Teach Me Dirty
Page 23
“You’re so good because you have talent.”
“And because I love you.”
“You are quite possibly the most addictive little thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of encountering, I hope you realise that.”
“So don’t let me go.” She smiled the most nervous little smile. “Please.”
“It’s crazy to think this could ever work. One day you’ll outgrow me and wonder what you were ever thinking.”
“Don’t count on that.”
“I am counting on that.”
“So, what happens now?” She took a breath. “Please don’t say we’ll just be friends again, and you’ll just be my teacher. Please don’t say that.”
“I’ll never say that, because I’m past lying to myself. I’m past trying to walk an impossible line.”
“What, then?” she said. “We’ll really be real? We’ll be together?”
“Until you say you don’t want me anymore.”
“I’ll never say that.” And her eyes were honest, they were so honest.
I cleared my throat. “There’s one condition, and it’s a big one. I won’t ever lie to you and I’d really like you to show me the same courtesy, so if you can’t agree to this and do everything you possibly can do to stay true to it, then say so. You can think about it, you don’t need to answer right now.”
“What’s the condition?”
“I want you to go to university, and I want you to be happy there. And when you’re at university you’ll be a student, and you’ll do all the things students do, and you’ll try your very hardest and you won’t plan your life around me, here. You’ll think of me as little as possible, and then, when you’re done, I’ll be here, but only if that’s what you want.”
She was quiet for long while. “And you’ll wait for me?”
“Yes, I’ll be waiting for you.”
“You promise?”
I smiled. “I promise. I’ll be here, in this same old house, teaching a fresh batch of the same old students, going to the same old places, just like I’ve been doing the entire time you’ve known me.”
“Then I agree to it. I’ll go to university, and I’ll do well, and then I’ll come back for you.”
“If that’s still what you want.”
“If that’s still what I want.”
“Good girl.” I pulled her towards me and she folded like paper, straight into my arms. She wrapped me up in her legs, in her arms, and she laid her head on my shoulder and breathed me in. And I forgot about my mind, and reason, and common sense, and I listened to my heart. And my heart knew Helen’s heart. It told the same story.
It told me I wanted to crawl inside her skin, and be a part of her, and never let her go.
***
I pulled the car into the usual place by the river and turned the engine off.
“I wish I didn’t have to leave.”
“So do I, but I could do without your photo on a milk carton tomorrow morning.”
She screwed up her face. “They haven’t put missing people on milk cartons in like forever.”
“And that, my sweetest Helen, shows my age.”
“I’m sure it was before your time, too. You’re not that old. You’re not all weird and crusty and you don’t smell of wee.”
I smiled. “Give it a few years.”
“I’ll still love you when you smell of wee. I’ll wheel you around in a wheelchair and you can call me nursey, if you like.” Her eyes twinkled.
“The future’s bright.”
She unclipped her seatbelt. “Lizzie will be here in a minute, I’d better go.”
I looked through the window at the picnic bench, and luckily the rain was holding off. “She’s definitely bringing you a coat? I’m sorry I didn’t find your shrug.”
“That’s alright, Sarah bitchface Jennings probably stole it and flushed it down the toilet.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Sarah bitchface Jennings?”
“She is a bitchface.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Take anyone’s word for it, outside her mean girls gang, that is.”
“Does she cause you problems?”
“Is this your teacher head talking?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“She’s caused me problems since I was like five, I can handle it.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m a big girl.”
And she was. There was something different about Helen today, something subtle but undeniable. A new note in her scale.
“Are we safe here?” She looked through the windows, and so did I, and the world looked empty.
“We’re safe enough.”
“Good,” she said, and shifted across the car to me. She took my face in her hands and pressed her soft mouth to mine, and wriggled herself against my lap until I pushed her away by her shoulders.
“Enough of that,” I said. “Or you won’t need to tell Elizabeth you’re no longer a virgin. She’ll make that observation for herself.”
She smirked, and bundled herself out of the car, and she looked so beautiful in her gown that I felt it in my chest.
“Go,” she said. “I’ll be fine here.”
“I can wait. I assume Elizabeth knows about us already?”
She looked a little shifty. “I don’t have to tell her anything else…”
“You trust her?”
“Yes.”
“You trust that I should trust her?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Then I’ll stay until she gets here.”
It didn’t take long. Elizabeth Thomas was a quirky little creature. She appeared in the distance, springing along in big boots and a tiny little tartan skirt that blew in the breeze. She spotted the car and Helen waved to her, and Helen was beaming.
Helen was proud.
And that made me smile.
I waited until Elizabeth was close enough that I could see the spare coat on her arm, and then I started up the engine.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you anywhere?”
Helen shook her head. “I think I’ll stay here awhile. Talk to Lizzie.”
“Ok,” I said. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
She blew me a kiss. “See you on Monday, sir.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t even think about calling me that in the classroom.”
“Why not?” she giggled. “I quite like it.”
“You can quite forget about it.” But I was smiling.
“Ok, sir, if you say so, sir.”
I shook my head to myself and pulled the car away before I got sucked into Helen Palmer for the rest of time.
***
Helen
I was bursting. Properly bursting. As though my heart would explode like one of those candy fountains, and spray unicorns and rainbows and sparkly jewels all over the place.
I managed to keep it together until Mr Roberts’ — Mark’s — car was out of sight, and then I squealed and ran.
I almost knocked Lizzie off her feet, and then I almost strangled her, hugging her so tight that she pretended she was dying.
And then she laughed, and hugged me, too.
“Oh my fucking God,” she said. “Is that for fucking real?! You’ve been with Roberts like all fucking day?”
I nodded. “And he made me breakfast and I slept in his bed, and I’m not a virgin anymore.”
“You fucked him?!”
“Twice. And a half.”
“How is that even possible?”
“Well, I sucked him off. Does that count as a half?”
She smirked. “I guess that counts as a half.”
She handed me the coat from over her arm, and I put it on as she lit up a cigarette. But I was hot, even in the winter air I was hot. I led her to the picnic bench and climbed on up, and I was proud, pointing out the view like this was my spot, my special spot, but she wasn’t all that interested.
“So,” she said. “Was he
good? He’s kind of old, did he come like super quick and start drooling?”
I poked my tongue out. “No, he didn’t come super quick and start drooling.”
She stared at me like I was an alien. “I can’t believe you’ve ditched the big V. I honestly thought it would be Harry doing the honours.”
“I’m so glad it wasn’t.” I closed my eyes and I was smiling and I couldn’t stop.
“Jeez, Hels, look at you. Anyone would think you’d won the bloody lottery or something, not bagged an old teacher.”
“I’d rather this than win the lottery.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m not.” I laughed. “He’s the best thing in the world. Everything I wanted. Everything I thought he’d be. More than I thought he’d be.”
“And now you have to go back to being his little student? How are you gonna pull that off?”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to pull it off. We’re together now, I just have to pretend at school, but outside of it…” I could hardly believe the words. “Outside of it he’s mine. He’s really mine.”
And Lizzie smiled, and she tried so hard for it to be a real smile, I know she did. “That’s so great, Hels. That’s really great.” She pulled me into a hug. “I’m so happy for you.”
“You are? You really are?”
She squeezed me. “I really am.”
But she wasn’t. She looked sad, like I’d poked her in the heart or something. She stared at the river and smoked and kept that smile on her face.
“Are you ok, Lizzie? How are things with Scottie?”
“Good,” she said. “Amazing. I’ll probably see him tomorrow, you know. I think we’re going to hang out and have lots of sex, and he’ll probably fuck me in the ass again. It’ll be hot.”
I smiled. “That’s cool.”
“Yeah, it’s cool.”
“Is your mum home?”
Lizzie stiffened, and she threw her cigarette butt on the floor and lit up another. “No. Probably Monday.”
“Ray having his mates round?”
“Dunno. Probably.”
“You can stay at mine if you like.”
“Thanks, Hels, but Scottie, and you’re with Roberts now and…”
“You’re my best friend, Lizzie, the bestest of the bestests. You can stay over. I’m still going to be here, like all the time. I can’t even see him that much with studying.”
“You’ll see him,” she said. “You’ll see him all the time. These things, they just take over, you know?”
“Not you and Scottie. That hasn’t taken over. Why do you think my thing will be any different?”
She looked away from me. “It just will.”
I rested my head on her shoulder, until she gave in and put her arm around me. “I love you, Lizzie. That’s never going to change. Not ever. We’ll be dorm buddies, and hang out together, and you’ll be my best friend for all time.”
“Promise?” she said.
I gave the stupid finger symbol that she’d made up for me. “I swear, on pain of death, or never having Mr Roberts’ beautiful, beautiful cock inside me ever again for the rest of time, that I, Helen Palmer, will always be your best friend, Lizzie Thomas. Amen.”
And she laughed and handed me her cigarette. “Bestie’s honour?”
“Bestie’s honour.”
She kissed my cheek and gave a funny sigh, and for just a second I thought I saw her wipe a tear away.
“Right, Helen Palmer, you’d better take it from the top and tell me everything. And I mean everything.”
I told her everything.
***
I felt different as I walked through the front door. Like I’d aged twenty years.
Katie came charging out with a handful of chocolate, and half of it was smeared over her face.
“Some of this was yours, you didn’t mind sharing, did you?”
I smiled. “You can have it all.”
She did a little dance. “Yes! Katie for the win!”
I wondered where she even got half of this stuff from.
Mum was in the kitchen, and my heart tickled as I saw her there, stirring up a pot of stew for tea.
“Helen, love, I wondered when you’d be rolling in.”
“I was with Lizzie,” I said, but there was something in my voice, and I couldn’t stop it.
Mum was staring at me, I could feel her staring. And then she hurried past me and shut the door to the kitchen so nobody else could hear her.
“You’ve been with your boyfriend, haven’t you?” she said, and she was smiling. “You can tell me, love.”
And I nodded, I nodded and smiled and then I felt so stupid, like a big girl and a little girl all at once. And there were tears, happy tears. And I giggled and cried and felt so ridiculous that I tried to turn away but she wouldn’t let me.
“Oh, Helen, love, I’m so happy for you. That you met someone. You’re not a little girl anymore, and I know sometimes your dad acts like you are, but that’s only because he’s worried.”
“Thanks, Mum.”
“He seems nice, a really nice lad.”
And I wanted to tell her. I really wanted to tell her. But I couldn’t. I daren’t.
“Come here, love, you’re not too old and grown up for a hug now, are you?”
I wasn’t too old and grown up for a hug at all, and it felt so good, that I held onto her, and my heart was so big and full that it hurt, and I cried. And I think Mum cried, too.
She pulled away and she wiped her eyes. “Look at me,” she laughed. “Silly old fool.”
“I’m so happy, Mum,” I said. “I’ve never been so happy.”
“You want to hold onto that one, Helen. If you’re lucky enough to find someone who makes you feel like that, and loves you for the special, wonderful, unique woman you are, then you want to hold onto that one and never let him go.” She squeezed my arm. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed seeing you smile, and laugh, and telling me things like I’m someone you want to talk to.”
“Of course I want to talk to you, Mum.”
“Then come over here while I stir this stew and tell me all about him, will you?”
I told her everything I could. Everything I dared. Everything about my bursting heart, and how he made me feel inside and all the wonderful things he said to me.
I told her how special I felt when he looked into my eyes, like he could see right inside me, and loved every weird little part of me.
I told her how lovely it felt when he held my hand and kissed my hair.
I told her how right it felt, and how he’d cooked me breakfast, and made me smell the fresh bread.
I even told her how he’d washed my hair in the shower and wrapped me in towels and given me his socks so my feet didn’t get hold.
I only wish I could have told her his name.
Mark
And just like that, Helen Palmer became my everything.
One night in my bed and the girl consumed me. I could feel her all the way through my house, as though the walls themselves had soaked her in. I could see her everywhere I turned, sitting in my shirt at the dining table, holding her knees to her chest on the sofa as she watched the flames in the grate, the tangle of her limbs in my sheets, her hair on my pillow, the soapy softness of her body as I lathered her in the shower.
She’d forced her way through my skin, through all the barbs and the loneliness and the pain, and she’d found me there, cold and numb, and she’d cleansed me.
But I was anything but clean.
I pottered through Sunday with music on loud and the studio doors open wide in spite of the chill, and I painted. I painted as though I’d been purged by fire, purged by the love of a young girl whose sweet little heart beat life into my own.
I was enjoying a late cigarette when my email pinged, and I was smiling long before I clicked to view live. Helen’s pretty face appeared on screen and she looked different, but it was nothing tangible, nothing more than a knowing
twinkle in her eyes, and a confidence, such a beautiful new confidence. She was a picture of radiance in a thin pink dressing gown, hair still shower-damp as she arranged herself on her bed with her laptop to her side. One single weekend had changed her as much as it had changed me, I could feel it, feel the sexual little nymph inside her unfurling and stretching her limbs. She held up her sketchpad to the camera.
And we were there, in abstract. A watercolour interpretation of my stained sheets, pinks and reds and creamy whites. Human, and stark, and beautiful, in exactly the way Helen’s beautiful creative soul interprets the world.
“It’s called ‘First’.”
I opened the chat box.
It’s beautiful.
She smiled at the message ping.
“I hoped you’d be there. Do you like it?”
It’s perfect. I love it.
“And I love you.” She leaned towards the camera, her voice a conspiratorial whisper, animated and irresistible. “I can’t believe I can say it, and it’s real. It’s all real.” She took a long, slow breath. “I feel so different. Like everything’s different. I’m different.” She dropped the sketchpad at her side and shifted onto her knees, and the fabric of her robe fell open, just enough to see the promise of her soft breasts. “I can still feel you, inside me… I feel like you’re still there, like you never left… and I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about you, about how you felt…” A flash of nervousness swept across her face. “Maybe I shouldn’t say, maybe you don’t…”
It was so easy to type the words.
Always say it.
And I do.
“You feel it, too?”
I feel everything.
She sighed in relief. “I feel like I might burst, like my heart might explode, like they could cut me and I’d bleed you, because you’re all the way inside. And I want to touch you, and feel you, and I want to do everything there is to do, and I want to do it all with you. And then I want to paint it all, and bring it to life and preserve it for all time, so that one day people will look at my paintings and they’ll say she knew love, and that man, that incredible man, he took her heart to the stars and she flew so high she never came down.” She smiled. “I don’t think I’ll ever come down…”