And therein lay the epiphany of the lesson:
People disappointed themselves.
They harboured personality traits, good and bad, forever dormant or destined to be conjured by some unexpected situation.
Kim had resolved to do his best not to disappoint himself; his scar was a reminder of that.
‘I faced it in the end and made peace with it,’ he said, subconsciously touching his scar. ‘So why did you decide to tell them that at the time, not what’s in your head about it now, I mean, all changed and twisted… your reasoning then – it must have made sense?’
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right, it did make sense. I didn’t want to tell the children what he’d done, to disappoint them like that. I wanted to get him out of our lives as quickly as I could. All I could see were huge arguments, the whole family hating each other – my mother, I was worried about what it would do to her.
‘She tried so hard to stop me marrying him in the first place and I didn’t listen. Men found me intimidating with my looks and I was always so bright – that’s why I decided to do the modelling, to try and lighten up a bit, meet some different types of people. Men never asked me out, girls were jealous of me, I just wasn’t a very happy person in any area of my life.
‘Mike, though… he just threw himself at me like I was the most incredible thing he’d ever seen and I was flattered, appreciated, wanted… happy for a moment, I suppose. But my sister always craved whatever I had, she was horribly jealous. Sleeping with my husband was in a whole new league, however. I never told my mother what she did and neither did she. Saying he had died made such perfect sense. I guess it was satisfying to hurt Sophie in that way, too, taking away her lover.’ She spat the word, surprising herself. ‘I can’t remember thinking that, though? Was that why I did it?’ She looked appalled.
They continued to talk it through and all her old thoughts came timidly forward, monsters in the dark.
Mistakes.
They checked on Clea. She’d flung the covers off and was sprawled across the bed, still wearing the gold dress with her hair all fanned out; she looked as though she was posing for a photograph, a soft snore the only thing giving her away.
‘She’s very beautiful,’ said the principal.
‘You think so?’ said Kim, ‘I could never quite tell when we first met,’ he said, unaware of how fondly he was looking at her and how quizzically the principal was looking at him.
They stood and looked at her together.
‘I think we should take her dress off. It’s quite tight and might restrict her breathing – we should have done it before, really,’ said the principal at last.
‘I can’t, I’d feel…’
‘Intrusive! I know. I’ll do it, don’t worry. Give me a big t-shirt.’
Kim did as he was told and left the room.
The principal looked at Clea again, she really was a beautiful girl. ‘Come on,’ she said, pulling her up, ‘we’ve got to get this thing off!’
She managed to get her out of the dress and into the t-shirt. ‘Good bye, gorgeous girl,’ she said, kissing her gently on the cheek. ‘And thank you,’ she whispered, putting her hand on her own chest where it was still warm with her light.
Back in the hall Kim was waiting.
‘I could come home with you?’
‘I think you should be here when she wakes up,’ said the principal. ‘She’s in love with you, you know?’ She studied Kim’s face to gauge his reaction.
‘She’s in love with Flow,’ he said confidently.
‘Come,’ she said with a knowing little smile. ‘Help me find a black taxi.’ She linked his arm as they walked towards the New King’s Road, lost in her own thoughts. ‘So this is it, Kim,’ she said, as a taxi pulled up.
She was the principal again, impenetrable, resolute, all emotional doorways to him locked, and he understood that whatever they had done for each other had concluded.
He returned to Doria Road and slumped on one of the sofas in the dark. He watched the shadows play around the room cast by the lights from the gardens of a busy London district that was his birthplace, Fulham, and realised that he was well and truly ready to leave.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed, only that he woke up cold with a start and took a few moments to piece everything together. He crept to his room to check on Clea. There she was, still asleep in his bed.
Shivering, he decided to take a hot shower. The sun was nearly up and he wasn’t going to go back to sleep now. The shower restored him and afterwards he returned to his bedroom to find some clothes, a towel wrapped around his waist.
‘What happened?’ said Clea sleepily.
‘Oh, nothing much,’ said Kim, pulling on underwear, jeans, shirt. Clea was too busy clutching her head to even notice. ‘You just turned up at 1am or whatever it was, looking like a pillar of gold, said you thought you were going to be sick, then did some sort of voodoo healing thing on my guest before passing out on the floor, but apart from that…’
‘What?’ said Clea. ‘What healing thing? Doesn’t sound like me.’
‘Well, maybe a tea or coffee will help refresh your memory – how’s your head?’
‘Fuzzy… and look at me,’ said Clea, surveying the smudged stage make-up in his bedroom mirror. ‘What a mess,’ she said absentmindedly as she started to recall the night’s events. ‘I remember drinking too much,’ she said, following him down the hall.
‘Uh ha,’ he said.
‘And I remember someone giving me something in a wrap…’
‘Uhhhh-ha!’ said Kim, flicking the kettle on.
‘Then I remember being totally out of it and freaked out and the only thing…’ she stopped and looked at him, blushing.
‘The only thing?’ he prompted her, locking eyes.
‘The only thing I could think was that I had to get to you,’ she finished, looking right back without flinching or blushing, now.
It was Kim’s turn to feel uncomfortable.
‘Errrrr, tea or coffee?’ he asked in the end.
‘Why didn’t you kiss me that night in the park, Kim?’ she asked boldly.
‘Clea, I don’t feel ever so comfortable with this, what with Flow and you the way it is, and Flow being my best mate, it just isn’t sitting exactly right, you know what I mean?’
‘There is no Flow and me, Kim, there never was.’ She tugged at the t-shirt, realising that it only just covered her bottom. ‘Coffee, please – and can I have a quick shower?’
‘No – I mean of course, have a shower. No Flow and you, is what I meant, what do you mean?’
‘I mean we have never even kissed, we’re just friends. Always have been just friends.’
‘What about the night you stayed? After the food fight?’
‘I slept on the sofa, Flow slept in his bed.’ She took the coffee gratefully and sipped. ‘It’s like he knew I liked you,’ she said openly. She was being very brave, maybe she was still drunk or high or both. ‘Was that your girlfriend here last night?’ she said, forgetting the shower for the moment, curling her long legs under her on the sofa, cupping the warm mug with her hands.
Kim sat next to her, a little smile playing on his face.
‘No you and Flow?’ he said.
‘No – me – and – Flow,’ she said levelly, a smile playing on her face too as she enjoyed unselfconsciously looking at him for once, her tummy flipping pleasantly.
‘No you and Flow,’ he said, while the information sank in, ‘and you like me?’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘And he’s ok about that?’
‘As far as I know,’ said Clea, thinking how happy Kim looked. ‘Was it bothering you, then?’
‘Yeah!’ said Kim. ‘It was bothering me.’
‘Does that mean you like me, too?’ said Clea.
‘What do you think?’ said Kim.
Clea wanted to ask him again whether that had been his girlfriend but her boldness had gone.
‘
I think I’ve been very honest with you,’ she said instead.
‘That wasn’t my girlfriend,’ said Kim, as if he had read her mind. ‘She came to tell me… well, she came to say goodbye.’
Saying it broke their eye contact and broke the spell.
‘Ok,’ she said, conscious of the change in atmosphere. ‘I do remember the healing thing but I’ve never done it before, it must have been something to do with being off my head, being on another wavelength, whatever it was. I seriously have no idea but it seemed to just happen. I felt like I could see her illness and grab it – she had a secret – I don’t know what it was but it was killing her, literally. Unless I imagined it all.’
‘That’s what you kept saying, that her secret was killing her, and you said you could see it. Anyway, maybe you were right, maybe she did have a secret and maybe you helped.’ He looked at her again and the bubble of their original relationship began to re-form and surround them. ‘You should get that shower.’
He got up then, nervous that he might just grab her if he stayed too close. ‘Whatever you need’s in there, towels… all that,’ he said, touching his scar.
He wanted to talk to Flow. He had to know it was going to be ok with him and if it wasn’t, this was going nowhere. He couldn’t risk their friendship. He would be nothing without it.
The doctor will be with you shortly
The principal had fought back tears all the way home in the taxi, then, safely in her house, cried like never before. For everything. For hours.
She could have kept the tears at bay so easily; just a crook of her finger would have had Kim in the taxi with her, willingly giving away his young energy for her to warm herself against.
But she had already taken too much, finally buckled under the pressure of being human. She needed to get through her pain, to admit her mistake, and she needed to let Kim get on with his life.
The doctor closed the door and asked her to sit down. The biopsy had showed that the tumour was not dangerous or malignant but he recommended surgery to remove it.
He didn’t take her request for another X-ray seriously until she physically slammed her hand on the desk and insisted that he do it.
She wasn’t sure she was healed but she strongly suspected that was the case. The experience with Clea had been so intense, the warmth she had felt had gone right through her and the physical pain had not come back since.
‘But it’s impossible,’ said the doctor, holding the now healthy sheet to the light yet again.
As soon as she got back from the doctor’s she booked flights for them all to go to Australia; life had given her a second chance and she was going to grab it with both hands.
She knew that when her son and daughter heard the news they were going to want to see their father and she wasn’t going to get things wrong this time; she was going to think things through properly, plan and do the best she possibly could for her beloved children.
If she had been strong enough to hold the pain alone for so long, she was going to be strong enough to face whatever the consequence.
Love was going to win.
The doctor just couldn’t fathom what had happened with the disappearing tumour and he didn’t like things that he couldn’t understand, so he simply dismissed the whole thing from his mind, never to tell a soul.
His next patient was a bit of a mystery because there was nothing apparently wrong in her life, yet over the years she seemed to suffer a constant depression. He had given her some more pills, stronger than last time, and he hoped they helped, but he had so little time and so small a budget – plus a whole host of his own personal problems to contend with.
Five minutes per patient was all he was allowed, five minutes! How was he meant to do a good job within those constraints?
He just did his best and that was all he could do.
Dear Diary,
I am so proud of Clea for getting out, so proud. I just can’t stop this feeling that I never belonged here, an earthbound misfit. The fear that grips me threatens to pull me to dark places I can’t stand. The physical tightness in my body, as it braces itself against the evil that is all around, gives me physical pain. The doctor has prescribed stronger pills. They are good. They keep me numb and block out the fear, so much so that I made it to Clea’s show.
She didn’t know, of course, and I didn’t tell Hugo, I don’t want him to know where she is but I know. I looked her up on a computer. My beautiful daughter, I failed you, my darling, but I love you more than anyone else in the world…
Back from Spain, Flow and Kim chatting in the pub
‘I have to ask you… what happened with Clea, Flow? I thought you liked her?’
Flow stared into his pint, embarrassed. He hadn’t mentioned to Kim that nothing had actually happened between them.
‘I don’t fucking know, I can’t explain it. Why? What are you asking me for?’
‘Just… curious,’ said Kim, bottling it.
They gave each other one of those sideways little looks that they knew so well and went silently back to their pints.
‘Well, you don’t slam a strawberry gateau in someone’s face unless you’re really fucking angry,’ said Flow at last, ‘and I figured she must really like you to do that, like most girls do – story of my fucking life,’ he added enviously with another sideways glance and a raised eyebrow, before returning once again to his pint.
They glugged in unpeaceful silence, surveying the pub. ‘So… has anything happened with you and her that I should know about?’ said Flow eventually.
‘No. I promise, no.’
‘But you want it to, right?’
‘No! Not if it’s going to fuck us up.’
‘But you like her?’ he pushed.
‘Yeah I like her.’
‘Like her just want to fuck her like her, or like her like her?’
‘Like her, Flow, but not enough to fuck us up. I just wanted to sound you out, that’s all. No big deal. I can take it or leave it an’ I’m going to leave it, I don’t know why I even brought it up, it’s nothing.’
‘Huh,’ snorted Flow sarcastically.
‘And just what is “huh” supposed to mean?’
‘It means “huh,” Kim, it just means “huh”, ok?’
‘No, it’s not ok, Flow. I’m not falling out with you over a girl again, never, you hear? You’re family to me. Us not talking was the worst time of my life and God knows I’ve had a lot of worst times! Forget I said anything, just don’t give me shit, ok?’
‘Ok!’ said Flow. ‘Fuck. All I said was huh!’ He mumbled into his pint.
‘It’s the way you said huh, Flow. Don’t fuck with me on this.’
‘Ok, I huh-earrrrd you,’ he said with a smile in his voice.
‘You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you? Just remember all the dirt I’ve got on you, pal! What would your mum say if she knew you were the one that taught the parrot to shout “fuck you you fucking fuck?” Huh?’
‘She grounded my brother for a week.’
‘I know,’ said Kim. ‘You want me to carry on?’
Slowly over the evening the synergy returned to their friendship. Kim had forgotten Clea once before, he would forget her again. Only this time it was going to be harder because she was now a part of their lives.
The aftermath
Once Clea had slept it off again she replayed events and felt sick. How could she have been so forward with Kim? What had she been thinking of? Plus, taking a strange white powder – absolute madness, she had worked too hard to put everything at risk like that.
She needed to get a serious grip on herself if she wanted her career to go anywhere. Her performance hadn’t been as good after God knows what rubbish she had put into her body; she had been so thirsty, downing pints and pints of water for four days after that.
Her Achilles’ heel, her weakness for Kim, threatened to make a fool of her – how did her feelings for him manage to overshadow everything else that was so much mor
e important in her life?
Every time she saw him she lost control, every time. Not only that, during this latest episode she had made a complete freak of herself with the healing thing. She had no idea how that had happened but it had spooked her.
She wasn’t much of a one for phones but she texted Kim now.
I’m so sorry for coming to you in that state,
it won’t happen again. Thank you for your help. C xx
It wasn’t long before she got one back.
Probably best. Good luck with the show,
See you around. K
No kiss at the end. He wasn’t interested. ‘Probably best.’ Her stomach lurched and the old ache threatened. She took his beer bottle letter out of her purse where she had sentimentally tucked it and made to tear it up but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. Instead, she shoved it between a couple of books and went to have a hot shower before it was time to leave for the theatre.
Australia
The principal had booked three seats in a row on the plane and sat in between her children, holding their hands to admit the lie.
She prepared herself for the moment she had been dreading and looked into their eyes after her confession. She saw confusion, shock maybe, but no anger or hate.
‘Auntie Sophie did that, Mum?’ her daughter asked in amazement.
‘Sick! Dad did that? You’re way prettier than Auntie Sophie, Mum. I mean, I like her, or I did. That’s just so fucked up,’ continued her son. ‘So what now?’
‘Well,’ said the principal, ‘now we go and see him so that we can both apologise to you and work out…’ she stopped.
‘Work out what?’ said her daughter.
‘Well, what we do next… as a…’ she faltered again, ‘family,’ she finished uneasily.
The Frog Theory Page 11