take Iris away when things got dramatic and she agreed at once. I grabbed her hand. ‘Let’s dance.’

  We were devastating. We were wild. We danced like we meant it, like a new age was dawning and it was one where wicked girls were in charge.

  The attention of the room turned towards us. Faces flickered in candlelight. There was Roger with his pale moustache. There was Monika, looking mildly amused. There were groups of people from the architects’ office with their clever eyes. There was John, his arm loosely slung around Mum. He didn’t look happy to see us gloriously dancing, but I didn’t care. Soon, John, soon …

  Ben and Iris joined us. I held Iris’s hands and spun her. The DJ pumped up the volume. Ben pulled Meryam to her feet and the other women followed. I requested anti-love songs and the DJ stacked them up – ‘Bad Romance’ by Lady Gaga, ‘Grounds for Divorce’ by Elbow, ‘Tainted Love’ by Soft Cell. John put a stop to it after the first one, replacing Elbow with some classic jazz, but still we danced.

  Music poured through me. I had an endless supply of energy. I breathed in the perfume of the women, the warmth of our moving bodies. It was Saturday night, and nothing could stop us.

  ‘Kass has seen it,’ Cerys said at one point and flashed her phone at me. She may have deleted his number, but he still had hers …

  My dad’s a prick. Tell Lex I’m sorry.

  ‘Sorry’ didn’t do anything though, did it, Kass? ‘Sorry’ lets you stay safe under your palm tree. ‘Tell him to share the video,’ I yelled.

  Mum came over. I knew she’d been sent by J
ohn. I could tell from her eggshell walk. ‘Can you tone it down?’ she said. ‘You’re being very rowdy.’

  I shook my head, pretended the music was too loud to hear her.

  She came closer. ‘You’re a bit raucous. Maybe it’s time for a break?’

  I grabbed her hand, pulled her into the dance. ‘Maybe it’s time to boogie.’

  Be on our team. Join our tribe.

  She was reluctant, embarrassed, probably aware of John glaring at us from the other side of the room. But we surrounded her, encouraged her, and soon she was dancing with the rest of us, lifting her dress and flashing her ankles as she moved. Iris did the same, so we could all see the denim underneath. We danced together – a whole crowd of women and Ben – faster and faster, like fireworks whizzing and spinning.

  And under the room, in some electric network, the video was being shared, the private John was being seen and the world was about to shift.

  He grabbed me when I went back to the table for some water. ‘Sit down,’ he said.

  I did as he asked, just straightaway did it. Like a reflex.

  He pulled up a chair and sat opposite me, his back to the room. He bent close. I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

  He said, ‘I’ve just seen a link to a video that’s posted from your Facebook page. A video that’s been edited – by your lanky mate, I presume – to present me in a false and malicious light.’

  I tried to keep looking at him, tried not to look scared.

  He said, ‘You know that video’s illegal? You’ve heard of defamation of character?’

  It was happening again – that smoke and mirrors thing. The words that made me feel unsure who was right.

  He stared at me for a couple of seconds. ‘You probably don’t know much history, since you never listen at school – but I suggest you look up Hitler Youth and see how they betrayed their parents and then ask yourself if you’re not a nasty and vindictive little girl.’

  The words that twisted everything, so I ended up being the bad one.

  He said, ‘How do you think your mum’s going to feel about this? Ashamed, do you reckon? Disappointed you tried to ruin her day, despite your promises? And Iris? Do you think she’ll ever forgive you for putting her tantrum on the internet?’