‘I’m not moping. I’ve got enough on my plate with work to keep me in the office for hours on end. I haven’t got time to mope.’
‘Screw work. You’re single now. You can’t waste your life working and sleeping. You need to get back out there. Shit happens, but when you fall off a horse, you get straight back on again.’ He disappeared behind the bonnet. ‘Forget Sarah. And I’m being blunt to give you a kick up the arse. If she doesn’t want to be with you, then you’re just wasting your time.’
‘But she does,’ Adam muttered into his cup.
‘She turned you down and has barely spoken to you since. It doesn’t sound like she’s falling over herself to be with you.’ Carl looked up at Adam and frowned. ‘What happened? Don’t tell me you shagged her?’
‘Of course not. She was paralytic.’
‘All you’ve been saying since you split is that she turned cold on you. Something must have happened for you to think she wants you now.’
Adam scratched his cheek and leaned against the exposed brick wall. It vibrated as a train sped along the tracks above. Tinny music played from the portable radio on the desk cluttered with paperwork. Carl was so tidy at home, but his garage was a mess.
‘She told me she loved me.’
‘So? She was wasted. It was probably the drink talking.’
Adam sighed. Carl wouldn’t judge him for reading her diary, but having to say it out loud made the whole thing sound sleazy.
‘I read her diary.’
‘Deep. What did it say?’
‘In a nutshell?’ Adam raised an eyebrow. ‘She never wanted to split up, but for some unknown reason, she had no choice.’
Carl straightened up and grimaced. ‘That’s a bit fucked up.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘So, what are you going to do?’
‘What can I do? I can’t tell her I read it. She’d go nuts.’
No way was he going to tell him about Claire. Carl might be his best mate, but he was also brutally honest, and he’d been the first to tell Adam to pull himself together after their break-up. He didn’t want his friends to know the extent of her secrecy because he didn’t want to hear them telling him to run for the hills. Especially when, if the roles were reversed, it was exactly what he’d advise himself.
What was he going to do when he uncovered her secret, anyway? He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it could be, and the only clue from her current diary was that it involved some guy. But that made no sense. She would have been what – fourteen? Fifteen? It was hard to believe she would still be pining over someone all these years later. Although it would explain why she’d turned him down – if she was in love with someone else. One thing he’d realised was just how little he really knew about her. What was to say that she’d never really loved him? Adam’s stomach turned at the acrid aftertaste of the coffee.
It sounded a lot more dramatic than a case of lost love, anyway. It sounded like someone had died or something. Had she killed someone? It was a ridiculously absurd thought, but it was the only thing he could think of where she would be utterly terrified to tell anyone. And it would have implications for her job and her family, like she’d written.
Was she really capable of killing another human being, even accidentally? The cold air of the garage wound its way into his jacket collar. He didn’t know – that was the honest answer. It was completely at odds with her personality. She hardly even raised her voice when she was angry, let alone displayed signs of violence. But then she seemed to be very skilled at keeping secrets and only revealing the parts of herself that she wanted to. The revelation about Claire was a perfect case in point.
Was he really thinking about this? Sarah – a murderer? The awful thing was, it wasn’t outside the realms of possibility. She could be a sociopath or a psychopath or whatever it was called.
He shook his head. He had to stop thinking like this. He was tired, and his mind was overreacting. It just wasn’t possible for her to have done something that heinous. Of that he was sure.
12.
A couple of hours later, Adam joined the queue in the shop down the road from his street. He was supposed to be visiting his parents for Sunday lunch, but he couldn’t face it. He’d told his older brother about the break-up, and within minutes of getting off the phone with him, their mum had called. He usually popped in to see them on a regular basis, but he hadn’t been once since he got back from Santorini. There was no doubt they meant well, but he simply couldn’t deal with a barrage of questions. Besides, he was shattered after having to get up so early for Carl to MOT his car, and he planned to sink into the sofa with a stash of junk food and a film.
The person in front of him left the shop, and Adam emptied the small basket onto the counter. His dentist would have a heart attack if he saw Adam’s load – chocolate bars, toffee popcorn, nachos and dip and a litre bottle of Coke. Adam told himself that the smile on the shopkeeper’s face was a friendly one instead of a knowing one, one that said he’d seen countless other guys in the same position – newly single, angry, confused, fed up and tired.
As he opened his wallet, a flash of brown hair in the corner of his vision caught his eye. He handed the ten pound note to the shopkeeper as he looked towards the back of the shop with his heart choking his throat. It was Sarah – he was certain of it. He could recognise her corkscrew curls anywhere. She hadn’t seen him, or if she had, she’d chosen to ignore him. A wave of uncertainty hit him. If it were anyone else, he’d go over and say hello, but it wasn’t anyone else. She’d holed herself up in her room since coming home drunk, and anyone would think it had never happened: that he hadn’t sponged her down in the bathroom, that he hadn’t read her diary. That she hadn’t said she still loved him. He swallowed and quickly looked back in her direction. She was engrossed in the label on a jar of something. Nobody could read a label for so long. The familiar rush of humiliation hit him as he grabbed the plastic bag from the counter and left the shop.
He swore to himself as he walked away. How many times was he going to feel like this? Why was he the one avoiding her anyway? If anyone should be feeling embarrassed and humiliated, it was Sarah. She’d acted like a total stranger since Santorini and come home steaming drunk. He’d cut his night short to help her out, and she hadn’t even acknowledged it. He stopped walking and stood in the middle of the pavement. She’d hidden her twin sister from him, for God’s sake. Why the hell was he still being so nice?
Adam looked back towards the shop before leaning against the low wall of someone’s front garden. They’d been skirting around each other in what could only be called an attempt at civility to make their messed-up living arrangement bearable and he was tired of it. He was tired of feeling guilty for sleeping with Tamsin, tired of trying to second-guess Sarah, tired of trying to pretend she hadn’t hurt him. Maybe it was time she felt some of the awkwardness he was feeling too.
He waited for her, watching a pigeon peck at a half-eaten chocolate bar. The way it pecked away at it was so simple, and he sat engrossed watching it, admiring its determination. If only everything in life were as simple to deal with. The faint bell of the shop door opening and closing made him look up, and he saw Sarah step out. When she saw him, she momentarily hesitated, but it wasn’t as if she could turn and walk in the opposite direction. Adam stood as she approached, and he plastered something like a smile onto his face.
‘You stocking up too?’ he asked, looking at her bag. Through the thin plastic, he could see that she’d gone for a similar selection to his. Of course she had. Pig-out Sundays were something they used to do together all the time.
‘Yeah,’ she replied, holding it up.
A few seconds passed as they stood on the pavement looking at each other. How could it be so awkward between them when they’d been together for so long? Adam had to remind himself that he didn’t really know her, and he was sure her diari
es would reveal a whole lot more than a secret twin.
‘I saw you inside, so I thought I’d wait.’
Sarah had the good grace to blush, and he knew then that he’d been right. She had seen him, and he took a small bite of satisfaction, knowing that she must have been a little embarrassed about ignoring him.
‘Thanks,’ she mumbled, and they started walking back to the flat.
The instinct to hold her hand almost took over as they walked side by side. It would have been the natural thing to do, but instead, Adam gripped his bag with one hand and stuffed the other into his pocket.
‘So,’ he said, ‘how are you feeling?’
She looked up at him, momentarily confused before a visible cringe passed across her face. She looked straight ahead and nodded.
‘Better. I meant to say thanks. For looking after me.’
‘No problem,’ Adam replied. At least she’d said thanks. ‘That was some state you got yourself into. Was it like a birthday treat?’
‘No.’ Her voice was sharp, as if he’d said something he shouldn’t. ‘I don’t do birthday treats.’
‘It’s just as well. Last year you had the flu; this year you got wasted,’ Adam said as they approached their building. ‘Not having much luck on the birthday front.’
‘I don’t really celebrate it. I told you that, remember?’
He did remember. Last year, he’d planned to take her to the theatre and a posh dinner, but she’d fallen ill the night before her birthday and cancelled. She wouldn’t even let him come over to the flat she was living in at the time, saying she preferred to be alone instead. And there he was, thinking she was uncomplicated. He held in the bitter laugh bubbling in his throat as he unlocked the communal door.
‘There’s always next year,’ he said, following her up the stairs. Based on the last two birthdays she’d had, he dreaded to think what would happen on the next one.
‘Yeah. There is.’
He frowned as she unlocked the door to their flat. By the tone of her voice, anyone would think he’d suggested she jump from a plane without a parachute. He’d clearly said something wrong, but before he even had a chance to think about what it might be, she went straight into her room and closed the door.
Adam shrugged his jacket off and shook his head. Getting any information from her was like trying to have a conversation with a lamp post. He went into his room, shut the door behind him and reached for the box of diaries under the bed. They didn’t need to talk. He was certain her diaries would tell him everything he needed to know.
13.
12 October 1998
Last night was bloody amazing !! I wish I could bottle it up and keep it forever.
I spent the pocket money I’ve been saving and bought a new denim miniskirt and purple tights and teamed them up with my favourite vest top and Converse trainers. Hannah did my makeup for me when I got to her house. She’s really good at it, and she plucked my eyebrows too. All I can say is, Ouch! But it was totally worth it. I looked at least seventeen, and I felt great.
As soon as we got into Corporation, I felt the adrenalin rush. I was so worried we’d get ID’d, but thanks to Daniel’s brother, they just let us straight through. Richard was already there with some of his friends, and when I saw him standing by the cloakroom, I thought I was going to pass out there and then.
In the few seconds I looked at him before being dragged through the club by Hannah, I took in everything – the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled and how the UV light bounced off his teeth, and how he strummed his fingers against his leg in time to the music as if he were playing a guitar. He was wearing baggy, dark jeans and a brown Airwalk T-shirt, and his hair kept falling into his eyes. I wanted to run my fingers through it. Every single thing about him just screamed sexiness, and my heart thumped in my chest so hard I was sure he’d be able to hear it. Thank God he was talking to someone, or he would have seen me gawping at him like a total lunatic!
After a while, I went to sit in the chill-out room. I was hot and knackered out from jumping around to Greenday and Foo Fighters. The room was dark, with a few sofas dotted around the edge, and I could just about make out a couple fooling around on one of them. All I could think was, Wow. Corp was undeniably cool. Everyone wore what they wanted, danced how they wanted and didn’t seem to give a toss what anyone else thought. There were Goths and girls dressed like Fifties pin-ups, and there was even a half-pipe where the skaters whizzed up and down. It seemed like the more outrageously dressed you were, the better. My vest and skirt combo felt a bit lame in comparison. It was nice to be surrounded by people who were into the same things I am.
At school, unless I’m with my friends, I always feel self-conscious. I’d shed my pedal pushers and Reeboks in favour of baggy jeans, dog collars and Vans trainers more or less overnight, and it sometimes feels like I’m seen as a bit of a circus freak. I never realised it before but I guess it all started when Dad died and I started listening to his old music tapes and CDs. He was into classic rock, which I found a bit lame, but it made me feel closer to him. I guess it was just a natural progression for me to start listening to the harder stuff. Now I like everything from grunge to metal. I do listen to the chart stuff sometimes. It’s hard not to when Claire belts it out from her stereo all the time. After the music, the dress sense followed, and I started hanging out with Hannah and her group of friends. We’d hardly ever even spoken before, apart from in English, where we sit next to each other. I always thought she and her friends were a bit weird, but they’re actually the nicest people I know. Not once have I been made to feel like I don’t fit in.
So anyway, I was thinking about how lucky I was to have such a great group of friends, when Richard came in. My heart literally skipped a beat, and I prayed that he’d sit down next to me. He did, and when he spoke, I swear, it was like eating a massive bar of chocolate and having my throat stroked with a feather at the same time. I could feel myself tingling all over. We talked about music, films, everything. He’s so easy to talk to.
I didn’t dance for the rest of the night. I didn’t move at all. I was scared that if I did, I’d turn around and he wouldn’t be there anymore. I couldn’t believe he was giving me the time of day when there were so many pretty girls around. I nearly had to pinch myself to check I wasn’t dreaming. I was in Corporation, finally having a night out with my friends, and I was talking to the fittest guy I’ve ever seen. He’s only a year older than I am, but he’s so mature, and he was genuinely interested in what I had to say.
I could have sat there talking to him all night, but we had to leave to go back to his house. We ended up walking because we missed the last bus. It must have taken an hour or so to get there, and it was freezing cold. Usually, I’d have bitched and moaned, but I didn’t even care. He was walking beside me, talking to me, and then he held my hand! Just like that! Like it was the most natural thing in the world. I can’t even begin to describe the feeling when he did but it was amazing. His hands were so hot against my cold ones, it felt like they’d burn right through my skin, and he didn’t let go the entire way.
His house is huge. It’s detached, and his room in the loft is bloody massive. His parents must be really cool to let him have all his friends back to their house. There were about eight of us there, and everyone paired off before passing a couple of spliffs around. I’d never smoked before. I was always too afraid it would make me feel sick, and I didn’t want to become some loser stone-head, but I didn’t care. It was obviously something Richard did all the time, and I didn’t want to look boring. So I took a toke and held the smoke down, trying to make it look like it was something I did all the time and not cough. Of course, I did. I couldn’t help it, but instead of laughing at me, he just smiled.
I’ll be honest: I didn’t really like it. It tasted really gross, and I didn’t like the way it made me feel all light-headed, but when he leaned over and kissed me
, it didn’t matter. I couldn’t believe it. It still feels like a dream, thinking about it now. It was perfect. I’ve kissed a couple of guys before, but they weren’t even in the same league. I could taste the weed on his tongue, which wasn’t so great I guess, but it didn’t matter. He was kissing me! I felt like I was on top of the world. We kissed all night in between smoking and listening to music.
I’ve never had such a perfect night, and I doubt I ever will again. My skin is still buzzing. For the last few hours, I’ve had him kissing me, stroking my arms, my stomach and running his fingers through my hair. It feels like I’m being starved now that I’m home. I need to shower, but I don’t want to. I want to savour this feeling before I have to wash it all away. I’m so glad I started this diary. If I wasn’t able to read back on it, I’d convince myself I dreamt it all. But I didn’t. It really did happen.
I hope he’ll be at City Hall tomorrow. I have no idea if this means we’re going out or not. I really hope so.
13 October 1998
Richard was out today. My legs turned to jelly when I walked towards City Hall and saw him sitting on the steps, speaking to Tom. My mind went totally blank. I had no idea what to say to him. I’ve heard before how everyone pulls each other when they’re out, but it doesn’t mean they’re together. It’s just seen as a bit of fun. I’d have died if it had all turned out to be nothing more than a fumble. I sat with Hannah and forced myself not to turn around and look at him. I didn’t want to look desperate, just in case. When Daniel turned up, she went off with him (as usual), and within seconds Richard was there, right next to me.
We’re together – there was no doubt about that when he kissed me there and then for everyone to see. Hannah can keep Daniel. Richard trumps him in the cool stakes, and he’s better-looking too. I can’t bloody believe it – Richard Stone is my boyfriend!! I’m so happy! I wonder if it’s too soon for it to be love?
Together Apart Page 7