Flick

by Geraldine Meade

  ‘Not even a little bit?’ she asks.

  ‘Nope,’ I say, ‘I was right, it was just a phase and it’s over.’

  ‘Trying to ignore any part of who we are isn’t healthy, Felicity,’ she says; ‘it’s damaging and it can really hurt us so you need to be sure that you’re not changing just to suit other people.’

  ‘Of course I’m not. Anyway, shouldn’t you be helping me rather than confusing me with all this stuff? You’re not helping, you know. You should be supporting me; you should be showing me how I can get through this stupid phase, not making it worse.’

  ‘Science has proven, Felicity, that our sexual orientation is part of our genetic make-up; it’s part of who we are and it doesn’t change. Trying to be someone you’re not is –’

  ‘That’s not true,’ I say, standing up. ‘Don’t try telling me who I am, cause you don’t know. I’m not one of those … I’m not like that! I never was and I never will be, so just leave me alone.’

  I storm out the door, swearing I’ll never come back and promising myself that it’s the last time I’m ever going to think or talk about girls like that again.

  CHAPTER 46

  I don’t show up for my appointment with Dr Rodge on Friday. I think I’ve gotten away with it till we’re in the middle of dinner.

  ‘You didn’t go to Dr Rodgerie today?’ Mam says as I push some pasta around the plate.

  ‘I got held up at school so I missed it … I did try to ring but I couldn’t get through.’

  ‘Right,’ she says sceptically, ‘and when were you going to tell us?’

  ‘Now,’ I say. ‘I was just about to say.’

  She looks at Dad.

  ‘So you’re not thinking of leaving your sessions?’ he asks.

  ‘No,’ I lie, ‘although I’d prefer to go to a different counsellor.’

  ‘But why?’ Mam asks.

  ‘Dr Rodge is so annoying and she never listens to what I say, ever, she just makes everything worse.’

  ‘She’s supposed to be one of the best,’ Dad says.

  ‘Well, you go to her, so,’ I say, pushing back my chair. I storm out of the room.

  I’m sitting on the bed, messing around on the guitar when Mam comes up later.

  ‘Can I come in?’ she asks, her head peeping round the door.

  I don’t think I have a choice in the matter so I don’t say anything.

  ‘Do you really want to find a new counsellor?’ she asks as she sits down on the bed.

  ‘Can’t I just stop going to anyone?’ I ask, ‘it’s been weeks and weeks and I’m better now.’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ she replies, ‘Dr Rodgerie said you’re making excellent progress and the sessions are helping a lot.’

  I roll my eyes.

  ‘It’s just that if you go to someone new it will mean getting to know and trust them and starting from scratch all over again. Are you sure that’s what you want?’ she asks.

  I imagine months of long, boring and painful sessions with someone worse than Dr Rodge.

  ‘I’ll just go back,’ I finally say, but I’m silently promising myself that I’m going to do whatever it takes to finish with these blasted sessions as quickly as I can.

  * * *

  I head out with Kar and the girls from school on Saturday night while Fee and Kev are off having a romantic meal. Of course I drink loads, a) so I can forget about Joey and b) so I have the guts to snog someone. The ‘someone’ turns out to be this really sleazy geek who I last ten minutes with before heading to the loos and vomiting, but better that it’s happened here than at home – at least that’s what I tell myself as I stare into the toilet bowl. Kar and Arnie eventually get me into a taxi and bring me home to bed where I stay till three o’ clock the next day. Mam and Dad are so not impressed.

  I head back to my session on Monday; I swear it’s the longest ever. After reassuring me for a bit Dr Rodge sits back and waits for me to do the talking. I hardly say anything and she says even less.

  By the following Friday my brain is fried and things are rapidly going downhill but I still won’t talk to Dr Rodge. I stand around outside for a few minutes after the session, then try to persuade myself as I walk away that I’m not bothered about Joey but I can’t help looking back, just to make sure she’s not there.

  School’s crap as well. The teachers have been on my back for weeks now, telling me that the exams are just around the corner, as if I need reminding. To top it all off I know for a fact that Mam and Dad are talking about me; they start whispering every time I leave the room and I know they’re up to something. I’m wishing the tablets had worked that time and wonder if there’s any other easy way for a coward like me to make it all stop.

  CHAPTER 47

  It’s a dull and cloudy Saturday and I am standing by a grave in the freezing cold with Mam, Dad and Kev. I peer down into the darkness and a shiver goes up my spine. Mam is bawling, even worse than when grandma died and Dad’s trying to console her while Kev is just standing there in a daze or half-asleep or something. I guess I must look much the same as him cause I can’t for the life of me remember who it is that’s actually popped their clogs. I look up and see Fee and Kar sniffling away as well. I try to catch their attention with a cough and then a sneeze but they don’t seem to notice so I look around some more. Jeez, loads of people from school are here; maybe it’s Moran or better still Cunningham that’s bitten the bullet. But then the priest starts rabbiting on about how sweet and friendly and happy the poor sod was. Cunningham? Sweet? No way. I think,

  ‘Kev,’ I hiss. He doesn’t hear me. ‘Kev,’ I say a little louder as I give him a dig, ‘are you deaf?’ There’s absolutely no reaction.

  ‘And so as we commit Felicity to the ground …’ the priest drones.

  I stop and stare, confused, then give a short laugh but no one even notices. I strain to see the small gold plate on the coffin and sure enough, there’s my name.

  ‘Wait,’ I shout, ‘that’s not me; I’m here, look!’ But he just keeps talking and these four big guys come and start lowering in the coffin.

  ‘Wait, stop!’ I shout. ‘I’m right here; are you blind?’

  They keep going.

  ‘Mam, Mam, look, it’s me! Mam, look at me!’ I roar, but she just cries even harder and stares into the hole. I feel all sick and queasy and desperate.

  ‘Dad,’ I shout, ‘Dad, will you just look at me?’

  I’m just about to shake him when I slip and fall backwards. I scream before I land with a thud on top of the coffin. In seconds I’m standing, trying to claw my way back out of the narrow black hole but the sides are so steep and high and everyone seems so far away.

  ‘Dad! Dad, please!’

  I try the others when he doesn’t respond.

  ‘Kev, Mam, help me up; I’ve slipped in.’ I shout over and over but they just stand there staring without seeing me.

  ‘Someone, anyone, help, please, I’m here, I’m alive!’

  Mam bends over and looks down at me.

  ‘Oh Mam, thank God; I was so afraid.’

  She throws something and I cover my face as pieces of clay fall on top of me. Dad and Kev follow suit. My pleads turn to shouts of anger. I keep trying to climb out and, once, I nearly make it. Come on, I think, I’m nearly there. But at the last second I slip and fall right back down again. Just as the prayers finish the first drops of rain begin to fall. Immediately people turn and head for cover.

  ‘Wait,’ I shout as they turn away. But no one looks or hears or helps. ‘Wait, please Mam, I’m sorry,’ I shout as she walks away. I fall to my knees. ‘Mam, Dad, I’m really sorry, please help me,’ I cry. But there’s no one there any more; they’ve all gone.

  For a moment I stand looking up, wondering desperately what to do. Then she appears at the edge of the grave. She’s all in black and she looks so sad and lonely and I’m so thrilled to see her.

  ‘Joey,’ I say and I see her head move a little, ‘help me please, I can’t get out.
’

  ‘It didn’t have to be this way,’ she whispers. ‘It could have been different, better.’

  ‘I know that now. I’m sorry; I just didn’t know what else to do,’ I reply.

  She doesn’t say anything, just stares down at me.

  ‘I love you,’ she whispers, ‘and I always will.’

  She throws a red rose towards me, a speck of color in my darkness. A tear falls down her face before she turns and walks away.

  ‘Joey, wait,’ I call but she doesn’t look back. ‘Joey, I’m sorry, please wait, help me, I’m afraid, please, I’m sorry.’

  But she’s gone.

  ‘Mam,’ I scream, ‘help me, help!’

  I start to climb again, frantically, but I just can’t get up. I stare up at the black clouds overhead. Everything is so dark and I’m so scared. I call again just as the first shovelful of clay is thrown on top of me, then another and another. I begin to scream as bit by bit I’m drowned in a sea of heavy blackness.

  When my voice and all hope is gone I feel her in the darkness beside me, whispering and crying and telling me not to worry, that I’m safe, that she’s here and everything will be OK. I close my eyes, exhausted.

  CHAPTER 48

  I wake slowly from the nightmare, still surrounded by darkness. Where am I? Am I dead? I wonder, my mind reeling. My eyes become accustomed to the dark and I’m relieved to see outlines of the old familiar things I’ve lived with for so long. I turn and look at the empty space beside me and wonder whether Mam had ever been there at all. I sit up, already afraid of going back to sleep, so I grab my dressing gown and a blanket and tiptoe downstairs to the sitting-room. I stop in the doorway. Mam and Dad are there. Dad’s holding Mam, trying to comfort her. She’s crying. I want to run the other way, to slide back unseen into the darkness and back to my room but the moment I take a step backwards a floorboard creaks and they both look up.

  ‘Felicity,’ Dad says with a smile as Mam quickly dries her eyes, ‘are you OK?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘We thought you’d fallen back asleep. Come and sit and I’ll make us all some nice hot chocolate.’ Dad suggests.

  I do as I’m told. ‘Is everything all right, Mam?’ I ask, not really wanting to hear the answer.

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ she replies, giving me a brief smile of reassurance. ‘So, how are you?’ she asks.

  ‘Fine,’ I lie.

  ‘Do you remember the nightmare?’ she asks. I shake my head, hoping she’ll give up. ‘It’s just … you were calling out a lot … for me … and Dad and I just wondered …’ She trails off.

  ‘Sorry,’ I mumble.

  ‘I’m worried about you, Felicity,’ she whispers and she’s wringing her hands.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I reply weakly.

  ‘No, you’re not,’ she says shaking her head. ‘I know you keep saying you are, but you’re not eating, you’re not sleeping, you seem so sad all the time and it scares me.’

  ‘It’s just a teenage thing,’ I say, trying to laugh it off.

  ‘I just don’t know what to do.’ she says. ‘I don’t know how to help.’ She folds her arms in tightly to her chest and sits for a moment with her head down while I sit quietly watching her, wishing I could escape. ‘It was just so awful that day when we found you,’ she murmurs, ‘I didn’t know what to do … I felt so helpless.’

  Oh God no, I think, not this, please not this.

  ‘And when I saw you being put into that ambulance, not moving … I didn’t even think you were breathing …’ she sniffs, then puts her head in her hands. ‘I thought you were dead,’ she whimpers and her words sound all distorted.

  Tears are flooding down her face and although I lean forward a little I don’t move off the couch. I just want Dad to be back beside her. I know I should reassure her and all that but I haven’t a clue what to say. I feel a lump in my throat as I watch her.

  ‘It was the worst moment of my life, seeing you like that, my baby, my little girl,’ she says as she shakes her head, as if trying to forget the memory. ‘It broke my heart,’ she sobs. ‘It’s worse than an accident or an illness – at least you’ve no control over them … but this … I felt it was my fault. I hadn’t seen the signs. I hadn’t been looking at you or listening to you closely enough. I let it happen.’

  She sobs uncontrollably and I automatically move towards her chair and place my hand on her back.

  ‘It wasn’t your fault Mam; it was just me,’ I say, feeling a tight pain across my chest. ‘Please don’t cry … it wasn’t your fault, I swear.’

  But she just keeps crying, ignoring my half-hearted attempts to reassure her.

  ‘I can see it all starting again, Felicity, and I’m so scared. I don’t want you to feel like this. I don’t want you to think that you’ve no other choice but nothing I do seems to get through.’ She starts crying again. I want to tell her to ‘shhh’ but I don’t; I don’t do anything, just stand there. ‘I just don’t know what to do…whenever I ask you if you’re all right you just tell me you’re fine. But you’re not; I know you’re not. Those signs that I missed the first time are back again. I can see it on your face; I can hear it in all the things you don’t say. I can feel it.’

  She looks up at me and I look away. Tears prick my eyes and I quickly blink them back before they escape.

  ‘I can’t let it happen again, Felicity,’ she says, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes. ‘I won’t let it happen again.’ I bite my lip, feel the metallic taste of my own blood and say nothing. ‘If I can’t help you then I’m going to get someone who will,’ she continues a little more adamantly.

  I think of Dr Rodge.

  ‘I’m going to ring Dr Rodgerie in the morning about taking you back to hospital for a while,’ she says.

  ‘What?’ I say, my voice suddenly rising. ‘Are you serious?’

  She looks up at me and nods.

  ‘Please, Mam, don’t,’ I cry. ‘I’m doing really well with Dr Rodge, really I am; I like her, I swear.’

  ‘Felicity, I’ll do anything to stop this happening again. They’ll know what to do and how to help. They do it all the time.’

  ‘Please, don’t put me back inside,’ I beg.

  ‘They said if you ever needed to go back, even for a day or two, that you could,’ she continues, ‘and maybe you’ll talk to them.’

  ‘I won’t, I swear, I won’t tell them anything,’ I say, tears streaming down my face.

  ‘I have to,’ she says.

  ‘Please, Mam,’ I whisper.

  ‘Then tell me what’s wrong Felicity,’ she sobs. ‘I can help.’

  I shake my head. ‘It’s nothing; there’s nothing wrong.’

  ‘Please, Felicity … is it something to do with me or Dad? Maybe it’s school and exams?’ I continue to shake my head. ‘Is it a boy? We’ve all had boy trouble,’ she says, a little hysterical now. ‘Felicity, if you can’t tell me then I’ve no other choice. Please …’ She pauses. ‘Are you being bullied?’

  ‘No, it’s nothing like that,’ I reply, feeling trapped from her constant questions. I move away from her and sit down on the sofa. I try to think but she won’t stop talking and asking questions.

  ‘Why won’t you talk to me, Felicity?’ she asks pleadingly.

  ‘Because you’ll hate me,’ I whimper.

  I hang my head, letting the tears flow. After a moment I feel her sitting beside me and putting her arm around me.

  ‘Tell me,’ she whispers.

  But I can’t say anything.

  ‘Is it drugs?’ she asks.

  I shake my head and hear her breathe a sigh of relief.

  ‘Are you pregnant?’

  ‘No.’

  She sits quietly for a moment. ‘Whatever it is, it’s going to be OK’ she promises.

  ‘It’s a girl,’ I blubber.

  ‘A girl?’ Mam asks, confused. ‘Who? What’s happened?’

  ‘It’s Joey, the girl from counselling,’ I continue.

  �
��Joey?’ Mam repeats. ‘I don’t understand; have you two had a row?’

  ‘Sort of,’ I say. I can see her face brightening already.

  ‘But we can fix this,’ she says. ‘What did you fight about?’ She waits, trying to read my face before I even say the words.

  ‘Us,’ I murmur.

  She gives me a puzzled look. My heart is racing. I don’t want to say any more. I don’t know how to say any more. I close my eyes.

  ‘We’re in love,’ I whisper.

  ‘With the same boy?’ she asks, still confused.

  I take a deep breath and look quickly at her, then look away.

  ‘No,’ I whisper, ‘with each other.’

  ‘What?’ she asks, then stops as what I’ve said sinks in. I watch her shocked face until I can’t bear it any longer, then I hang my head again. ‘You and Joey?’ she says, ‘are in love? Like boyfriend and girlfriend?’ Her voice wavers.

  ‘No,’ I say looking up, ‘like girlfriend and girlfriend.’

  She sits in stunned silence. ‘Don’t you like boys?’ she asks quietly.

  ‘No.’

  ‘But … but what about that boy from school and Kevin’s friend Mike and Simon?’

  A shiver runs up my spine and I shake my head. I knew she wouldn’t understand; I knew it wouldn’t help. I start to cry.

  ‘Felicity, it’s all right,’ she says, ‘we all go through these phases.’

  ‘It’s not a phase,’ I say. ‘I’ve always liked girls.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  I nod my head.

  ‘But how do you know?’

  I shrug. ‘I just do.’

  ‘Well, that’s OK.’ She falters. ‘What about Joey?’

  ‘Joey told her family years ago. She’s told all her friends too.’

  ‘I see,’ Mam says. ‘So, how long have you two been together?’ she ventures.

  ‘We haven’t… I don’t want to be a … a … like that. I didn’t want anyone to know so we never did anything. Are you disgusted?’ I ask.

  ‘No, of course not,’ she says. She sits in silence for a moment. ‘I’m glad you told me. I don’t want you to keep things bottled up. I want you to be able to come to me and tell me things. I can help.’