I squealed with laughter along with most of the hall. Bill White’s grin vanished altogether at the mention of ‘blow job’. When the noise had died down a little Hayley carried on; there would be no quieting her now, not after the confidence boost she’d got by managing to get ‘post-party blow job’ out without stammering.
Bill White started to move, but from the other end of the hall he had to squeeze past the hormone- and alcohol-infused bodies of nearly a hundred and fifty teenagers to get near us, which allowed Hayley to carry on.
‘Life for people like you, James, is so easy and so … so … so pleasant. Nobody ever rattles your cage or ruffles your feathers. But for us lesser mortals life is never so sweet or so easy. You’ve no idea how hard it is to … to muster up the energy every morning to drag yourself into school only to know you’re going to be abused and made fun of all the time. Maybe to … to … tonight you and everyone else can understand, ju … ju … just for a moment what it’s like to be me. To … to … to be an outcast, to be taunted, to be unloved.’
The laughter in the hall died down, and a strange silence descended upon the crowd as Hayley stood and stared around us. Her eyes filled with tears and she tossed the microphone to a shocked Bill White, who’d managed to squeeze through the teenage throng. She pushed past him, and the crowd of bodies parting like the Red Sea to let her out.
As she neared the exit some kids began to clap and soon the whole hall filled with spontaneous cheers and whoops. A watershed moment for Hayley and in a way for me too. I followed my friend outside, defiantly glaring at Lyndsay Crowther as I left.
Hayley had grown used to receiving stares and comments due to her weight so now she didn’t even notice the stares and comments she received due to her beauty. She remained a little uncomfortable and self-conscious and I doubted that would ever leave her, which, in my opinion, could only be a good thing. The speech therapy eventually allowed her to conquer even the letter ‘T’. She still had the occasional lapse, notably when she got very drunk, but nobody except me ever noticed.
My stock rose slightly on the coat-tails of my friend’s metamorphosis and, although I became tolerated rather than embraced, it made my final year at school bearable. I wouldn’t be rushing back to any school reunions any time soon, but then neither would Hayley.
‘So, what was he doing in your office?’ I asked, desperate to know the juicy details.
‘He had a meeting with David Ross, our family law guy. He’s getting divorced.’
‘No way?’
‘Yeah way, he caught his wife in bed with someone, a builder, I think.’
‘Can you believe it? James Cochrane, Green Park High’s epitome of cool, loses out to Bob the Builder. How’d you find out? Isn’t it all supposed to be confidential when you come and see a lawyer? Attorney-client privilege?’
‘Well, yes, but I can find stuff out, especially as I’m doing a bit of family law just now, so I have access and I couldn’t not tell you.’
‘But they don’t know you know him?’
Hayley giggled and shook her head. ‘No and I’ll keep it that way and just make sure I’m out of sight if he ever comes in.’
I couldn’t help but ask, ‘What’s he look like now?’
Hayley laughed. ‘He’s still gorgeous. He’s put on a bit of weight but, given how skinny he used to be, that’s no bad thing. He still walks like a panther, which is weird, and he works for the BBC now. I’m not sure what he does there – his file says “Technical Support” but that could mean anything. I’m not sure how much money he makes, but he didn’t look flash or anything.’
‘He made your life such a nightmare with that drawing.’
Hayley sipped some wine and nodded. ‘Yeah, but my life had already hit rock bottom and, to be honest, in a weird way it helped. When I started to lose weight, I used the memory of that drawing to help me keep it off and it stopped me eating junk. It still does, actually. In fact, I wish I had a copy of it now. I could stick it on my fridge as a deterrent. Besides, I got a pretty good revenge on him.’
‘He never came back to school after the summer break, did he?’
‘No. I wondered about that – you know, if it had anything to do with me or if he’d planned to leave anyway?’
‘We’ll probably never know.’
Hayley tipped the remaining wine into our glasses. ‘Anyway, enough of Mr Cochrane, and I know I shouldn’t be encouraging you, but what are we going to do about your dead boyfriend?’
‘He’s not my boyfriend, and he’s not dead – well, not now, he isn’t.’
‘Whatever, we need a plan.’
‘A man-plan?’
‘A dead-man-plan.’
Chapter 13
Hayley’s suggestion that I drop in on Nathan when passing his house and say, ‘I thought I’d stop by just to make sure you’re okay,’ probably wouldn’t be believed any better than my hospital excuse of, ‘I just thought I’d say hello.’
I couldn’t be sure how Nathan would react to me turning up on his doorstep but once I decided to act on something I just kind of did it. The next evening, I decided to carry out my plan and had illogically become a little pissed off with him as I hadn’t realised he lived in such a dodgy area, which I’d have had little excuse to be driving through otherwise. To top it off, the rain had been hammering down for most of the evening.
You’re going to get soaked on this fool’s errand, my inner self warned.
‘Thanks for that, and what’s a fool’s errand when it’s at home exactly?’
Something from Shakespeare probably, but you’re going to get wet; you shouldn’t have come.
‘But Hayley said to “strike while the iron is hot”.’
She’s not out here risking rape and death in the rain, though, is she?
‘Can you see a parking place anywhere?’
No, too many double yellows. Maybe you should just go home.
‘Not now that I’ve come this far.’
It’s only a few miles.
‘Yeah, mentally, not the actual distance, you numpty.’
Don’t call me a numpty. Look, there’s someone leaving; quick, get the space.
‘I see it.’
Hurry up, you silly cow; someone else will get it.
‘Don’t call me a cow.’
I won’t call you a cow if you don’t call me a numpty.
‘Deal. You need to shut up now – I’m going in.’
Good luck.
‘Thanks, I think.’
I got out of my black car (what other colour would I have?), grabbed my bags and coat and squinted at the intercom on the wall outside the door. It had grown very dark and water had started to drip down the back of my neck, making me shiver. I pressed the button beside his name and waited. No response. Maybe he’d gone out, which would be bloody typical after all the effort I’d gone to. I pressed again, keeping my finger on the buzzer. Eventually a voice said, ‘Hello?’
About bloody time. ‘Hi, Nathan, it’s Kat, can I come up?’
Surprisingly he didn’t say a word and pressed the buzzer to open the door. I trudged up the stairs leaving wet footprints all the way. He opened the front door and I bustled in, not waiting for an invitation. I felt annoyed at being soaked so I shook some rain from my hair.
‘Jeez, it’s pissing down. I wouldn’t have come if I’d known it was going to rain like that. Also, I didn’t realise you lived in Dumbiedykes.’ I dumped the three full Sainsbury’s plastic carrier bags onto the floor as the plastic handles were digging into my skin.
‘I didn’t know you were coming, and actually I don’t think I ever said where I lived. Finally, I don’t live in Dumbiedykes, I live in Holyrood.’
I shrugged off my black coat and looked for somewhere to hang it. There were no pegs or cupboards or anywhere obviously designated for coats, so I folded it over once and dropped it in a neat pile on the floor.
I noticed Nathan staring at it, probably wondering what it would do to the carpe
t, but that was what he got for not having any hooks.
‘Holyrood? Nah, don’t think so – if it quacks like a duck, walks like a duck and tastes great with plum sauce, it’s a bloody duck.’ I had to admit most of our conversations so far had been a little strange, but then much of my life felt like that.
‘It’s definitely not Dumbiedykes, Kat.’
‘Yeah, well, we’ll need to agree to differ on that. I didn’t want to park my car outside in case it got stolen.’
‘What did you do, then?’
‘Well, in the end I had to bloody park it outside your block, didn’t I? Besides, I couldn’t lug these bags about. They’re too heavy.’
I watched as he rubbed his hand across his face. He asked, quite reasonably, ‘What are you doing here?’
I looked carefully at him. ‘You’re tired.’
‘I just woke up.’
‘If you’ve just woken up you shouldn’t look tired. I think maybe you left hospital too soon. Also the issues with your wife and kids are probably taking their toll on you.’
‘I didn’t know you were a doctor and a psychiatrist. Anyway, I’ve been out of hospital for ages now.’
‘I’ve had enough medical training to know you should have stayed recuperating for longer and any stress will make it worse, regardless of how long you’ve been home.’
‘Do you need medical training to work with dead people?’
‘You do actually, but I didn’t start out in the morgue. I trained as a nurse.’
‘What happened?’
I didn’t want to have that conversation right now. I picked the bags up. ‘I’ll tell you later. Where’s your kitchen?’
He pointed to a closed door opposite where we were standing. I staggered down the hall, noticing he didn’t offer to help. I pushed the kitchen door open with my hip. Pleasantly surprised to find a large and modern kitchen, I tipped out the bags onto a worktop and opened the fridge. It was filthy.
‘Your fridge needs cleaning. It’s really dirty.’
‘I’m only at number fourteen on my list. Cleaning the fridge is number twenty-four. I kind of hoped I’d get to it by next week.’
I didn’t understand what he’d said so I popped my head around the kitchen door and noticed he hadn’t moved from the front door. Would he just stand there all night? ‘What did you say?’
‘Nothing important, I just haven’t had a chance to go to the supermarket and, to be honest, I’ve been a bit nervous about going to Tesco.’
‘Why Tesco?’
‘Well, I’d been going there when … my accident happened.’
‘Is it just Tesco supermarkets you’ve got a phobia about?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, if you’re going to pick one I’d suggest Waitrose. It’s expensive and full of posh folk. The one near me has even got a security guard on the fruit and veg.’
‘Is the stuff that good?’
‘Nah, it’s just that across the road is a mental health day unit and some of the patients like to wander in and lick the tomatoes.’
‘Why?’
‘How would I know?’
‘Anyway, I think it’s just Tesco.’
‘Good, as all the stuff I brought is from Sainsbury’s. Go and sit down before you fall down, and I’ll bring you a drink.’ I knew he’d be wondering why I’d turned up and probably how I’d acquired his address. The former I couldn’t be sure about myself, the latter I’d pulled from the computer. I tipped a large bag of crisps into a salad bowl and poured two glasses of wine and carried the whole lot into the living room. Nathan flipped off the TV just as I entered. I dumped the crisps onto a small side table.
‘What were you watching?’
‘Nothing, I just had it on for company.’
‘That’s sad.’ I handed him a glass. ‘Well, now you’ve got me for company, so we can talk.’
‘We’re not very good at that, or at least we weren’t in the hospital.’
I took a huge gulp of wine and relaxed. I waited for him to do the same. ‘That’s better.’ I put my glass down on the table. ‘Now we can have a proper chat.’
‘Okay, I’ll start. Why are you here?’
‘You need some company …’ I nodded at the now blank TV screen ‘… and my BFFF Hayley suggested I come and see you.’
‘BFFF?’
‘Best Female Friend Forever.’
‘Oh, right, well, that’s nice of her. I’d fallen asleep.’
‘She said you’d be lonely.’
‘Is your friend psychic?’
‘I don’t think so. She used to be very fat, now she’s very beautiful. I always thought she was beautiful even when she was a size gazillion. She pretty much lives on wine and rice now.’
‘That sounds like a fun diet.’
‘I was exaggerating.’
‘I did get that.’
‘Oh … okay. Anyway, she’s right; you are lonely.’
‘Am I?’
‘Absolutely. Lonely people sleep a lot. So do teenagers and cats.’
‘What about lonely cats?’
I ignored his comment. ‘When’s your wife due back?’ I quickly scanned the flat in case she happened to be lurking in another room. I really should have checked before turning up unannounced.
‘Not today anyway – Sunday maybe – why?’
Phew, thank God for that. ‘Just wondering; I don’t want her getting the wrong idea about us.’
‘Us?’
‘We’re not a couple.’
‘I never thought we were.’
‘I’m not a lesbian either.’
‘I never said you were.’
‘Did you think it, when I talked about my friend being beautiful?’
‘Err, no, I can honestly say your sexuality hadn’t crossed my mind.’
‘My sexual orientation, not my sexuality. Because I dress differently some people naturally assume I’m a lesbian.’
‘I don’t know much about lesbians.’
‘Neither do I, so that’s something we’ve got in common already. Another thing – you should have stayed longer at the hospital today, then I wouldn’t have had to come out here in the rain, risk getting raped, and wouldn’t have had to spend sixty quid in Sainsbury’s.’
‘I’ll give you the money—’
‘I didn’t ask for any money.’
Nathan sighed. ‘Okay, I won’t give you any.’
I refilled my glass and munched some crisps. ‘I feel a bit drunk now, but that’s okay. I trust you not to take advantage of me now that you know I’m not a lesbian.’
‘That’s nice, I think.’
‘Now, why don’t you tell me why you’re so lonely?’
‘My wife and kids are in London.’
‘That’s not what I mean. Even if they were all here you’d still be lonely.’
‘Would I? I’m usually quite happy with my own company.’
‘That’s what lonely people say.’
‘Is it?’
‘Yep, all the time. What happened with you and your wife?’
Nathan laughed; it lit up his face. ‘Where do you want me to start?’
‘How old are you?’
He frowned.
‘Don’t frown. It makes you look old.’
‘I’m thirty-five.’
‘Oh, you are old. What music do you have on your … phone or … maybe iPod?’
‘I don’t have an iPod, and my phone I only really use for calls.’
‘Oh, dear, that’s positively dinosauric. How do you listen to music, then?’
‘Dinosauric?’
‘Yeah, as in “being a dinosaur”.’
‘Oh, right, well, I’ve got some CDs I play in the car and I’ve got some music files on my laptop.’
‘What was the last CD or song you bought?’
‘Err, I can’t remember … maybe something by One Direction.’
‘Jesus. Are you a fifteen-year-old girl in disguise?’
‘
I don’t think so. I guess that’s not very cool, is it? What should I be listening to? What do you like?’
‘I’m not really into all the dark music Goths normally like – it’s too depressing. I recently downloaded some tropical house.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is. It sounds like something you might find at the Botanic Gardens.’
‘You’re hopeless.’
‘Obviously I’m too uncool for all that. How old are you, Kat?’
‘You shouldn’t ever ask a girl her age.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s rude, but if you must know I’m twenty-nine, thirty this year on the twelfth of November if you want to get me a birthday present.’
‘What would you like?’
‘You can surprise me.’
‘This is another strange conversation.’
‘That’s because we don’t know each other very well. Let’s change that – tell me what happened with your wife.’
He frowned again, noticed me watching and put on a pretend smile instead. ‘I don’t really know.’
‘People that say, “I don’t really know” always know. So, come on, tell me; I’m a good listener.’
‘We started out okay. We used to party a lot and—’
‘Why did you ask her out?’
‘Err, I fancied her, I think.’
‘You think? Has your accident affected your memory?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘How old were you?’
‘Twenty-three, nearly twenty-four. Laura had just turned nineteen.’
‘What did she see in you?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Yeah, I didn’t phrase that well – I meant did she fancy you too?’
Nathan laughed, which made me smile. ‘I think so, I assume so, we were all over each other all the time we—’
‘Spare me the details – I get the picture. Where did you meet?’
‘At a party in a friend’s flat in London. This gorgeous girl kept making eye contact with me and I couldn’t believe she liked me. I suppose you’d describe it as a whirlwind romance. We started going out and saw each other every day – it was really intense. The first time I met her parents I had to tell them their darling daughter was three months pregnant and we were going to get married.’
The Second Life of Nathan Jones Page 10