Love Your Enemies

by Nicola Barker

  Felicity tried to suppress the impulse to laugh, but finally gave into a throaty chuckle. ‘Janet, I think what you’re saying is untrue. We both know Selina Mitchell, we’ve both known her for years. I was headmistress at Grunty Fen Primary when she was a pupil at the school herself. There has never been anyone in the school whose dignity, discretion and professionalism I have held in higher regard. Just the other day I sat in on her class and assessed her performance. My only advice to her was that I thought her techniques too staid, perhaps a jot unimaginative …’

  Janet interrupted. ‘That’s all well and good, Felicity, but you know what they say, there’s no smoke without fire. She did go away at the end of the sixties, after all. Who knows what sort of habits she picked up then …’

  Felicity’s initial amused indulgence at Janet’s news suddenly evaporated. She snapped, ‘Stop talking such absolute rubbish, Janet. I’d certainly have expected that you of all people would be the last to surrender your credulity to the clutches of vicious and totally unfounded gossip. I don’t want to hear anything more about this subject, and if I do hear anything from a different source I will be forced to presume that it originated with you. Do I make myself clear?’ Janet answered breathlessly in the affirmative and the conversation ended abruptly shortly afterwards.

  Felicity had been headmistress at Grunty Fen Primary for almost thirty years. The time had come and gone for her to retire but she had ignored suggestions from various departments – chiefly from her husband Donald, who was several years into retirement himself – and had carried on giving her all to the young children of the district.

  She took her vocation very seriously. Her main problem was that she couldn’t be convinced that anyone else she knew would be suitable for her job. The ideal candidate would be a woman – she thought that women made the best Heads because they were much more frightening than men – and preferably they would originate from Grunty Fen or the surrounding area. She believed that Fen children had to be taught by people who were familiar with the various interests, problems and subtleties of their character. She knew that Selina Mitchell was keen for promotion. She had been coolly vetted for a favourable reference from Selina herself on several occasions, but nothing had come of it.

  Felicity put her feet up on to her foot-stool, took out her hearing aid, leaned back in her chair and took another bite out of her biscuit. She had resented Janet’s news because she felt that anything bad said about her staff reflected badly on the school and ultimately on herself. She was rather proud and vain but disliked these qualities in other people. Selina, she believed, was far too proud and vain for her own good. She was too closed, not sufficiently free-thinking. Felicity found her distant and arrogant. Selina found Felicity interfering and arrogant. Neither side would bow down to the other. They weren’t destined to be good friends, but Felicity often regretted that they had never even managed to become formal friends.

  She took another sip of tea and decided to call Selina into her office for a serious chat first thing in the morning. She picked up a copy of the People’s Friend and ran her finger down the list of contents, muttering. ‘No smoke without fire, indeed!’

  Selina didn’t dare carry the Dual Balls to school in her teaching bag in case any of the children poked around in it looking for a pencil or a book and came across them. Instead she wore a smart blue blazer with a deep inside pocket in which she carefully placed the Dual Balls before breakfast.

  On arriving at school she went straight into her classroom to enjoy five minutes of quiet contemplation before the start of the day. She was keen to avoid Felicity and other members of staff, who on a Monday morning always seemed to try extra hard to be sociable and community spirited. Selina hated all that ‘bonding’ business. It wasn’t her style. She rarely went out for drinks on a Friday night with her colleagues; even so, she always saw them over the weekend because Grunty Fen and the surrounding areas were so sparsely populated that a trip to the shops usually meant a trip to meet everyone from your past, your present and your future that you were keen to avoid.

  She sat at her desk and put her hand into her inside pocket to feel the Dual Balls. They felt cold and smooth; highly unerotic. She looked around the classroom and thought, ‘I’m so bloody sick of this routine. I’m sick of teaching. I just wish that it was heading somewhere or that something would come of it, but nothing will. I’ve vegetated, stultified.’

  The room smelled clean but of chalk and paper and dust. Her mind turned to Joanna and their conversation at the weekend. This raised a smile. She thought, ‘Of course she’s right. I don’t have any real spirit of adventure.’

  The bell rang and the day began.

  Felicity had popped into the staff room at the beginning of the day to ask Selina into her office for a chat. Unfortunately Selina didn’t materialize so Felicity had to content herself with the idea of meeting her during lunchtime. She checked the wall chart in the staff room to make sure that Selina wasn’t on play or dinner duty.

  It was a hot day. After several hours Selina became uncomfortable in her blazer and took it off so that she could cool down, hanging it carefully over the top of her chair and keeping a firm eye on it. The morning droned on and eventually it was time for lunch.

  All morning she’d had half of her mind on the Dual Balls. A part of her really wanted to fulfil her dare and show Joanna that she was a woman of her word. Another part of her baulked at the idea of using the balls in principle. They were crude and revolting. Secretly she was rather interested to know how they would feel, but only in a silly, inquisitive way that took no account of what was right or for the best.

  As the last child left her classroom Selina made a firm decision. She resolved to go and ‘try on’ the Dual Balls and to try them out for several minutes in the privacy of her classroom at the beginning of her lunch hour. Then, if Joanna asked, she could say in all honesty that she had in fact worn the balls at school in the classroom.

  The day was very still and warm. She opened the top button on her shirt to let the air circulate more freely around her throat then strolled to her chair and put on her blue blazer. It felt heavy and made her skin feel sticky. She felt ridiculously tense and strung-out. Luckily the toilets were close to her classroom. She worried about walking with the Dual Balls in; Joanna hadn’t cleared up that little chestnut during their coffee and éclairs.

  The toilets were empty. She chose one of the two cubicles and locked herself in. She was glad that she had opted to wear a skirt and sheer stockings for easier access.

  Inserting the Dual Balls gave her a feeling of youthful mischievousness, as though she were one of the children in school doing something secretive and wrong like puffing on a cigarette.

  The Dual Balls felt cold, bulky and stupid. She pulled the string that switched them on. In her hyper-sensitive state the buzzing of the Balls seemed like the violent crashing of cymbals. Although the toilets were empty apart from herself, she coughed loudly with embarrassment to try and hide the initial shock of the sound.

  After a few moments of acclimatization Selina rearranged her clothing and stepped out of the cubicle. The balls felt like an inordinately large blue-bottle whizzing around, lost inside her knickers. She took a few experimental steps around by the sinks – where she fastidiously washed her hands – and the Dual Balls stayed firmly in place. She breathed a sigh of relief, then steeled her resolve and nerve as she headed for the door.

  Once out in the corridor, surrounded by screaming, sweaty, excitable, break-enjoying children, Selina was able to relax. She felt less furtive and guilty out in the public sphere. She reached her classroom without misadventure; though her variation on a John Wayne swagger may easily have aroused interest in any but a child’s mind. She pushed open her classroom door and went in.

  Her heart sank. Sitting in the front row of desks, dead centre, was Felicity Barrow.

  Smiling broadly, Felicity said, ‘Oh good, Selina. I was just about to give up my search and return to the
staff room.’

  Selina’s entire body felt stiff and immobile; only the Dual Balls continued on moving naturally inside her. She tried to negotiate the walk to her desk as freely and casually as possible. To distract Felicity’s attention she said, ‘Lovely day isn’t it?’, and pointed towards the window. Felicity turned towards the window and stared out through it at the blue sky. ‘Yes, it is lovely.’

  She was pleased that Selina was trying to be friendly. Selina took these few seconds’ leeway to trot over to her desk and plop herself down on to her hard wooden chair. She noisily cleared her throat so that Felicity’s silent contemplation of the day’s glory wouldn’t emphasize the jubilant buzzing of the Dual Balls. Felicity’s gaze returned to Selina’s face. ‘You’re looking very well, Selina, if I may say so, very bright.’ Selina smiled. ‘I think I’m actually just a bit warm. Perhaps I should take my blazer off.’

  She performed this simple action with as much ‘involved noise’ as possible, concluding with the scraping up of her chair closer to the table. Her hands were shaking slightly, so she took hold of a pencil and tapped out a tiny, slight rhythm with it on the table top.

  Felicity watched these adjustments very closely, then said, ‘You seem unusually tense today, Selina, any particular reason?’

  Selina shrugged. Inside she was boiling with embarrassment and unease but she endeavoured not to let this show. ‘I don’t know, Felicity. I feel all right really, just a bit, I don’t know, a bit frustrated, rudderless …’

  She didn’t really know what she was saying, but after she had said it she felt as though she was talking about sex, as though she was an actress in a dirty blue film. She pinched herself and blinked her eyes, then looked over at Felicity.

  Felicity was still smiling at her. ‘Maybe you’re upset about all that ridiculous gossip that was circulating this weekend?’

  Selina was still recovering from the tingling pain of her self-inflicted pinch. The pain seemed rather arousing, and the discomfort too. She asked automatically, ‘What gossip?’

  Felicity’s cheeks reddened slightly. She had hoped that Selina would have been willing to make this conversation easy and unembarrassing. She cleared her throat and to hide her discomfort adjusted the position of her hearing aid in her ear. ‘Apparently someone has been spreading a rumour about … about your purported use of sexual stimulants during school time.’

  Selina’s face flushed violently and her jaw went slack, ‘I … I don’t know what to say Felicity. What can I say?’

  At that moment in time she felt as though her head was clouding over, clouding up, as though she were in a plane that was going through turbulent clouds. She felt quite willing to admit to everything.

  Whatever doubts had clouded Felicity’s mind evaporated immediately when she saw the strength of Selina’s reaction. She had expected Selina to keep her cool and to utter a cold, cynical, stinging reply. Instead her reply was so unguarded and natural, so loose and out of character, almost intimate, that Felicity could not stop herself from smiling warmly at her. ‘Of course I knew it was untrue. I just thought you should be aware of the kind of things that a couple of nasty people are saying.’

  Selina couldn’t meet Felicity’s gaze. She looked down at her desk and tried to call on an inner reserve of strength. Unfortunately this moment of introspection only re-emphasized in her mind the furtive activities of the Dual Balls. She was so tense that her body had become extremely dynamic and excitable. The hard wooden chair wasn’t helping matters either. She shuddered, and suddenly her brain felt like sherbet.

  The strength of Selina’s reaction made Felicity’s heart twist in sympathy. She bit her lip for a moment and said nervously, ‘Selina, I’m sorry. I didn’t think that this would affect you so badly.’

  Selina felt as though she was on a roller-coaster ride. She said, ‘I feel as though I’m on a roller-coaster ride, Felicity. I don’t know what to say.’

  She was all gaspy and uncontrolled, her insides churning with a sort of ecastatic violence. In the silence of the room she heard herself breathing heavily. Felicity sat quietly, saying nothing.

  After a minute or so Selina began to gasp. She was totally out of control. She threw her head down on the table and shuddered until the shudders turned into enormous, violent, gasping, wracking howls.

  Felicity froze. She had never seen such a forthright display of uninhibited emotion before and from, of all people, Selina Mitchell. She felt a terrible sense of guilt that she should have provoked such a display, but also a sense of pride that Selina should have chosen to share this wild moment of release and abandon with her, Felicity. She stood up and went over to Selina’s side and placed a gentle hand on her back which she moved up and down, up and down, as though comforting a small child or burping a baby.

  Selina felt Felicity’s hand massaging her back but felt too far gone to respond coherently. She just said, ‘Oh God, oh no, oh my!’

  Felicity moved her hand from Selina’s back and grasped hold of one of her hands. She said, ‘Selina, listen to me. This isn’t as bad as it seems to you. It doesn’t affect the respect and regard that I have for your teaching abilities. You are one of my best members of staff, in fact you are my very best member of staff.’

  Selina heard Felicity’s words but their sounds washed over her and made very little sense. She was at the edge of a precipice and in the next moment she was falling, flailing, floating. Her ears tingled as the wind rushed by. She steeled herself for a crash landing, but instead her landing was cushioned by a million feather eiderdowns, each as soft as a poodle’s belly. Everything solidified again.

  Felicity was pleased to note that after a minute or so her piece of encouragement had appeared to get through to Selina. She was calming down. After a while her breathing returned to normal and she raised her head slightly from the desk. Several seconds later she said quietly, ‘Felicity, I feel terrible about this, but it was just out of my control. I feel so embarrassed.’

  Felicity clucked her tongue and shook her head, ‘Don’t be silly, Selina. I know how these things build up. I’m just glad that you were able to let go of all that anguish and to share it with me.’

  Selina felt as though she was floating in the Red Sea, lifted above the water by the sodium chloride, the sea like a big marshmallow. She blinked several times and sat up straight. She noticed that Felicity was still holding her hand. She smiled at Felicity and said, ‘Things have been building up inside me for a long time. I feel so much better now, so buoyant.’

  Felicity gave Selina’s hand one final squeeze and then let go. She said, ‘I know that you are a very controlled person, Selina. I’ve known you for most of your life and you’ve never let your emotions rule your head. I think you very much deserved this opportunity to vent your feelings.’

  Selina was now fully recovered. She felt stupid but also surprisingly smug. She said, ‘I hope you don’t think that this silly outburst will have any bearing on my discipline and dignity before my classes.’ Felicity shook her head. ‘I know that I can always rely on you, Selina. I’m certainly quite positive that you are an indispensable asset to this school.’

  Inside Felicity’s head an idea was turning. It was as though a light had been switched on or the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle snapped into place. She said, ‘Trust me, Selina, you have a great future ahead of you at this school. I’m going to see to that.’

  Selina began to smile. She said, ‘Felicity, you’ve been very kind and very understanding. Thank you.’

  Felicity shrugged, ‘It was nothing. Now clear up your face. Here’s a tissue. A bit of spit and polish should do the job.’

  Selina took the proffered tissue and applied it to her running mascara. Felicity walked towards the door. ‘This has been an invaluable chat, Selina.’

  Selina nodded and pushed her hair behind her ears, ‘It has, Felicity, and thanks again.’

  Felicity smiled and opened the door. Before she closed it behind her, however, she turned and said som
ewhat distractedly, ‘I’m sorry to rush off like this, Selina, but my hearing aid is playing me up. I think it’s dust or the batteries. It’s been driving me mad with its buzzing for the last fifteen minutes or so.’

  Selina smiled. ‘That’s all right.’

  As the door closed, she stuffed Felicity’s tissue into her mouth and bit down hard.

  John’s Box

  A story for Manuel

  This story is about two people who talk to each other. One of them is dying. The dying man is called John. The girl is Melissa. Melissa works in a clothes shop. They become friends.

  John cradled his head in his hands and said, almost to himself, ‘I can’t believe I’m dying. I’m only thirty-four. I feel so fucking helpless.’

  The doctor stood behind him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. The hand felt like a vice, like the vice of death, closing in on him, tightening. He left the hospital and went shopping.

  Shopping was his excuse. It was his way of expressing how he felt. Throughout his thirty-four years he had knowingly frittered away his wages – earned through selling advertising space in newspapers – at shops in the centre of London. Oxford Street was his Mecca, Regent Street his Lourdes. He simply adored Liberty’s but felt ashamed of this adoration. It seemed dangerously effeminate to enjoy looking at bottles of preserves, bits of jewellery, pyjamas and ties, crockery and glass, so, so much.

  At home he had five tea sets and three complete dinner services, although he rarely entertained. He was too busy shopping to make friends, too busy feeling ashamed about expressing himself solely through this act of exchange.

  He was bright. At school he had been encouraged in both the arts and the sciences. Yet his favourite lesson had always been woodwork. When he was fourteen he had built a bookshelf entirely under his own steam and had received top marks for his initiative and effort. When he was fourteen. Now he was thirty-four and sold advertising space for a living and was dying and had a small rented house in Mile End and had no one to love him.