Unbecoming

by Jenny Downham

  ‘But only if I get an A and two Bs.’

  ‘I’m sure you will,’ Mary said (still holding her hand). ‘You seem so lovely and clever.’

  Simona laughed. ‘I should get back to work. But we’ll talk again later, yeah?’

  It went on like that for days. Katie worried that someone would see her. Kids in her year were doing their work experience in shops and offices in town. She saw people she recognized everywhere, especially at lunch time as they walked back to the flat – the grass opposite the café, the benches outside Lidl, the steps of the library, hanging around the market stalls. She imagined the gossip if Amy or any of that lot noticed – Katie Baxter’s still going to that café every morning, even though she’s got a boyfriend. Yeah, she’s obviously two-timing him. It’s so disgusting. Can you imagine what her and that dyke get up to?

  It would be easier to stay in bed, to draw the duvet up and tell her mum that she was sick, she had a fever and couldn’t possibly look after Mary any more.

  Jamie’s texts didn’t help. He thought the walk in the park had been ‘LVLY’. He thought the coffee they’d had together was ‘GRT’. But would she be free to go to the arts centre one afternoon next week? There was a film on he thought she might like. She told him yes because she couldn’t bear to tell him no. She knew how being told no felt. She wasn’t sure when, though. She’d let him know. Because if Mary wanted to go to the café all the time and Mum was paying Katie to take her, what spare time did she have?

  Simona joined them for a few minutes each day. She said her boss didn’t mind, that good customer relations were all part of the service. She started putting a reserved sign on one of the outside tables, so Mary could smoke. Then one day as they arrived at the café, Simona said, ‘Got something for you.’ Katie thought for one startling moment that she meant something for her, but no, she had a book for Mary about theatre in the fifties and sixties. She’d sent off for it and it was Mary’s to keep. It was mostly pictures, Simona said, so why didn’t she sit with them and they could look through it together?

  Mary turned the pages and Simona talked about different theatres and different plays and how actors received four pounds a week, and digs cost two pounds with all the food and laundry thrown in and how most actors did a different show every week and only got Sundays and Mondays off.

  Mary listened as if she was falling under a spell. Katie too sat completely tongue-tied. She couldn’t stop looking at Simona’s long brown legs, her gaze travelling down them to her sandals and the purple nail varnish and the ankle bracelet with little silver beads.

  ‘I remember the audience always laughed,’ Mary said. ‘And they always clapped very loudly.’

  She went on to tell them about the men who waited for her at the stage door each night, and how she was always being invited out to dinner, and how one young man kept buying her roses and how one of the others demanded he take his roses away and when the first man refused, the second man invited him to roll up his sleeves and sort things out and they both got bloody noses.

  ‘Noses instead of roses,’ she chuckled.

  They all laughed at that and Mary beamed with delight because she loved being funny. Then she asked if she could cut out the pictures in the book and Simona said, ‘Sure,’ and got her some scissors.

  ‘We have a wall,’ Katie said, as Simona sat back down, ‘in my bedroom, where we stick important stuff. If Mary sees the same thing over and over, it helps her remember. That’s why we come here so much.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Simona’s slow smile drew light and dark into Katie’s belly at once. ‘And there’s me thinking I was the main attraction.’

  Neither of them looked away. Katie felt as if she was plummeting downhill and nothing was stopping her. She found herself saying, ‘Can I ask you something?’

  And the whole café seemed to slow down and go suddenly silent. The people at other tables faded into the background like they do in movies when someone’s stopped time. Even Mary blurred at the edges. Only Katie and Simona had definition or focus.

  ‘Are the rumours about you true?’

  Simona’s eyes brightened with laughter. ‘What rumours are we talking about?’

  ‘What they say about you at school.’

  ‘What do they say?’

  Heat rose in Katie again. She was flushed with it. ‘Never mind.’

  Simona was nearly eighteen, soon to be out of here. Katie was only just seventeen, shipwrecked for another year with no way out. When Simona went off to university, which she was bound to do, Katie would be immersed in gossip – the only one left, the only one to be stared at and scorned.

  Simona said, ‘I think it might be time for that chat we never had, don’t you?’

  Katie wanted to say, What chat? But she knew it would sound like a lie, so she kept quiet.

  Simona leaned closer. Katie could feel the warmth build along her right arm – through her cardigan and her dress, until it bloomed on her skin.

  ‘I tell you what,’ Simona said. ‘I’ll make it easy for you. You get to ask me three questions and I promise I’ll answer truthfully.’

  She stood up and started collecting the plates and Katie thought maybe the offer wasn’t on now. Maybe you had to answer quickly or things got cancelled. The café spun back into life. Mary turned a page of her book, tea cups wobbled, somewhere a phone chirruped.

  ‘What kind of questions?’ Katie’s voice sounded hoarse.

  ‘Whatever you can think of.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Whenever you’re ready.’

  Twenty-four

  Now. She was ready now. It was all arranged.

  Katie put ten pounds on the table in front of Chris. ‘Wages for one hour, OK?’

  ‘You’re not supposed to leave me. Mum said not to.’

  ‘You’ll be fine. All you have to do is sit here and keep Mary company. If you want anything else from the menu, just order and I’ll pay when I get back.’

  ‘Where are you going?

  Mary snapped her scissors merrily. ‘Off for an adventure with all that beautiful hair.’ She’d finished her coffee and cake and was cutting out pictures from Simona’s book again. ‘I would if I were you. I’d run like the wind.’

  Chris frowned. ‘Why can’t we come?’

  ‘I won’t be long. Don’t do anything mad. I’ll be back soon.’

  He buried his face in his arms on the table and started doing his ragged breathing trick. A couple of people glanced over and Katie nearly changed her mind. The only reason she didn’t was because if she didn’t show up at the library garden in the next five minutes, Simona might come looking for her. She might insist on Katie asking the questions in the café. In front of an audience!

  ‘Just do this for me, Chris, and I’ll do whatever you want later, OK?’

  ‘You won’t.’ He sat up and glared at her. ‘I bet you a million pounds.’

  ‘Why? What do you want to do?’

  ‘See Dad.’

  ‘You’re right, I’m not letting you do that.’

  Mary laughed. ‘I’ll take you. Who is it you want to see?’

  Chris slumped back down again. ‘I knew it. I knew today would be terrible.’

  His voice was too loud for the café and Katie put her finger on her lips to let him know. ‘I have to go. Drink your hot chocolate, Chris.’

  ‘It’s cold chocolate. It got cold really quickly.’ He pushed the mug away, sloshing cream and milk across the table.

  More people were looking – the old man at the corner table, a couple of women by the door. They were pretending not to, but they definitely were. Katie frowned at them before grabbing a napkin and mopping up the mess. ‘You’re just going to have to trust me on this one, Chris.’

  ‘You sound like Mum.’

  She leaned down and whispered, ‘I never ask you to do anything. Please, just do this one thing for me?’

  ‘You’re not the boss.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Stop
telling me what to do.’

  ‘OK, I’m going. Look after each other.’

  As she walked away, Katie felt as if she was shrugging them off, as if she was turning into somebody else. She was wearing the Givenchy dress and she’d left her hair loose. She felt like a girl in a magazine.

  Simona was sitting on a bench at the back of the library garden. She had her eyes closed and her face turned to the sun. The place was empty, like a walled garden in a fairy tale. Light danced through leaves and dappled the grass.

  Katie stood at the gate for minutes. She thought of all the things she knew about Simona now. The list was adding up. She worked in a café to save money for university. She wanted to be a theatre director. Katie had never seen her afraid. She was kind to Mary. She’d agreed to answer three questions truthfully. Katie wasn’t sure what happened after three. Would she tell lies after that?

  Katie opened the gate. Simona sat up blindly, briefly dazzled by the sun. She shaded her eyes as Katie walked over. It seemed a very long walk with Simona watching. Katie stood on the grass in front of her.

  Simona said, ‘Little black dress today, is it?’

  ‘Mary wanted me to wear it.’ Total lie, but Katie didn’t want Simona to think she’d worn the most valuable dress in Mary’s collection for her.

  ‘I like your hair. It’s better loose.’

  Having Simona look at her outside the café was something else – too bold or too electric. Like an alarm.

  ‘I haven’t got long,’ Katie said. ‘My brother’s sitting with Mary and he’s a bit upset, so shall I just get on with it?’

  Simona said nothing. She licked her lips and frowned.

  ‘I wrote them down,’ Katie said. She sat on the bench and opened her bag. She’d planned to say something about how long it had taken her last night to think of three really good questions and how she’d written a whole load at the back of Mary’s memory book, how she’d divided them into two columns – safe and dangerous – and then ended up writing a stream of consciousness monologue which ended with the lines, Why the pain? What’s the deal? Is it wrong to feel this real? But none of that felt appropriate now. The only way to manage this was to be efficient and business-like. Katie would only ask questions that Simona was expecting and she would definitely not ask any questions from the dangerous list. Actually, sitting here alone with Simona in the garden, even the safe questions seemed too much.

  Katie said, ‘OK, my first question is the one I asked you before. Are the rumours about you true?’

  Simona sighed. ‘That’s your first question?’

  Katie nodded very slowly.

  ‘That’s a total waste of a question. You already know the answer.’

  ‘Rumours don’t make something true.’

  Simona shrugged. ‘No smoke without fire.’

  ‘That’s rubbish. Some of the things people say about me are crap. Like the stuff about Esme, about me jumping her.’

  ‘Oh? What wasn’t true about that?’

  ‘I didn’t jump her. She was totally up for it.’

  Simona laughed. ‘I bet she was.’

  What was that supposed to mean? Was she being ironic, like no one would want Katie to jump them because she was so ugly? Or was she being serious, like she could understand the attraction? And why was it so much harder to meet Simona’s eyes now they were alone? At the café there was stuff to look at, other people around. Here, it was just the two of them and it made everything more exposed.

  ‘All right, well, I’ll scrap the first question.’ Katie knew she sounded hostile. ‘When did you first know?’

  Simona didn’t even hesitate. ‘I was three years old. I fell in love with my nursery teacher. There were tell-tale signs every day after that.’ She raised a jaunty eyebrow. ‘Next question.’

  ‘Do your parents know and, if they do, how did they find out?’

  A tiny pause. Did she flinch? ‘That’s two questions.’

  ‘They’re related. They count as one.’

  ‘OK. There was this girl, Anna, who I met when I was thirteen. We went to the same drama group and by fifteen we were going out. I never actually told my parents, but I didn’t hide it either. I was sixteen when they finally sat me down and asked. I didn’t deny it. There were tears – mostly because my mum was convinced she’d never have grandchildren, but I put her right on that and they were pretty cool once they got used to the idea. But Anna totally freaked out. She was terrified my parents would tell hers. She stopped speaking to me, left the group, wouldn’t reply to mails or texts. Later, I heard she moved house, so I never saw her again. End of story. I found out the hard way that most people will go to ridiculous lengths to deny who they are.’

  ‘What if Anna didn’t know who she was?’

  ‘Is that your last question?’

  ‘No, it’s just she might not have been certain.’

  ‘What, you think maybe I jumped her?’ Simona raised her eyebrow again and Katie smiled. She couldn’t help it.

  ‘You’re very pretty when you smile,’ Simona said.

  Katie looked away, feigned interest in a spot at the end of the garden. She could hear her own heart hammering.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Simona said. ‘It’s just an observation.’ She pulled up a clump of grass and sprinkled seeds on her lap, sifting through them as if she was looking for something.

  ‘I’ve had a couple of dates with a boy,’ Katie said. ‘Just walking and coffee and stuff. I like him – he’s funny and kind, but I don’t … Oh, I don’t know. It’s hard to talk about.’

  ‘You don’t fancy him?’

  ‘I think I say yes to the wrong stuff sometimes, you know what I mean? It’s difficult to be certain about things. That’s what I mean about your friend Anna – maybe she wasn’t as sure as you thought. Maybe, when her parents found out, she—’

  ‘Believe me,’ Simona said, cutting her off, ‘she was very sure.’ She pulled out another bunch of grass. Katie could hear the rustle of the stems, the dry earth resisting. She could hear the soft strim as Simona stripped the seeds. Why did everything sound so loud and so close? Katie’s eyes travelled back across the garden to the gap between Simona’s skirt and her T-shirt. Her skin was just visible.

  Simona looked at her then. And the way her eyes fingered Katie’s hair. She wasn’t imagining that, was she?

  Katie said, ‘Teach me.’

  Simona laughed, it fell out of her. ‘Did you just say, teach me?’

  ‘I want to be sure.’ Katie’s voice was a whisper, but she wasn’t scared. Isn’t this why she was here, why she’d come? All the dangerous questions were summed up in those two words. Teach me. Yes. It was exactly what she wanted. ‘Teach me about love with a girl.’

  Simona leaned against the back of the bench looking at Katie. ‘You mean physically?’

  Katie nodded, couldn’t speak.

  Seconds went by, minutes maybe, and then Simona narrowed her eyes like she’d decided something. ‘Would it have to be a secret?’

  ‘Yes.’ Katie’s voice was very quiet. How did Simona know what she was thinking?

  ‘So, you want us to get together, but you wouldn’t want anyone to know? No one at school, not Mary or your mum or anyone at the café. You want me to promise not to tell?’

  ‘Yes please.’

  Simona leaned in close, her breath hot on Katie’s shoulder. ‘The thing is,’ she whispered, ‘I’m not much good at secrets. I tend to let things slip. I might need to urgently hold your hand in the street, or smell your skin or suddenly sit right down on the pavement and lick your feet. How would that be?’

  Fear saturated Katie’s body. She knew Simona saw it, maybe even expected it, because her eyes hardened.

  ‘This isn’t something I pick up and put down.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘I’m not going to hide just so you can conduct your research.’

  ‘You don’t have to. I’ll be the one who’s hiding.’

  Simona pointed to
the road beyond the little gate. ‘Look over there.’

  ‘Look at what?’

  ‘At the world over there. The shops, the people.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, they’re just people. Most of them are idiots and none of them are worth cowering for.’

  Katie didn’t want her to do this. She’d felt so certain before and now Simona was spoiling it.

  ‘Admit it,’ Simona said. ‘That was probably the worst idea you’ve ever had. Teach you! Ha! I mean, I can see you like hanging round with me and I can’t say I blame you – I’m wildly attractive and in huge demand.’ She raised an eyebrow self-mockingly. ‘But I’m afraid I’m not able to make the necessary sacrifices.’

  ‘OK, let’s drop it.’

  ‘No, let’s not.’ Simona held up a hand as if asking for silence. ‘Lesson number one … you can’t have the strawberries without the shit. There – you can have that bit of wisdom for free.’

  Katie stood up, needed to get away. It was humiliating and embarrassing and she was an idiot. Had she really just asked Simona Williams to teach her? Her face was one hot flush of shame as she jogged towards the gate. Out there was the street. The café. Mary. Chris. She’d take them home. She’d shut the doors and draw the curtains and never come outside again.

  ‘Hey!’ Simona came running up behind Katie, caught her arm and swung her round. ‘Don’t leave.’

  ‘I have to get back to Mary.’

  ‘She’ll be all right for a minute.’

  Katie didn’t understand. Hadn’t Simona just laughed at her? Hadn’t she just suggested Katie was a total coward? So why was she pulling her towards the side of the library? It was shady, damp, hidden from the road.

  ‘Let go of my arm, Simona.’

  ‘I can’t. My fingers are stuck.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘Serious. You’re going to have to kick me or something.’