by Jo Duchemin
“Why would I want to do that?” I sounded hard, harsh, unfeeling.
“You might have fun, doing something new for a change. They say a change is as good as a rest.” Marty’s smile was equally alluring and infuriating to me.
“I don’t want any more changes in my life. I don’t want to go.” I hoped that would be enough to dismiss him, but his blue eyes stayed hypnotically staring at mine.
“You don’t want to go?” He sounded like I’d just told him I’d drowned a puppy – like he couldn’t believe I was capable of such an act. I suspected with his looks he wasn’t used to people saying no to him. It made me more determined to fight against his attempts to involve me in normal life.
“No.” I folded my arms across my chest, in a gesture of defiance.
“You have to continue your life at some point. You’re not the only person to have lost people they love.”
“And you’ve lost your parents, have you?” I wanted to hate him for his interference, but my bitchiness was an act; he was too attractive to hate.
“No…”
“Then you don’t get an opinion.” I spun around out of the kitchen, not bothering to get my drink. I now had another reason to resent Marty. I resented him for the fact that, as much as I tried to ignore it and fight it, I was attracted to him.
The third floor became my sanctuary – I could have showers, watch TV, go online and read my beloved books without having to interface with anyone. I began to think Marty had followed my advice and was leaving me alone, until a knock on my bedroom door on the fourth day of his tenancy.
“What do you want?” I’d practically bellowed at the poor soul.
“Umm, I’m sorry, Claudia. I didn’t wish to disturb you, but I have to tell you there are two policemen here to see you.” He’d sounded so apologetic I felt awful for being so terse with him, and opened the door wordlessly. My throat was full and thick, and I didn’t have words to apologise. My eyes must have said everything for me, as all Marty did was gently pat my shoulder as I walked down the stairs to talk to the police officers. Silently, I knew Marty was following me. I stumbled when I saw the policemen, but Marty’s swift hand caught my elbow and steadied me. Seeing the same policemen that had delivered the awful news, standing in the same hallway, triggered emotions that felt too powerful for me to handle. Marty’s hand stayed strong on my elbow.
“Hello, again.” I would have liked to smile at the officers, but somehow it just didn’t seem right. I could see the pity in their eyes.
“We’re sorry to bother you, Miss Lee, we have some items that belonged to your parents which were recovered from the collision.” One officer spoke whilst the other held out a small box. I didn’t move, so Marty took the box from the officer.
“Thanks,” I stuttered.
After the policemen had left, I sat at the kitchen table with the box, afraid to open it. I could hear the tick of the clock, and knew there was no way to avoid this moment, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. This felt more final, more irreversible, than even the funeral had been. Opening that box meant they were truly never coming back. I don’t know how long I sat at the table, staring trance-like at the box. The scrape of one of the other chairs stirred me out of my frozen state. Marty sat down next to me. I didn’t even realise I’d been crying until he wiped tears off my cheeks with his thumbs. It seemed like such an intimate gesture, but it brought me some comfort.
“This student house is a laugh a minute, huh?” My choked voice didn’t manage the careless sarcasm I had been aiming for. “Orphans crying at the kitchen table, policemen visiting, getting your head bitten off for delivering a message.”
“Well, the phrase ‘don’t shoot the messenger’ could have been written just for you, but it’s not that bad here.” I looked at his eyes, expecting to see a trace of anger there, but saw nothing but kindness. Not the forced, sympathetic kindness I’d seen in so many other eyes recently, but genuine warmth. “You don’t have to be brave every minute of every day, Claudia. You don’t have to use sarcasm and boldness to protect yourself.”
“Every day feels like a struggle. Since they…” I couldn’t continue speaking, as a fresh veil of tears misted up my vision.
“What were they like?”
Marty’s question caught me off guard. So many of the people who had been around me since the accident knew my parents and were also in mourning. They had all said how sorry they were and how they would miss them. I’d forgotten that Marty had never met my parents.
“Well, they were pretty cool – for parents. Mum was an office manager and she liked gardening and going on holidays and having her nails done. Dad had his own business with his friend Sam; they did something with property, investments and finance – I never really understood it, but then Dad said as I couldn’t make my pocket money last, I probably shouldn’t pursue a career in finance. Dad loved golf but was terrible at it, and he supported Spurs.” I smiled in spite of myself. “They were really happy people, Mum used to moan if I let my laundry bin overflow, and Dad had banned me from learning to drive in his car since I nearly hit the wall reversing off the driveway, but in general, we were a really happy family.” My tears had stopped.
“They sound like my kind of people. Would you like me to stay with you while you open this box?”
“I may cry again, and if my nose starts running too, things could get messy!” It felt right to make a joke this time. Marty reached out behind him with his muscular arms and grabbed a roll of kitchen towel.
“Problem sorted. Cry all you want, this is super absorbent!” Marty smiled, and dimples appeared in his cheeks. Despite the sadness of the previous weeks, I chuckled. I hadn’t heard myself giggle since the accident; I’d only managed sarcastic snorts of forced laughter. It was time to finally say goodbye to my parents, forever.
My hands trembled as I pulled the lid off the box. It contained Mum’s handbag, Dad’s wallet, a car key, and two wedding rings.
“May I?” Marty indicated to the car key and I nodded. He picked it up gently, examining the key fob. It contained a photo of my parents and I, taken at a theme park several years ago – the kind they take at the most exciting part of the ride and charge a fortune for – this one had been taken on a log flume. I had this photo memorised, my dad and I were laughing hysterically whilst my mother was scowling, having just been soaked by the ride and ruining her hair style. We’d all laughed about it afterwards, it had been a great day.
“What do I do with the car key? I mean, do I keep it, even though the car doesn’t exist anymore? I’m not sure I can bring myself to throw it away.”
“Why don’t you put it somewhere safe, it isn’t going to take up a lot of room, and you definitely need to keep this key fob – it’s a great photo! You don’t have to throw away anything that belonged to your parents, if you don’t want to.” Marty handed me the key.
“I’ll put it in the cutlery drawer with the spare key – you’re right, it won’t do any harm to keep it for a while.” I walked across to the drawer where my mother had always kept not just knives and forks, but keys, screwdrivers, spare batteries for the remote control and anything else that looked useful. I had intended to put my dad’s key with the spare, but after searching through the drawer, I couldn’t find it. “The spare key isn’t in here, I wonder if Mum took it with her? Dad had a habit of misplacing his keys and it used to really annoy her.”
“It could be in her handbag. Do you want me to leave whilst you look?”
“Why would I want you to leave?”
“A woman’s handbag can be private territory, I wouldn’t want to invade your mum’s privacy.” Marty’s cheeks flushed as he spoke.
“Marty, you’re a medical student, you can’t possibly be embarrassed that my mum might have tampons in her handbag!” I started giggling again.
“Point taken, go on then.”
I unbuc
kled the clasp, lifted a flap and unzipped the main compartment of the handbag. I pulled out Mum’s purse, a mobile phone (completely out of power), lip gloss, several receipts and shopping lists, some sweets and a comb. There was also a zipped inner compartment in the handbag. I pulled out a handful of items from this compartment and started placing them on the table. Suddenly, it was my turn to blush with embarrassment, as condoms scattered out of my hand.
“Oh my God, Mother! How gross!” I felt mortified, sitting at the kitchen table with a man I’d only known for a few days, with a handful of my parents’ condoms spread out in front of us. Marty’s belly laugh almost shocked me; it was loud, yet beautiful, as it rippled around the room. I wanted the ground to swallow me up and hid my face with my hands.
“Claudia, don’t hide; I think it is sweet that your parents still had a physical, loving relationship! And your reaction is priceless!”
“Physical, loving relationship!” I burst out laughing. “Saying it that way is almost funnier than finding the condoms! I can’t believe this – and the fact that she had them in her handbag means they must have had sex outside of the house! It gets worse!” It felt good to laugh, even though I was thoroughly embarrassed, too.
We continued to sift through the belongings, finding nothing out of the ordinary, and certainly nothing as embarrassing as the condoms. I tried on Mum’s wedding ring and discovered that it fit my ring finger on my right hand perfectly, which I decided was where it should stay. Dad’s ring was too big for me, even on my thumb or my middle finger, so I stored it in my jewellery box.
Chapter 2
I’d felt tired after going through the box of my parents’ possessions, but also lighter than I’d felt in ages. Marty was heading off for a lecture, so I had the house to myself. Thinking it would be good to laugh some more, I settled down on the sofa to watch a comedy.
The next thing I knew, a gentle hand was tapping my shoulder. My eyes fluttered open and Marty’s face was in front of me, his smile broadening as he watched me wake up. He was kneeling on the floor next to the sofa.
“I’m sorry to wake you up, Claudia. I let you sleep as long as I could.”
“What time is it?” I felt groggy; it had been mid-afternoon when I’d settled down to watch the film, and now the curtains were closed and the room was filled with the subtle glow of the lamp on the coffee table. A soft blanket had been placed over me to stop me getting cold. I clearly had a very thoughtful lodger.
“It’s nearly eight. I’m heading out to the pub to meet some friends, I wondered if you wanted to come with me?”
“It’s really nice of you to offer, but I don’t think I’d be very good company at the moment.” Being out in public wasn’t high on my agenda.
“You haven’t been out of this house in days. It’s time.” He wasn’t forceful, but I couldn’t say no to him. His blue eyes held my gaze. I knew he was right. He could see me thinking it through and a smile began to crinkle at the edges of his lips. “I’ll even treat you to a drink!” he whispered.
“You know how to twist a girl’s arm,” I groaned, giving him a mocking grimace in return to his growing smile. “Give me a few minutes to make myself presentable.” As I tried to stand up, the blanket caught on my legs, causing me to trip and begin falling. I felt Marty’s strong arms encase me as he broke my fall.
“Are you OK?” His arms remained tightly wrapped around my body. I’d never been this close to him and the physical contact made me blush. I could breathe in his scent and feel his heartbeat under his shirt. My own heartbeat began speeding up.
“I’m fine, I just seem to be really clumsy today; that’s the second time you’ve saved me from falling. Thank you.” I was telling myself to move, to relieve his arms from holding on to me, but my body wasn’t obeying.
“It’s what I’m here for.” Marty carefully placed me back on my feet and untangled the blanket from my legs. I was blushing so much that I probably resembled a tomato.
“I’ll be back in five minutes.” I raced out of the room, running all the way to my sanctuary and beheld myself in the mirror. In some ways I was quite lucky. I’d inherited my mum’s slim figure and copper hair, and my dad’s dark brown eyes. I wouldn’t have said I was really beautiful, but I was fairly happy with my looks – some people seem to do nothing but moan about how they look. Unfortunately, my complexion turned red easily and I also tended to burn in the sun and, true to form, I was looking positively scarlet at the moment. I quickly pulled a brush through my hair, which I decided I would wear down. I applied a coat of mascara (waterproof, of course; tears were still a possibility in my emotional state), a slick of lip gloss and changed my t-shirt for a slim fitting, v-neck cardigan. The pub was about a ten minute walk away – not far enough to book a taxi, but too far to walk in heels, so I decided on ballet pumps. Being less than average height, I enjoyed wearing heels, but I also preferred to be comfortable over being in pain. A quick spritz of perfume and I was ready. I grabbed my handbag, checked I had money, identification and keys, and hurried back down the stairs to Marty. He was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, no doubt ready to catch me if I fell again.
We walked briskly, as the night was getting a chill in the air. Leaves rustled beneath our feet and the stars shone above our heads. I asked Marty about his friends that we were meeting, and I started to feel nervous about being out in a crowd. I used to love going out with my friends, but life was so different now. The carefree, outgoing girl had been replaced by a lost and fearful recluse.
“Don’t be anxious, Claudia.” Marty must have felt the shift in my feelings from excitement to nervousness.
“This feels like a huge step for me.”
“You’ll be surrounded by friends – me, Russ, Belinda, James. They’ll really like you. Oh, and Ben – can’t forget him – he’ll love you.”
“You have a lot of faith in both your friends and me. Do they know about my parents?” I didn’t want to be the poor, pitied orphan, but I also didn’t want people to misinterpret any quietness on my part.
“I told them before I came to live with you. I hope you don’t mind. I thought you’d prefer not to have to tell everybody, and that way they’ll know why you might be a little bit quiet.” Again, it was like Marty had read the thoughts inside my head.
We’d arrived at the pub. The sound of music and chatter floated out into the street and a huddle of people smoking pinpointed the entrance. I took a deep and slightly smoky breath, as I prepared to leave my social coma.
Marty held the door open for me, then placed his hand on my back to gently guide me to a table of fresh faced students. He introduced me to them all, and they returned my shy smile with friendly grins. They all seemed so at ease, so welcoming and animated, that I started to relax. I sat next to Belinda, the only girl in the group, whilst Marty and one of his friends went to the bar. She was very chatty, making it easy on me to avoid having to inject too much into the conversation – some people would have said she was too chatty, but the last thing I needed to cope with were awkward gaps in the conversation. She was studying biology, hoping to find a cure for cancer, and she had a lisp which made her sound younger than she was. She also told me she was the designated driver tonight and she didn’t enjoy watching everyone else making fools of themselves – particularly James – her tall, blond boyfriend who was training to be a PE teacher. He was on his sixth pint of lager already and slurring his words. Next to him sat Russ, who was on the same course as James, and the same number of pints.
“What time did you all come out?” I had finally thought of a question to ask Belinda.
“Oh, they started at home – we’ve only been here about an hour. If they get much worse, I’m taking them home. Russ puked in the car park of The Golden Lion last week; I don’t want them in that state again – can you imagine if one of them was sick in my car? I would not be happy!” Belinda cackled to herself. “I don’t thi
nk it would strengthen our relationship – oh, look, another Diet Coke headed my way!”
I turned round to see Marty and Ben carrying drinks over to our table. I had expected Marty to take the empty chair next to me but, to my surprise, Ben sat there, and passed a large glass of red wine to me.
“I thought you might need this after listening to Belinda for five minutes straight. She’s a great girl, but she doesn’t stop for breath! I’m Ben, by the way.” I was worried he might have offended Belinda, but due to the noise of the music in the pub, she appeared not to have heard.
“Claudia,” I said, introducing myself. “Thanks for the drink.”
“No problem, Marty said you liked red wine. You know, you look incredibly familiar, do I know you from somewhere?” Ben’s grey eyes studied my face.
“I just started at the university, but I went to school down the road.”
“I went to an all boys’ school, so I don’t think that is it!” His chuckle helped me to relax. “What is your surname?”
“Lee. Yours?”
“Ah, now I know, my dad is Sam Acton – your dad’s business partner. You look a lot like your mum. Well, like she did. Oh, crap, I haven’t upset you have I?” His eyes searched my face and I could see his cheeks burning.
“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll have to get used to it. It’s nice that you knew my parents.”
“I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t be allowed a drink, I forget to filter the words coming out of my mouth. I really, really didn’t mean to upset you.” He looked mortified that he could have caused me offence. I thought he was quite handsome in a boyish way, as he slapped his forehead with his palm. “Your first night out since it happened and you end up chatting with me, Mr Put-Your-Foot-In-Your-Mouth!”
“Would you stop beating yourself up? I’m fine, it’s fine, you’re fine. Let’s talk about something else.” I placed my hand on Ben’s arm to stop him slapping his forehead again. Across the table, Marty was watching. He smiled at me, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He had a slightly confused look – I’d never seen him look anything other than completely self-assured before. “How do you know Marty?”