The Deepest Cut

by Natalie Flynn

  ‘Does he always snore like that?’ Polly was cupping her mug and blowing on the steam that was rising from the top. Her hair was hiding half of her face but she was pretty – really, really pretty. I liked her a lot. She was the first girl I’d liked. I wondered how I’d not noticed her at school.

  ‘What?’ She asked. She was still cupping her mug, her head didn’t move, and neither did her eyes. ‘Stop watching me, you freak.’ She turned her eyes a little bit towards me and I saw that twinkle again.

  I couldn’t be happy about Polly though, or excited about what might happen with her. Not while Jake was heartbroken. That’d be the last thing he’d want to hear, me banging on about Polly when he was devastated about Kelly.

  Plus, I shouldn’t have gone upstairs with Polly. I should have kept an eye on Jake and Kelly. Made sure they stayed together.

  ‘What you thinking about?’ Polly asked, but I didn’t want to tell her so I just shook my head.

  ‘Tell me,’ she said.

  I twisted around and put my feet up on the sofa. ‘If I’d stayed with him tonight, I could have made sure Kelly stayed too, then she wouldn’t have gone off with that dickhead, and none of this would have happened,’ I said.

  She raised her eyebrows above the mug as she took a sip. ‘How did you draw that conclusion?’ She asked.

  ‘I just did,’ I said. ‘It’s true, though.’

  ‘Not really, sometimes shit just happens,’ she said. ‘Some things are way out of your control. Like the fact Kelly is a slapper …’

  ‘I just don’t want to see him get hurt,’ I said. He rolled over to face the back of the sofa.

  ‘You two are really close, aren’t you?’ She put her mug down and turned to face me. ‘Like bromance close?’

  ‘He’s family,’ I said.

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I’ve seen him pretty much every day of my life since nursery. My mum worked, Debbie picked us up from school every day. We still sort of do it now, come back here every day, except Debbie doesn’t pick us up anymore.’

  ‘That’s really close. I wish I had a friend like that,’ she said, looking down.

  ‘Since my mum died, I kind of sort of live here anyway because my dad’s a massive wanker,’ I said. ‘Debbie’s like my mum now, she’s looking after me.’

  ‘When did your mum die?’ She asked and it took me aback. Nobody had ever been so upfront about it before; they always do that whole sorry, avoid the subject thing – but Polly, she actually wanted to know about it.

  ‘Two years ago, in a car crash. She walked in on my dad shagging another woman, and got in the car to drive to the coast to clear her head or something. There was an accident on the way,’ I said. I had to take a deep breath. It was the first time I’d said it out loud.

  Polly put her hand on mine. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

  ‘My dad is still with the woman now,’ I said.

  Her face screwed up like she was in pain. ‘No wonder you practically live here. That’s so fucked up, Adam.’

  ‘And Jake was there for me through it all. He held my hand all through Mum’s funeral, he fronted up to my dad when he found out about that woman Jackie. He’s looked after me through it all. Now do you see why I’m gutted I couldn’t stop it happening tonight?’ I asked her. I took my hand away and straightened up.

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘But you just got to do everything you can to be there for him now. That’s all you can do,’ she said. She leant forwards. For a minute, I thought she was going to kiss me. I pulled back, but all she did was grab my tea from the coffee table and hand it to me. ‘Drink,’ she said. ‘Drink to life being a bitch and there being fuck all you can do about it.’ She smiled and all I could look at was that twinkle in her eye.

  Polly and I woke the next morning to the sound of Jake heaving his guts up.

  ‘Eugh,’ Polly said, screwing her face up and turning away.

  I jumped up from where I’d been asleep on the floor and over to him to make sure he was getting it all in the bucket.

  ‘Water,’ he gasped.

  ‘On it,’ Polly said, running to the kitchen.

  When Jake caught his breath, he looked at me, his eyes bloodshot. ‘I feel like I’ve been run over by a stampede of elephants,’ he said, then flopped back onto the sofa.

  ‘Here, sip this,’ Polly said.

  I took the water off her and handed it to him. He gulped it down.

  ‘Bad move, that’s gonna come straight back up again,’ I said.

  ‘It’s cool, man, I’m going back to sleep,’ he said. He put the duvet over his head and that was that.

  ‘I’d better get back,’ Polly said. She was looking at her phone. ‘Ed’s been trying to call me for about an hour. He’s probably just realised I’m gone.’

  ‘Didn’t you text him last night?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘What time is it?’ I asked.

  ‘Ten past eight,’ she said.

  ‘You going to be OK?’ I looked at Jake. I couldn’t really leave him to walk Polly home.

  ‘Go on.’ Debbie appeared at the living room door in her dressing gown. ‘Walk her home, I’ll keep an eye on the casualty,’ she said.

  ‘Thanks, Deb,’ I said.

  ‘Hang on, though, you can’t go home like that, Polly.’ Debbie was looking at Polly’s tiny cheerleader’s skirt. ‘Let me get you some joggers or something.’

  ‘Ads,’ Jake’s voice came out from under the duvet. ‘Do me a favour, get me a bacon sandwich from the café on your way back?’

  I looked at Debbie, who rolled her eyes, shook her head, and tutted as she disappeared up the stairs.

  ‘Did you two shag?’ Jake asked, his head appearing. ‘You best not have while I was in the room,’

  ‘Come on,’ I said, ushering Polly out the living room door. I gave Jake an evil look as I followed her.

  ‘Don’t forget my sandwich,’ he said.

  On the way back from Polly’s I’d tried calling Nathan, but it was ringing out, then going through to voicemail.

  I kept trying through the morning, kept texting him. He was reading my messages and not replying. I was getting more and more wound up with him as the day went on.

  Around the afternoon, he’d added three new friends on Facebook: Danny, Sarah, and Lucy. I checked to see if he still had Megan on there, but he didn’t. I sent her a message to see if she’d heard from him. She read it and didn’t reply.

  I was confused about all of it. I wanted to talk to Jake about it and see what he thought, but he’d not got out from under his duvet all day and was refusing to speak to either Debbie or me unless it was to ask for food.

  Right before I went to bed, I tried Nathan again – still no answer. I didn’t have a clue what I should do the next day when I saw him at school. Ignore him, shout at him, or punch him in the face?

  Just as I was falling asleep in Jake’s bed, I got a text from Polly:

  Ed went mental at me for fucking off, he was so vexed and wouldn’t shut up till I told him where I was. Said we looked after Jake. He thinks we’re shagging. Even though I’ve told him to go fuck himself, he’s gunning for you, I’m really sorry – just thought I’d warn you. xxx

  I locked my phone and threw it on the floor. I lay there for ages, wondering how one party could mess everything up. It was completely insane. I looked out the window and prayed so hard for a snow day, even though it was so clear I could see the moon. I was dreading going into school the next day like you wouldn’t believe.

  Nine

  We were sitting in a circle in the therapy room. Josie was opposite, staring at me intensely. Like a maniac. I wanted to tell her to do one, to stop it. To look at someone else. She was getting on my nerves. Every time I looked up, she was still looking.

  I gave her the filthiest look I could, and turned my attention back to the lady doing our group therapy that morning.

  Group therapy was the only time of day you’d be a hund
red per cent sure you were in the loony bin. Once they’d had their regular morning debate on whether or not today would be the day I’d start talking again, we had to state our goals for the day. That was my favourite bit. I sat there, totally silent, obviously, and listened to how outrageous the rest of them actually were.

  Today’s goals were, as follows:

  Blake: To find the key to the stationery cupboard, because that was the doorway to the actual Narnia. Fact. (Despite Caitlin screaming in his face that it was all lies.)

  Caitlin: To prove Blake wrong, find her pink hairband that she’s sure Josie stole off her, and to try and get me to start talking.

  Josie: Nothing. Fuck us all. We’re all idiots. She hates the world.

  We talked about what we’d had for breakfast and Caitlin grassed up Josie for giving hers to Blake when nobody was looking. Josie told Caitlin she was a little bitch, and Caitlin got up and went to smack Josie, but Josie caught Caitlin’s arm and twisted it round her back. The screaming was mental. I think my ear drum might have burst. In the end, Caitlin was taken back to her room by one of the nurses and we were dismissed.

  In the corridor, Josie grabbed my arm. ‘Adam,’ she said.

  I pulled my arm out of her grip in a way that told her to get off and leave me alone. I was still angry with her for grassing me up. I was angry with myself, too. I shouldn’t have trusted her.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m really sorry.’ She pulled her jumper sleeve up to her mouth and started chewing on it.

  I didn’t care if she was sorry. I wanted to get back to my room. I wanted to carry on writing stuff down for David. Even though I’d written down what had happened at the Christmas party, I wasn’t feeling too bad. I was relieved that writing it all down hadn’t brought back any of the panic and nightmares. I had the numb feeling, but numb I could deal with. Numb wasn’t sitting bolt upright at 3 a.m. after the worst nightmare in the world, sweating and wondering if I was going to throw up.

  ‘Hate to break up the party,’ Damian said. ‘I need you.’ He pointed at me and took me away from Josie. I could have kissed him; I was so grateful.

  He sniffed my hair, lifted my arm up, and sniffed my armpit then stepped away. He screwed up his face but was sort of smiling at the same time.

  ‘You might want to go down and freshen yourself up a bit,’ he said.

  If I had the capability to feel anything, I’m sure offended would have been at the top of the list.

  ‘You’ve got a very pretty girl waiting in there for you,’ he winked and used his head to gesture towards the door behind him which was the Visitors’ Room. ‘One I’m pretty certain you wouldn’t want thinking that you’ve lost the ability to wash, if you know what I mean?’

  Polly.

  I ran and skidded down the corridor into my room, sprayed some deodorant, brushed my teeth and skidded back so fast, with my heart racing the whole time.

  ‘And there was me thinking you were emotionally detached from the world,’ Damian said as I got back to where he was waiting for me. ‘She must be someone special, eh? Go on, then.’ He smiled and patted me on the back as I opened the door.

  Polly was sitting on one of the old sofas, coat still on, and hunched over defensively.

  I stopped by the door. She looked up at me from under the hood of her parka. She didn’t smile, she didn’t wave, she didn’t say hello. She just looked at me. We stayed like that, staring at each other, for what seemed like a lifetime until the door opened and Damian walked in.

  ‘You’re still being supervised,’ he whispered in my ear.

  My shoulders sunk down low, along with my heart. I knew Polly would get all defensive and stroppy if someone else was there with us. She wouldn’t be able to say what she wanted to; but then, of all the nurses, I was glad it was Damian and not one of the others.

  ‘Well, go and sit down then,’ he said, almost pushing me towards her.

  I wobbled across the room and sat on the sofa opposite her.

  ‘You’re really not talking?’ She asked.

  In between us was a table with tea and little packets of biscuits on. She had already poured herself a cup, but the cup meant for me was empty.

  ‘So we do what, exactly, just sit here in silence and look at each other?’

  I couldn’t even begin to tell you how I felt seeing her, because I didn’t know, all I knew was that I couldn’t take my eyes off her. It was sort of like when you meet someone famous. They don’t seem real and you’re completely fascinated by them.

  ‘Can I ask you a question?’ She asked Damian, who had plonked himself on a chair in the corner and was reading a newspaper.

  ‘Sure thing,’ he said, putting his paper down and coming over.

  ‘What can I do? I mean, I’m here, yeah, but I’m way out of my depth, I haven’t got a clue what I’m supposed to do, or say, or what.’

  ‘I think it might be enough for Adam just to know that you cared enough to come,’ Damian said. He rubbed Polly’s shoulder and left us to it.

  ‘I don’t know why I’m here,’ she said. She picked up a pack of bourbons off the table and opened them aggressively. ‘I mean, my mum and dad went mental the day you ended up in hospital. They said that enough was enough, and that what happened to Jake had nothing to do with me, and it wasn’t my responsibility to make you better or anything.’ She dunked the bourbon in her mug of tea and put it in her mouth, sucking on it before shoving it in.

  ‘I wasn’t even there that night, Adam. I wasn’t even there. I was in the bloody Lake District with my stupid bloody family,’ she said with her mouth full.

  I sat back and crossed my arms. I let her carry on saying what she needed to say. It wasn’t like I could contribute, or argue, or anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Damian was only pretending to read his paper; he hadn’t turned the page in ages, which meant he was listening to her.

  ‘Your doctor told me that you’ve been writing down what happened?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Have you got any paper?’ She asked Damian. ‘And a pen?’ She turned to me. ‘We can talk that way,’ she said.

  Damian looked concerned. ‘I can’t leave Adam to go and get you any, I’m afraid,’ he said.

  Polly sat back and did a really aggravated sigh. ‘I don’t know what I’m meant to do. I have no idea. This is just too much to take in, too much, Ads.’ She leant forwards, and put her face in her hands, and I knew she was crying.

  I wanted to get up and put my arm around her, to let her cry on my shoulder, but I couldn’t. It worked in the same way that not talking did. I wanted to do it, to go to her, but there was some sort of invisible force stopping me. The intention was there, but something had happened in the wiring of my brain which meant the intention and the action just wouldn’t marry up.

  When she stopped crying and looked up, I couldn’t decide if she was angry or scared. ‘Have you got any idea what it was like to find you that day?’ She asked. ‘On the landing?’ She took a deep breath. ‘I thought you were dead,’ she said, and then the crying got worse. Damian came over with a box of tissues and sat next to her. I watched him comfort her. He rubbed her back and helped her to sip her tea.

  What I felt, I’m sure, was guilt. I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see her, but I opened them again quickly because I didn’t want to not see.

  I’m sorry. That was all I wanted to say. Three words. Three syllables. So much meaning.

  It wouldn’t come out.

  When she’d calmed down, she sat up straight and took something out of her pocket. It was a small, white envelope with my name on it.

  ‘I knew this would happen. I knew I’d get all emotional and not be able to handle it, so I wrote it all down instead,’ she said. She put the envelope on the table. ‘I don’t want you to read it now. Read it later when I’m gone.’

  She got up and zipped up her parka.

  I wanted to get up and hug her and not let go, but my body wouldn’t move.

&nb
sp; Damian’s face was full of pity, but I wasn’t sure if it was for me, or for her, or maybe for us both.

  ‘I’ll see you soon,’ she said, and her voice was shaking with tears again.

  She left the room without looking back. I swallowed hard because I had that pain you get in the back of your throat when you’re about to start crying. That threw me, that sudden feeling of emotion. It was alien to me. I’d stopped being able to feel anything weeks ago.

  Damian sat down opposite me. ‘It was a thought that had occurred to me, too, about trying to get you to communicate by writing things down, but David said no,’ he said. ‘He said he wanted to focus on you telling him what happened first.’

  I nodded. I was glad because I thought that if I had to start talking to people, even if it was by writing stuff down, it would confuse my brain even more. The less I had to think about, the better.

  Damian picked up the envelope Polly had left on the table. ‘I’m going to have to let David read this first,’ he said. ‘In the meantime, why don’t you go and chill out with the others in the rec room? I’ll get him to bring it along to you later.’ We stood up and walked towards the door.

  I didn’t want to hang out with the others. I wanted to go back to my room and sleep and think about Polly but because I was under supervision still, and Damian was the one supervising, I didn’t have a choice.

  I was sitting in the corner of the rec room watching Caitlin and Blake have a full-blown argument about who got to be which colour counter in Connect Four.

  David caught my eye and in his hand was Polly’s letter. We walked back to my room. I sat on my bed and he pulled up a chair.

  ‘I think you should read it,’ he said holding out the letter. ‘But I’m going to sit here while you do, is that OK?’

  I nodded and took it from him. It had been all I could think about all afternoon, and I’d gone through so many different theories in my head as to what it said. Maybe she didn’t want to know me anymore, and the letter was a goodbye. That was the theory I’d pretty much decided was true, so my hands were shaking as I crossed my legs up on the bed and pulled the paper out of the envelope.