Fierce Fragile Hearts

by Sara Barnard

  After a few moments, she touches my chin, nudging me gently to look back at her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says, quiet. ‘I’m sorry this is the life you have to live. If I could make it better for you, I would.’

  ‘I know,’ I say, and I hear the defeat in my voice, how helpless I sound.

  ‘Think about the money,’ she says. ‘Take the time to be angry, that’s fine. But think about it. OK?’

  Me:

  So. My parents want to give me some money.

  Rosie:

  ??

  Me:

  Long story, but they found out that suing might be an option, even though it’s not, and they want to skip that bit and just give me the money.

  Rosie:

  GOOD!!

  Caddy:

  Eugh!

  Rosie:

  What?

  Caddy:

  What?

  Me:

  This is really helpful so far.

  Caddy:

  You’re not going to take money from them, are you?

  Rosie:

  CADDY.

  Caddy:

  What?

  Rosie:

  Suze, of COURSE you are going to take the money from them. RIGHT?

  Caddy:

  ???? Roz, wtf?

  Me:

  Er.

  Caddy:

  It’s the principle.

  Rosie:

  What is?!

  Caddy:

  Not taking money from terrible people.

  Rosie:

  CADDY, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

  Caddy:

  ?!?!

  Me:

  Um.

  This time, there’s no response, and the ticks that would tell me they’d read my last message don’t appear. I know this means that Rosie has called Caddy, or vice versa, to straighten their own mini-argument out before letting me back into the conversation. I wish they’d carried it on in front of my eyes. It feels weird knowing they’re out there in their separate university bedrooms, talking about me and my shitty life dilemma. I wait for a few minutes.

  Me:

  Still nothing. I curl myself up on my bed and rest my head on my crooked arm, eyes on my phone, trying to fight off a rising resentment. It’s not fair that they get to talk about me like this. It’s not fair that my awful is their discussion topic.

  It’s early evening and I’d decided to ask Caddy and Rosie what they thought about the money – leaving out the details of yesterday’s breakdown entirely – because I’m trying to be better at including them instead of just shutting them out. But this is reminding me why I don’t do that, because they inevitably turn to each other to talk about it. Which feels rubbish.

  I message Matt. Did you know that corgi means ‘dwarf dog’?

  He replies immediately: Did you know that in Istanbul there are stray cats everywhere? In a good way ☺

  Rosie:

  Sorry!

  Caddy:

  Sorry! Back now!

  Me:

  You were talking about me.

  Caddy:

  Rosie needed to yell at me.

  Rosie:

  It’s true, I did.

  Me:

  Rosie:

  Caddy was being sheltered and privileged.

  Caddy:

  All right! God, once was enough.

  Me:

  Cads, your opinion is totally valid. I want to hear it.

  Caddy:

  My principles are a luxury.

  Rosie:

  Well, they are.

  Caddy:

  Go on, then. Say your bit.

  Me:

  I want to hear more about what you think, C.

  Rosie:

  Grahhhh.

  Me:

  Roz, shush. You can talk after. Cads, please? You think I shouldn’t take it?

  Caddy:

  Me:

  Be honest.

  Caddy:

  I wouldn’t take it if it were me.

  Rosie:

  IT IS NOT YOU.

  Caddy:

  OK, BROKEN RECORD.

  Me:

  I feel like I shouldn’t.

  Rosie:

  Why? Because people like Caddy say they wouldn’t?

  Me:

  It feels wrong.

  Rosie:

  Why?

  Me:

  Taking anything from them.

  Rosie:

  Taking it wouldn’t mean you forgave them.

  It wouldn’t make anything that happened OK.

  Me:

  I don’t want to owe them.

  Rosie:

  You won’t owe them. THEY owe YOU, that’s the point.

  Caddy:

  That’s true.

  Me:

  But they can’t ever pay it back, right? So isn’t it a bit … like … I don’t know, cheap, to take money from them?

  Rosie:

  Maybe if you just wanted it for manicures or whatever.

  Me:

  Manicures. Really? That’s where your head went?

  Rosie:

  You know what I mean. But you’re going to use it for rent and stuff, right?

  Me:

  It’s more of a long-term thing. Like … for studying.

  To get my A levels, or do an Access course or something.

  Caddy:

  !!!!!

  Me:

  Just an idea.

  Caddy:

  Amazing! OK, I’ve changed my mind. Take the money.

  Me:

  What I use it for doesn’t change whether it’s right to take it or not, though?

  Rosie:

  I still don’t think ‘right’ or not is relevant for this. But if that’s really bothering you, think of it this way: if it wasn’t for them, you’d already HAVE these qualifications.

  Me:

  I can’t ever know that.

  Rosie:

  I do. You would.

  Caddy:

  I think so, too.

  Me:

  You guys.

  Rosie:

  THEY are the reason you don’t have that stuff. OK? You were literally abused.

  Me:

  My dad thinks I would’ve been a trainwreck anyway.

  Caddy:

  wtf

  Rosie:

  Your dad is a c***

  Censored for Caddy’s sensitive eyes

  Caddy:

  HEY!

  Me:

  Caddy:

  I’m 19. I know the word cock.

  Rosie:

  OH MY GOD.

  Me:

  OH MY GOD.

  Caddy:

  That was a joke. You know I’m joking.

  Rosie:

  Dying.

  Me:

  ACTUALLY DYING.

  Caddy:

  I hate you both.

  Why can’t you let me be funny?

  Rosie:

  ANYWAY. Seriously, Suze. You know that, right?

  Me:

  Yeah …

  Rosie:

  Do you actually?

  Me:

  He might be right though.

  Rosie:

  Nope.

  Caddy:

  Nope.

  Me:

  You guys have to say that.

  Rosie:

  Er, no I don’t. Caddy, maybe.

  Caddy:

  HEY

  Rosie:

  But you KNOW I’d tell you straight. You are not innately a trainwreck.

  Me:

  No?

  Rosie:

  Nope. You’re a bit trainwrecky, yeah.

  Caddy:

  ROZ

  Rosie:

  But there’s CONTEXT. A train can’t help the tracks it’s on, right?

  Me:

  oh my god.

  Rosie:

  Blame your parents for poor track-laying. Think of the money like National Rail fixing the track so the trains can start running properly again.

  Me:
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  Have you been waiting to use that analogy?

  Rosie:

  No, I just thought of it! It’s great though, isn’t it? I should proper be a therapist.

  Caddy:

  Oh my God.

  Me:

  I’m crying, Roz.

  Rosie:

  Oh shit.

  Like … laughing crying?

  Me:

  I can’t tell!

  Caddy:

  Can I just say that I miss you guys so much.

  Me:

  I MISS YOU TOO

  Rosie:

  Me toooooo.

  Me:

  COME HOME AND VISIT. I NEED YOU.

  Rosie:

  Funny you should say that …

  Me:

  What?

  Caddy:

  ☺

  Me:

  WHAT?!?!

  30

  ‘Wrecking Ball’

  Mother Mother

  They’ve been planning it since Christmas, ever since they figured out they both had reading week – like half-term, but for students – at the same time. They’re both coming to Brighton for a few days and they’re bringing Owen, Sam and Tess (Caddy) and Jade (Rosie).

  ‘Can you believe none of them have been to Brighton?’ Caddy says to me when we Skype a couple of days before they all come down. ‘Ever?’

  ‘I’d never been before I moved here,’ I say. ‘It’s not quite the centre of the world.’

  She grins. ‘It’s close enough.’

  I’m working the day they arrive, so I miss them checking off all the usual tourist stops from their list: the beach, the pier, the Pavilion. By the time I meet them all at the Airbnb Owen, Sam and Tess are sharing, everyone’s already two drinks down.

  ‘I better catch up,’ I say, hugging Rosie, who’s sitting on one of the beds next to a dark-haired girl who must be Jade, looking a little awkward. ‘Hi! I’m Suzanne.’

  ‘Hey,’ Jade says, smiling. I’d intended to hug her but she doesn’t stand up, so I restrain myself.

  ‘Welcome to Brighton,’ I say. ‘How was today? Sorry I missed it.’

  ‘Me too,’ Rosie says. She raises her eyebrows at me, then lowers her voice so I have to lean in slightly to hear. ‘You missed some drama.’

  ‘Oh my God! What? Stupid job. Tell me.’

  ‘Haven’t you noticed who’s missing?’ Rosie asks, just as Caddy, who’d greeted me at the door with foundation blobs all over her face, then run off to fix it, comes bounding into the room.

  ‘Why haven’t you got a drink yet, Suze?’ she demands. She’s hyped up, which I’d thought was down to alcohol, but now I notice something in her eyes I’d missed before. The kind of manic edge of someone pretending everything’s OK when it’s not.

  Where’s Kel?

  ‘I only just got here and I was saying hi to Roz,’ I say. ‘And Jade.’ I smile at Jade again, who grins back like I’m amusing her. ‘What are we drinking?’

  ‘Sam’s making mojitos,’ Caddy says. ‘Want one? I’ll get you one.’ She disappears before I can even reply.

  ‘Where’s Kel?’ I ask, swinging back to Rosie.

  ‘Well,’ Rosie says. ‘That’s the thing.’

  It takes her the rest of the next hour to tell me what happened, because she has to do it in the snippets between Caddy, much more flighty than usual, coming into the room and then leaving again almost as quickly. It had started when they all met at Brighton station, Rosie says. Kel was there to greet them, but things were obviously already off between him and Caddy, ‘even though neither of them was acknowledging it. Suze, it was so awkward. I was like, “Cads, want to talk about it?” And she goes, “Talk about what?”’ They’d got fish and chips at the beach and Caddy got her own portion instead of sharing with Kel like normal, and he was obviously annoyed but let it go. Then they’d gone on some of the rides on the pier, and something had happened – Rosie wasn’t sure exactly what, but it seemed to have something to do with not going on the same log flume – and everything had blown up. ‘They were yelling at each other, right there on the pier,’ Rosie says. ‘Can you believe it? The least yell-y people ever. And he stormed off, said that if she wanted space so badly, she could have it. And she didn’t go after him. She just let him leave. And she’s been in this I’m-sofine state ever since. I think she learned it from you.’

  ‘Is it serious?’ I ask. ‘Or just a fight?’

  Rosie shrugs. ‘Who even knows? Ask Cads. You might have more luck getting an answer out of her than I did.’

  I don’t. Caddy is generally pretty easy to read, and tonight she’s radiating Don’t ask. When I go to find her to offer to do her makeup for her, she’s already fully made-up, sitting in the bathroom with Tess.

  ‘Did you do that yourself?’ I ask. ‘It looks great.’

  ‘I did it,’ Tess says from the sink. She glances at me, and I swear she smirks. ‘Thanks.’

  I decide the best thing to do is ignore this, so I put my arm around Caddy and give her a squeeze. For a moment I feel her lean into me, her fingers squeezing down on my arm, but then she stiffens and I let go. ‘Can I do anything?’ I ask.

  ‘We’re good,’ Tess says. ‘We should go soon, don’t you think, Cads?’

  I tell myself, It’s nice that Caddy has a friend who is protective over her. I tell myself, She doesn’t know me. I tell myself, I come out of any story Caddy would tell about me really badly. Of course Tess thinks she hates me.

  I think, Bitch.

  I smile my biggest, warmest, most charming Suze smile and Tess falters, confused. ‘You’re right,’ I say. ‘We should go. Your hair looks really nice like that, by the way.’

  It takes us another hour to actually get out of the Airbnb, across Brighton and into the club. I have this nagging feeling that this night is going to end badly, and that I should go home, but I ignore it. This is my best friends and me, regardless of arguments and boyfriends and new girlfriends and whatever else happens. We’ll be fine once we start dancing and drinking.

  But we’re not. If anything, things actually get worse once we’ve put our coats in the cloakroom, got our drinks and found a space on the dance floor. Caddy seems to be actively avoiding me – I’d think I was being paranoid, but I can tell by Rosie’s face that she’s noticed too – which would be bad enough, but the worst thing is who she’s giving most of her attention to instead.

  Owen.

  Caddy’s not what you’d call a natural flirt; she’s too self-conscious and shy to really pull it off. But tonight, everything that she’s kept down, that’s been simmering under the surface – anger, resentment, attraction – mixes with the alcohol she’s knocking back and spills out of her in brazen, shameless flirting. At Owen. Who laps it up.

  It’s a weird thing, watching someone self-destruct. I’d known it must be upsetting – people had told me as much over the years – but I’d never realized how frustrating it was before. I want to shake her. What are you doing? I want to say. You don’t want to do this.

  I try. I follow her to the toilets and lean against the sink when she washes her hands, trying to force her eyes to meet mine. ‘Kel loves you,’ I say. ‘You’ll figure it out.’

  She doesn’t look at me. She snaps a sheet of paper out of the dispenser and dries her hands, shaking her head. ‘Relationship advice?’ she says. ‘Really?’

  This is probably the first time Caddy has ever felt like this, that dizzying thrill of standing on the edge of sensible, but I know it well. I’d talk to her about it if she’d let me. If she wanted, I’d leave right now, sit with her in the cold until she found her way back to herself. I’d do anything for Caddy. And Kel, for that matter.

  But tonight, she won’t let me. She’ll barely even look at me, and I know why. Because I’m too close, because I know the real her too well. What she wants right now is to not be herself. And don’t I know that feeling as well? I should leave her to it, dance with Rosie and Jade until the night ends, let things run their course.<
br />
  But I can’t not do something. She is my best friend, and I love Kel. He doesn’t deserve this, whatever he said on the pier, and Owen just isn’t worth it anyway.

  We’re all back on the dance floor, Caddy and Tess dancing with their arms around each other, Sam and Jade trying to out-robot each other while Rosie doubles over laughing, when I catch Owen’s eye, hold it for longer than necessary, then smile. He smiles back. Two seconds later, he is by my side. We dance for about half a song before he makes a drinking gesture with his hand, pointing at me, one eyebrow up. I nod, and we head to the bar together.

  He puts his hand on the small of my back as we join the large, confusing queue, leaning his head closer to mine so I can hear him when he says, ‘You look great tonight.’

  I let a wide, flirty grin flash over my face, just for a second. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘What are you drinking?’

  I suggest shots and his face lights up. God, it’s too easy. He gets us both Jägerbombs and we move off slightly to the side of the bar to down them in one. Owen is beaming when we put the glasses back down on the bar, his eyes bright. I know from that look that he’s seconds from leaning down to try to kiss me so I spin quickly on the spot and head back towards the dance floor, holding my hand back for him to take.

  We find the others, all of them still dancing where we’d left them. Owen, his sweaty hand still in mine, pulls me in a slow spin towards him. He’s a better dancer than I’d expected, moving in time with me. When the next song starts he steps closer and I move into him, my face near his collarbone, his mouth against my ear. His hands slide down my back, his thumbs touching my bare skin. I turn so my back is to him and he presses himself against me. I feel his face against my hair, hear him murmur something.

  I close my eyes, smiling as he puts his arms around me, then open them to see Caddy staring directly at me. There’s a look on her face I’ve never seen before. Owen’s hand slides up the light fabric of my top, his fingers grazing my stomach. I hear his voice in my ear: ‘Turn back around.’