The State of Me

by Nasim Marie Jafry

  Whatever you think, I said. And I’d like the colour really subtle. I’m nervous. It’s my first time.

  Don’t worry. You’ll be a wee treat. Is it a special occasion?

  My boyfriend’s coming back from travelling. He’s been away for seven months.

  So you’re getting all dolled up for him?

  Yeah.

  Quite right. We’ll get you gowned up and started. Would you like a tea or a coffee?

  Tea, please. Very weak.

  My head was just bearable, although everything was vaguely hallucinated, and the music was too loud. The hairdresser next to me was asking her customer if her neighbour was still mental. The woman laughed and said yes.

  Jay had just started dabbing in the colour when the questions started: What is it you do anyway?

  I’m a student.

  What are you studying?

  French and English.

  My pal’s sister’s doing German. She’s in Frankfurt just now having a whale of a time.

  I’ve already done my year abroad, but I’ve been ill so I’m not actually enrolled just now.

  That’s a shame – you could always work for the EEC when you’ve finished.

  Maybe, I said.

  The world’s your oyster.

  I looked at him in the mirror, so perky in his black shirt and Levi’s. There was no point trying to explain so I just smiled.

  When he’d finished, I felt like Boy George, with the mèche clips flapping in my hair. He’d twisted one in too tightly but I didn’t want to say anything. He put me under the heat panels, and a boy goth with acne brought me tea and slapped a Cosmopolitan onto my lap.

  I tried to read but Jay had told me not to move my head – reaching the tea was out of the question – and my arms were getting tired holding up the magazine. I got as far as my horoscope: Scorpios are creatures of extremes, passionate and obsessive. Playing a waiting game is not your idea of fun. Use silver and grey to calm yourself down.

  After forty-five minutes, the timer wailed and the goth led me over to the sink to rinse out the chemicals. He scalded my head and asked me if this was my day off.

  No, I said. I can’t work just now. I have ME.

  Is that where you’re pure knackered all the time?

  It’s much more complex than that.

  I think I had it last Christmas. I was in my bed for two weeks. My legs were like jelly. I’m not kidding.

  I don’t think it was ME, I said. Maybe you had a virus.

  D’you want conditioner in your hair?

  Please.

  How long have you had it?

  Three and a half years.

  Will you ever get better?

  It’s supposed to burn itself out in five years.

  It’s not all gloom and doom then.

  He turbaned my hair and took me back to the mirror.

  My head felt like a boulder on my neck and my face was numb. He put the rubber thing that’s like a car mat round my neck.

  Jay re-appeared and chopped and layered without much more chat. I gave one word answers when he did. I tried to sip my tea but it was cold and had hair floating in it.

  An hour later, he’d finished blow-drying me. The highlights glinted and I loved them. He held a mirror up so I could see the back – it didn’t look like my head. It’s lovely, I said. Thanks a lot! He was brushing the hair off my neck when I saw Rita come in. I felt the same relief I’d felt years ago when she’d meet me at the gates of primary school – she’d be two minutes late and I’d think she wasn’t coming and then she’d suddenly be there and we’d beam at each other and everything would be fine.

  The goth got my coat. I hope you feel better soon, he said.

  Thanks, I said.

  Your hair’s gorgeous, said Rita. The honey colour really lifts your face up. What a difference!

  I know – I love it. I can’t wait for Ivan to see.

  She half smiled. What time’s the leg wax?

  Four, I said. I think I was a bit ambitious booking it right after this. I feel crap.

  We’ll get some lunch and just relax for an hour. You’ll be fine.

  Rita. Lovely Rita.

  I had golden hair and smooth legs but I had to do what I was dreading doing – I had to phone Callum and tell him Ivan was back. I was terrified he’d turn up the same day that Ivan was coming.

  His mum answered and asked me how I was keeping. Up and down, I said. It’s a terrible thing, she said. I wondered if she’d be so sympathetic if she knew I was about to dump her son.

  Hi, doll.

  I couldn’t build up to it so I blurted it out – Ivan’s back, I said.

  That was quick. I thought he was gallivanting in Thailand.

  He was but he’s back.

  Are you pleased?

  Of course, I said.

  Can I come over?

  Just now? It’s after nine.

  I really want to see you.

  Okay.

  Are you going to tell him about us?

  Of course not.

  Why not?

  I’ll talk to you when you get here, I said. I don’t like the phone.

  Okay, he said.

  You and Callum were midnight owls last night, said Nab.

  Sorry, Nab, did we wake you? We were talking late. Callum was upset about something.

  No, I was awake anyway. I was looking for Rennies.

  I hoped he hadn’t heard Callum crying.

  He’d accused me of wanting to cheer myself up with a bit of rough while Ivan had been away.

  I’m so sorry, I’d said. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought we both knew it was a bit of fun all along.

  His face was rigid with hurt. I thought it was more than fun, he said.

  Please don’t be so sad, Callum. You know how fond I am of you.

  I’m fond of dogs. It means fuck all.

  I’m sorry, I said.

  Sorry is just shite.

  I know but what else can I do to make you feel better?

  You can tell Handsome Horace it’s over.

  You know I can’t do that.

  You can fuck off with your fondness then.

  He’d sat on the bed with his hands over his eyes for half an hour. I made him two cups of Earl Grey but the bergamot had lost its charm.

  Everything is so heavy. Agnes is gone and I seem to have broken Callum’s heart. Ivan will make everything okay – he will be the magnificent rainbow after the non-stop drizzle for days.

  I didn’t sleep the night before. I was worrying about what to wear and just when I was falling asleep, the bastard magpies woke me.

  Rita came up at midday to make sure I was up. It feels like my wedding day, I joked. I think your wedding would be less stressful, she said.

  I had three hours to make myself beautiful.

  I’d decided on my bright orange tracksuit bottoms (slightly flared) and black crew neck from Miss Selfridge. I showered with melon soap and washed my hair with seaweed shampoo. I sat on the floor and dried off and coated myself in cocoa butter.

  I scrubbed my face with Japanese adzuki beans (which were going mouldy in the cardboard tub). I cleansed and toned and moisturised according to Clare’s instructions. I combed my eyebrows and put Vaseline on my eyelashes with an old mascara brush. I pinched my cheeks and put on Rita’s lipstick (pale amber). It was like a hook, moulded in the shape of her bottom lip, like all her lipsticks.

  My arms felt like rags but I blow-dried my hair to bring out the highlights.

  You look lovely, said Rita.

  I’d already wrapped the Swatch watch in dark blue paper and silver ribbon and put it on my pillow for later.

  I sat at the window, waiting for his yellow Beetle to come round the corner. I couldn’t remember ever being so excited about anything. I felt like the terrier across the road that went berserk at the window every night when its owner came home from work.

  He was right on time. That’s him! I yelped, jumping up.

  I
stood beside the bins as his car crunched onto the gravel. I walked over as he got out. He was very tanned and thinner and wearing his thick glasses, which always made him a bit geeky. For a micro-second I felt disappointed and then he was holding me and I was leaning on him and he was back and he would never go away again and everything was bearable. We kissed shyly on the lips and I took his hand. Let’s go in, I said.

  Look who I found in the driveway! I said to Rita. They hugged awkwardly beside the fridge. You’ve lost weight, said Rita. That’s amoebic dysentery for you, he replied.

  Are you okay now? I said. Have the amoebas gone?

  I hope so. It wasn’t pleasant.

  We’ll need to feed you up. I still can’t believe you’re here. I have been dreaming of this – literally – for months!

  He smiled but I didn’t see any pity in his eyes and they should have been swimming in it.

  He sat down in the living room and the space on the couch was filled again. He looked so familiar, like a new pair of shoes I’d been lusting after but never thought I’d actually own. And here they were on the couch, bought at last, mine forever to covet and wear.

  I sat beside him and he put his arm round me. There’s so much to ask you, I don’t know where to start! I said.

  How are you? he said. Any improvements?

  Small steps forward then a big step back. The ACTH was good.

  It’s heavy stuff.

  It seemed to dilute the poison in my muscles.

  That’s good.

  Don’t you notice something different about me?

  Your hair’s nice. Have you had it cut?

  Highlights, I’ve got highlights! Can you not see me glint? I stood up and went to the window. Can you see them now?

  A little.

  You can’t, you’re just saying that!

  The light must be too flat, he said.

  Rita came in with a tray of tea and sandwiches. How are your parents, Ivan?

  They’re fine, he said. I think they thought I was never coming back.

  They’re not the only ones, I said, sticking out my tongue.

  And how’s your grandmother? said Rita

  Totally demented. The first thing she said to me was, You smell like you’ve been in a cupboard. I told her I hadn’t been in a cupboard, I’d been to India.

  Maybe she thinks you were in Narnia, I said, sniffing his shoulder. You don’t smell like a cupboard, you smell just like you.

  Right, said Rita, that’ll tide you both over ‘til teatime. There’s plenty in the freezer. I’m off to put my glad rags on.

  Thanks, Mum, I said. Is it not a bit early for you leaving?

  I want to drop in on Grandad, he’s still not a hundred percent. I’ve got a Nevil Shute book for him.

  My grandad’s had a horrible flu, I said.

  That’s a shame, said Ivan. Where’s Nab?

  He’s climbing the Ben with someone from the hospital. Rita’s going to meet them at the guy’s house for dinner. We’ll have the place to ourselves. I can’t wait to kiss you properly!

  He smiled, and I glided along in the fairy tale.

  I have something in the car for you, he said after Rita had gone.

  Bring your bag in too, I said. Your overnight stuff.

  He came back with a crumpled package that smelled of incense. I opened it. It was an orange silk dress. It’s lovely, I said, grazing his cheek with a kiss. Thank you so much!

  I hope it fits. I got medium.

  It’ll look great with a tan. I’m going to Madeira with Rita and Nab in the summer.

  That’s good, he said. Something to look forward to.

  My first time abroad since France. You could come. There’s plenty of room.

  I can’t. I’m just back.

  Well, I might need to have a holiday romance then! I put my arms around him and tucked myself into him sideways like a cat. Where’s your bag? I said.

  I don’t have one.

  Why not?

  I don’t need one.

  What do you mean?

  I’m not staying, Looby.

  What d’you mean you’re not staying?!

  I need to talk to you.

  You’re here to see me after seven months and you’re not staying! You have to stay.

  He took my hand. Listen to me, babe – you look lovely and I’m really happy to see you and it would be amazing to jump into bed with you but it wouldn’t be fair…He explained in words made of felt how he’d had time to think when he was away and how it would be better if we were just friends and how he couldn’t tell me on the phone, but I couldn’t hear him properly because this was all happening through a window and the words weren’t real, they were made of felt.

  I clung to him and cried onto his shirt and his jeans and the orange dress.

  I got highlights for you, I said! I blow-dried my stupid hair for you. I never blow-dry my hair. You’ve met someone. It’s Joyce isn’t it?

  No!

  The sheep warned me.

  What?

  The sheep in my dream, that’s what it was trying to do, warn me about this!

  Don’t be stupid.

  You are my life.

  Please don’t say that – I can’t be your life.

  But you are.

  I can’t be. You’re your own life.

  You’re dumping me because I’m ill.

  I’m not dumping you.

  Well it certainly feels like it! Which words do you prefer? Destroying? Killing?

  Stop being so dramatic. Look this is hard for me too. I’ve worried myself sick wondering how I would tell you. I might be making a big mistake, I don’t know, but I can’t be with you just now, I just can’t. I’m sorry.

  Well, fuck off then!

  D’you really want me to go?

  Yes!

  I don’t think you should be on your own.

  He was almost crying now.

  Maybe you should have thought of that before delivering your grand monologue. I’m going to be on my own with this fucking illness for the rest of my life so I better get used to it!

  You’re hysterical.

  I’m not!

  Sit down. You need to calm down.

  I don’t need to calm down.

  I’ll make some more tea.

  I don’t want any more bastard tea. Do you know how many cups of tea I’ve had to drink since I got ill?! Every time it looks like things are getting a bit grim, someone makes me another cup of tea!

  I’m sorry.

  You haven’t even noticed that Agnes is dead.

  I knew what I had to do. He should have been folding me in kisses and instead he was telling me it was over. I went through to the kitchen and opened the cutlery drawer and raked for the chopping knife.

  What are you doing, Helen?!

  None of your business!

  I found the knife and scored it across my left arm three times. I marched back through to Ivan. See what happens when you leave people because they’re ill and you don’t want them holding you back!

  For fuck’s sake! Are you mad?

  No, I’m not mad. You know I’m not mad.

  You need to wash your arm.

  He propelled me through to the bathroom.

  Ouch! I said as the water hit the cut. It hurts.

  It’s not deep, he said. It won’t scar.

  You know I’m not mad, I whispered.

  The rage had gone, I was washed up and calm.

  I’m hurt and terrified but I’m not mad, I said.

  You can’t let your mother and Nab see that.

  I know. They’d have me sectioned.

  I wish I had some Valium to give you. Does Rita have any?

  Of course not. Rita doesn’t even take Anadin. Why would she have Valium?

  My mum’s got some.

  Well, Rita’s not your mum. Rita doesn’t need Valium.

  What’s that supposed to mean?

  Nothing.

  You’re one to talk, you’re like a fucking
tsunami.

  A what?

  A big wave after an earthquake.

  Well, you shouldn’t have caused the earthquake, I said.

  I’m sorry.

  I’m sorry too, I said. I feel so stupid. I’m always mad and choppy with no sleep.

  I’m going to make some tea. I need some even if you don’t.

  I’ve felt like doing it so often but never have. Tonight I snapped. It’s weird, you get a kind of high from it.

  It’s the endorphins.

  I thought you only got those from aerobics and sex.

  No, endorphins block pain.

  So it doesn’t matter that you’re leaving me! I’ll just keep cutting my arm. I won’t feel a thing.

  He shook his head and went into the kitchen.

  I’m not going to kill myself, I shouted through. If I was going to do it, I’d have done it by now.

  He came through with tea.

  Don’t tell anyone about my arm.

  I won’t.

  Promise you won’t.

  I promise.

  I’m not trying to blackmail you. I’m just upset.

  I know.

  We sipped our tea in silence (his) overlapping with grief (mine).

  I’ve always known it would end like this, I said. Deep down I’ve always known.

  Imagine I’d got ill, he said quietly. What would you have done?

  I don’t know, Ivan. How on earth could I know? I know I wouldn’t have abandoned you though.

  I’m not abandoning you. I’ll phone you all the time.

  We talked in circles for hours. It was dark but I didn’t want the lights on. He kept denying that he’d met someone else. I wanted to hurt him with Callum, but I was too scared to tell him in case it made it easier for him to leave.

  Can we put a lamp on, please? he said. It’s depressing sitting in the dark.

  I like the dark, I said. I’m too sad to have the lights on. We can go into the kitchen if you want. Are you hungry?

  I’m starving.

  We heated up oven chips and pizza and he told me about the Taj Mahal. He’d gone at sunrise when there was hardly anyone else there – he’d wanted to be first to charge through the gates and have a sense of being alone instead of sharing it with the thousands of other people.

  It must’ve been amazing, I said.

  It was amazing. All the semi-precious stones were sparkling, it was like a fairy-tale palace.