I breathe in with shallow breaths as I realize the thing I’ve been avoiding all this time, the truth that I’ve been refusing to confront. I love Cassie. I love her in a way that’s different to friendship. I love her and I’m in love with her and it’s crept up on me in the past two years and I should have felt it coming and I didn’t. I feel like a mosquito suspended in amber, something frozen in time, all my thoughts swirling around my head, finally understanding everything, finally understanding the meaning of things people had said to me, assumptions people had made. The pain that other people could see before I could. The fear that Cassie can see it too.
‘Hey,’ she says, putting her arm around me, which makes me jump in surprise and then shrink in fear. ‘Are you alright?’
I turn back to her, not wanting to cry. ‘Yeah. I’m alright.’ A real new thing. Acknowledging that I’m in love with Cassie.
On the bus back to Weston Bay, I lean my head against the grimy glass, close my eyes and just sit and think. For the first time I let myself look the whole situation in the face. It makes me feel tired, the idea of having to do something about it. The pressure of living differently. But it’s all academic, because the one thing I would never want to do is compromise my friendship with Cassie.
To tell her how I feel and be rejected … to have her know that I love her and never be able to unsay it … it would pollute every interaction we ever have from now on. Unthinkable. I can’t lose her. Not to time, not to distance, not to a guy, not to anything. And what about Cal? How can I feel so attracted to him if I know how I feel about Cassie?
I get off the bus a stop later than I usually would and walk round to Uncle Michael and Mark’s house. We’re having a highly informal tea and cake round at theirs to celebrate their wedding anniversary. We all mutually agreed it was – gasp – too hot for a roast, so we figured cake on a Saturday is just as good as roast on Sunday. As well as keeping up appearances for my whole family, I’ve also got the Daisy situation to contend with. I would very much rather curl up in a ball and fall asleep. Focus on getting through tea first. Then figure out how to bury the fact that I’m completely in love with my best friend in the whole wide world, who almost definitely doesn’t feel the same way about me.
Gran answers the door. ‘Good timing, Lil – I just made a chocolate cake with that chocolate buttercream filling you like. It was funny using someone else’s kitchen, but I did my best …’
‘Hi, Gran,’ I say, but she’s already halfway to the kitchen to retrieve the cake.
‘Hello, baby!’ Mum trills from the living room.
When I enter, Uncle Michael and Mark are side by side on the sofa, holding hands and watching a quiz show on TV. ‘Alright, Lily?’ they say simultaneously, standing to greet me. I feel sad to disturb the serenity of the moment with my presence. They look so uncomplicatedly happy. It melts me a bit.
‘Happy anniversary!’ I say, enveloping them in a group hug. ‘I can’t believe you’ve been married for four years, isn’t that mad?’
‘It honestly feels like it was yesterday,’ Uncle Michael says, sitting back down on the sofa.
‘You and Daisy in those sweet matching yellow dresses.’ Mark closes his eyes in delight and clutches his chest.
‘We were thirteen! A decidedly un-cute age.’
‘No!’ Michael protests. ‘You two are always the sweetest little things, however old you are.’
‘Aren’t you, Dais?’ Mark nudges Daisy who’s emerged from the kitchen with a tray full of cups and little slices of perfect chocolate sponge.
‘Oh, hi, Lily. I didn’t know you were here,’ she says coldly, setting the china down on the coffee table before returning to the kitchen. Michael and Mark frown at Mum in the armchair and then look at me for an explanation, but I just shrug as if it’s a mystery to me. I instantly hate myself for the betrayal but I’m not going to make tonight all about me and Daisy.
We eat our cake and watch the quiz show, Mark shouting answers between mouthfuls. ‘Vanuatu!’ and ‘Jeremy Bentham!’ and ‘Beryllium!’
‘Where do you store all this information?’ Uncle Michael marvels, shaking his head at Mark.
‘Aren’t you glad you married a genius?’
‘Even if you weren’t a genius I would still be glad I married you, because you’re so bloody kind,’ he says, kissing him on the side of the head.
‘Anyone would have been a step up from Jason, though,’ Mum says, rolling her eyes. ‘He was a right old whiner.’
‘And he was so rude to that waiter that time we all went for dinner up in London, don’t you remember, Luce?’ Gran turns to Mum for back-up.
‘Course I remember! Acting like it was his fault they were out of pheasant or whatever random meat he wanted. Awful man.’
‘I was young! He was rich!’ Michael wails.
‘You weren’t that young,’ Gran scoffs.
‘Yeah, you were literally in your thirties,’ Mum says, reaching across from her armchair and poking her brother in the arm.
Mark is clearly loving it. ‘Well, thank god I sat next to you on the night bus home from Pride all those years ago, is all I’m saying.’
The mention of Pride brings the homophobic posters crashing into my brain. And with it comes the realization that they are also targeting … me. First I was outraged on behalf of all the LGBTQIA+ people in my town. And now I guess I’m one of them. The thought leaves me with my forkful of cake suspended in mid-air, my mouth open, sat on the shaggy carpet rug beside Daisy. I sense Daisy’s eyes on me, but when I look at her, she averts her gaze.
‘Oh!’ I remember Cassie’s card. I retrieve it from my bag where I’ve stored it in the back cover of a book so it didn’t get bent. ‘This is from Cassie,’ I say, handing it over to my uncle. He brushes the crumbs off his hands and takes it from me. He opens it and shows it to Mark. It’s handmade, bold and graphic pieces of cut-out paper spelling HAPPY ANNIVERSARY in vivid, blocky writing. She has a way of making everything look cool and modern and unstudied, from her clothes to her cards.
‘What a great girl she is. It’s so sweet of her to think of us,’ Uncle Michael says warmly, getting up from the sofa to put the card on the mantelpiece.
As if he knows that Cassie and dating are related, Mark asks Mum, ‘How’s your dating life going, Luce?’
Mum blushes. ‘Well …’
‘Well what?!’ Michael demands, enthused.
‘I was going to ask you two,’ she says, turning her head to where Daisy and I are sitting side by side. ‘If you wouldn’t mind staying in tomorrow night. I’ve asked him round for dinner.’
‘Bloody hell, you sly dog!’ Michael shakes his head in mock disapproval.
‘Who is this man? Is he the one from the … app?’ Gran ventures, trying out her recently acquired technological knowledge.
‘Actually yes,’ Mum says quietly. ‘His name is Tony and he’s very nice and that’s all I’ll say on the matter.’
‘Well, I’ll be there,’ Daisy says. ‘Who knows if Lily can make time in her busy schedule.’
‘You don’t need to worry about me, Daisy,’ I say, sickly sweet, almost glad of the stupid distraction from what’s going on in my head. ‘You know I’ve always got time for the fair and equal pursuit of love.’
‘Thanks girls,’ says Mum, swallowing the last of her cake and choosing to ignore whatever’s going on between us.
I look at Cassie’s card on the mantelpiece and am filled with pride at knowing her. At the thought that she chose me to be her best friend. I shouldn’t want to disrupt that. I don’t want to disrupt that. I won’t disrupt that.
Once we get home Mum settles in to do some reading in the living room, Crystal perched around her neck like a scarf. I’m about to join them when Daisy pads into the room and sits next to Mum. Instinctively, my body tenses. I don’t really know how to behave around her. I start to head towards the door.
‘So you girls are OK to meet Tony? I know it’s soon, but I guess I just don�
��t want to get too invested in him if you two think he’s no good,’ Mum says, halting my escape.
‘That’s a lot of responsibility,’ I say.
‘It’s not that,’ she says. ‘It’s just that I think you’re good judges of character. And you’re the most important people in my life.’
‘Well, it’ll be an honour to judge his character,’ I say, plucking up the courage to look directly at Daisy, who nods in assent. One thing that can guarantee our cooperation: Mum. I stretch out my arms so Crystal disembarks from around my mum’s neck and comes to me.
‘We were always seeing each other tomorrow night, but I asked if he wanted to come here rather than us driving out to that pub with the fancy restaurant in it, you know the one …’ Mum says, casting about for the name. ‘He seemed a bit wary at first, I guess because it is quite soon.’
‘You gotta do what you gotta do,’ I say decisively.
‘I hope you like him.’
‘Same,’ I say, stroking Crystal’s fluffy tail.
‘Oh! There was something else I wanted to talk to you girls about.’
‘Uh-oh,’ I say.
‘It’s about Crystal.’
‘Oh my god, what’s wrong?’ Daisy gasps.
‘Nothing’s wrong – as you can see she’s in perfect health. We’ve done a really good job of looking after her.’
‘So?’ Daisy urges.
‘It’s time for Crystal to go back to her real home,’ says Mum. ‘I didn’t want to say too much at the time, but Crystal came from a woman who had been bringing her in for a while, whose husband was …’ She clears her throat and touches her nose – a familiar nervous tic. ‘Abusive. Violent. She wanted to leave him but didn’t want to leave Crystal with him, and she knew she would find it hard to get somewhere to live if she had a cat with her. So I said I would look after her until things were more stable. That’s why she’s not allowed outside – we didn’t want her to find her way home or for him to see her on the street.’
I feel a lump in my throat. For Crystal, and for her owner, and for my mum.
‘So she’s found somewhere to live?’
‘Yes, she’s got a place now, in another town, where some of her family live, and she can have Crystal back.’
We don’t say anything for a moment. Crystal leaps down off my lap and curls up between my mum and Daisy.
‘I’ve got to wrestle her into her carrier on Monday and drive her to a service station down the motorway after I’m finished at the surgery.’
‘We’ll miss you, Crystal,’ I say. Daisy strokes her in her little dip in the sofa where the two cushions meet.
‘She’ll miss you, too,’ Mum says.
I retreat to my room. I’m itching to paint. I get out my acrylics and put some old newspaper down on the floor so I don’t wreck the carpet. My art teacher used to put on classical music while the A level students were working because she thought it would calm and inspire us, so I find a classical music playlist and flick through all of the tracks until I find one that I recognize and makes me feel at home. I settle on Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 and start putting lines on the page, building the structure and fleshing out the outline and softening it. I try not to think so hard, and add depth and shadow, making it more real and making it perfect and making it human. Making it Cassie. The person who’s always on my mind.
I’ve always said I don’t like to paint or draw people because I think it’ll reveal something about me on the page. Maybe this is the thing I’ve been scared of revealing, even to myself.
I’m in love with Cassie. I’m in love with Cassie. And I’ve always been in love with Cassie. Cal is wonderful in so many ways and I’m so attracted to him. But he’s not her. She’s all there is.
Does this mean I’m gay? I mean … it can’t, right? I fancy Cal. I fancy Cal a lot. But that just doesn’t eclipse what feel for Cassie. It’s like it’s all those feelings can be happening at the same time, but it’s what I feel for Cassie that burns brightest. I guess that means I’m … bi. I’m bi. I am bisexual. That’s me. That’s the answer.
It’s Cal I should be friends with and Cassie I should be in a relationship with – I’ve had it the wrong way round the whole time.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
At Cal’s the next day, I am paralysed by guilt. I am crushingly aware that it’s wrong of me to keep seeing him, knowing how I feel about Cassie. But something keeps me there and keeps me silent. I like being in his company. It feels comfortable, and we have fun together, and it’s a place where I don’t have to think too much.
We watch a film on his laptop and drink some fancy beer he bought at a fancy craft beer place in town. We have sex again, and it’s great, but I just can’t keep my brain engaged. But amid all my fears and anxieties, Cal doesn’t make me panic.
‘I can’t believe the weekend is almost over,’ I say as I’m getting dressed again.
‘Check you out with your stable ice-cream salesperson lifestyle! Weekends don’t mean a thing when you work shifts.’
‘Ha! Yeah, I guess, I hadn’t thought of that.’
‘What did you get up to yesterday?’ Cal asks.
‘I went for a picnic with Cassie on the beach in Seaforth,’ I say, but as soon as I say it I wonder if it’s setting off some kind of alarm bells in him, like her name suddenly sounds different in my mouth. So I continue, ‘Then stopped off to see my uncle and his husband – the ones who run the Lighthouse – it was their anniversary.’ I fasten my bra and wiggle it into place.
‘Fun, at least more fun than a Saturday in the school holidays!’
‘Sorry I can’t stick around,’ I say, ruefully.
‘No, it’s totally fine, it’s a big night! I hope Tony’s a good guy.’
‘Same. At least it’s a good entry for my Summer of New Things: meet a man my mum is dating.’
‘Look, if you ever need more inspo for your new things, just ask. It’s a cute project!’
‘Here’s one: do you want to do something tomorrow?’ I ask. I feel like it’s not good for me to spend too much time with Cassie right now. And given I can’t hang out with Daisy these days …
‘Wow! That doesn’t sound like you!’ Cal laughs good-naturedly, pulling his T-shirt on over his head. ‘Asking me out … truly a new thing!’
‘Sorry about that,’ I say with a blush. ‘That’s why I’m doing this whole project …’
‘Look, it’s fine. And I’m working tomorrow night but could do Tuesday?’
‘Let’s do Tuesday, then.’
The knowledge that at the end of the summer we’ll go our separate ways is making everything feel a bit easier, a bit less high-risk. And it’s not like I don’t enjoy hanging out with him. And I don’t not enjoy sleeping with him. It’s all just floating along on a limited timeline. And besides, it’s easier to deal with being with him because I don’t have all the feelings I have for Cassie: the thorny, uncomfortable, difficult feelings that feel like they’re going to suffocate me and wrap me up in a cosy blanket at the same time.
On the way home, trying to convince myself everything is still just fine and normal, I text Cassie about meeting Mum’s new man tonight. Even writing a text has become impossible: I write and rewrite it, just to make extra sure it sounds like nothing’s changed.
What starts as:
Hey you! Huge news, meeting Mum’s internet bf today, hope he’s good enough for her. How are you / what are you up to / can’t wait to see you tomorrow for another day of TOIL AND FUN xx
Becomes:
Huge news, meeting Mum’s internet bf today, hope he’s good enough for her. Will tell you about it tomorrow either way.
Am I going to have to live like this forever now?
When I get home, the house smells amazing, a chicken roasting in the oven and Mum looking like a slightly more groomed version of her usual beautiful self.
‘Thank god you’re here!’ she exclaims. ‘I thought you forgot. Having too much fun with your own mystery man, I assume.’
‘As if! I’ve got to meet this guy so I can report back to Uncle Michael about whether he’s any good for you,’ I say with a naughty grin. She swats me with a towel.
I run upstairs to shower and change. I can hear Daisy in her room. I don’t think things will go back to normal until we talk everything through properly. And there’s no sign of that happening any time soon. So I may have to actually do something about this. At least for tonight. Once I’m dressed, I present myself in Daisy’s room whether she wants me to or not. We have to create a united front in support of Mum tonight.
‘Look, I accept there’s still …’ I gesture messily between us from the doorframe. ‘Whatever’s going on here. But we can’t make it weird for Mum. Right?’
Daisy sighs languidly. ‘Right.’
I breathe a sigh of relief. ‘So,’ I say, sliding onto her bed while she pulls a T-shirt on in front of the mirror. ‘What do you think this guy will be like? Good? Awful? Hideous?’
‘Honestly, I have no idea. It’s not like we have anything to compare him to, either. We have no track record to judge him by, or to predict what he’ll be like. This is a whole new world.’
‘It’s true,’ I say. God it feels good just to talk to her again. ‘Well, fingers crossed he’s the love of her life.’
‘Shall we go downstairs and loiter in the living room?’ she proposes.
‘Alright,’ I say, and follow her down to the sofa where we sit side by side, identical twins but completely different. It doesn’t take long for a figure to advance down the front path and ring the doorbell.
‘Mum, your gentleman caller’s here!’ I yell to her in the kitchen.
‘Keep your voice down, you little maniac!’ Mum says as she dashes past the living room to open the front door, her long, fair hair swinging behind her like a sail.
I hear them exchange greetings, and it sounds relaxed even though meeting the family is a bold new frontier in any relationship. Daisy and I look at each other awkwardly, unsure if we’re meant to wait here or go out there to say hello, so we just wait on the sofa in a kind of uncomfortable forward-lean in case we’re called upon to get up. We listen, holding our breath, as Mum and the man exchange pleasantries in the hall, and it takes so long that we burst into a nervous giggle. Our first shared laugh for a long time. Finally they appear in the living room, so I spring to my feet to say hello to— Señor Mango Sorbet?! I instinctively reach into my pocket for my phone before remembering, firstly, that it’s upstairs, and secondly, it would be incredibly rude of me to text Cassie before I’ve even uttered a word to him.
Melt My Heart Page 13