Anyway, I don’t push the sex thing – that wouldn’t be right – but there’s one thing I can’t keep to myself. I don’t want her to work in that lousy place anymore. I don’t know how it’s my place to tell her because I have no right to ask, I just know that if she goes back there, I’ll be pissed. I like how she challenges me; I’ve always liked that side of her. Her traces of fragility, her pride, the way she tells me to fuck off just like that, the combative look on her face, the force with which she clenches her fists and prepares to go up against the world. I like it, it attracts me, it makes me feel even more like fighting back. But the fact remains that she can’t go back there. I can’t bear the thought of Grant bothering her again. I can’t stand that anyone would look at her and imagine a thousand and one ways to slip into her underwear. I can’t let her do it, though it’s still not clear to me why I have all these thoughts that turn my mind into a house ripped apart by a tornado, why I have this insatiable hunger for her, this need to protect her.
And I especially don’t know why I have this urge to tell her everything about myself. Penny asks and I answer. I can’t hold my tongue with her, not in any sense at all. I tell her about the ring, this silver nothing that I wear around my neck in memory of the only innocent thing my mother left me, the only thing that wasn’t bought with the cash from some passing john, and that included my father. But Penny listens to me, and she always listens with an attention that seems one hundred per cent sincere. She speaks to me that way too, and her words remind me of things, of moments set aside at the bottom of a drawer.
She listens to me, and speaks to me, and then falls asleep, and I pick her up in my arms and carry her through to bed, leaving the TV on, buzzing in the background. I should leave now, I should walk straight out that door, or climb over the windowsill.
Damn it, Marcus, get out of here. You’ve done everything you can do. You’d be crazy to do anymore. A real loser.
It’s all true, but when, in spite of myself, I decide to stay and lie on the bed next to her and watch her breathe, I don’t feel like I’m losing something. I feel like I’m on the edge of that great abyss, perched on the very last sliver of it, but I remain suspended there and I don’t back away, I don’t go back to safety, because I have the impression that if I did then I really would be a loser.
So I stay awake like I promised, just in case the hospital calls, and wonder what will happen tomorrow, and the day after that, and what turn my life will take, what sense it will gain, what choices I’ll have to make – and if I’m up to making them, or if I’ll be too afraid. I don’t sleep – I sleep very little these days, just pick up a few hours here and there and not even every night. I’m up until dawn. No one calls. I leave before she wakes up, with a powerful feeling that the abyss will be the beginning of something – and the end of me and who I was.
23
Early the next morning she took the bus to the hospital. Marcus had left at some point after she’d fallen asleep, and Penny decided not to call or involve him. She didn’t want to get used to needing him for small things, like getting a ride somewhere that she could easily reach by public transport. She needed to get organised with work, outings, caring for her grandma. He had nothing to do with her life; he was a passing gift, a dazzling sun that wouldn’t shine forever. Soon he’d go away, taking with him everything she had been in those two months. Penny in love for the first time. Penny becoming a woman. Penny suddenly full of hopes and wishes she’d never had before. Penny with a body that could feel pleasure instead of always feeling like the ugly duckling. Penny with a boundless tenderness for the very last person she would ever have dreamed would arouse her heart and all her senses – someone who looked like some barbaric warrior or dragon-tamer. Penny the little princess, desired, caressed, touched, seen at last as a grown woman. The same Penny who would soon need to open up a heavy trunk, plunge into it, and let herself be forgotten like an old wedding dress stored in mothballs.
She had to get used to it, and so she went out under a relentless rain.
Her grandma was awake. The news from the doctor was heartening. No fatal consequences, fortunately – perhaps even by some miracle. She’d still need to stay in the hospital for a few days, and once she was home she’d have to take a mountain of drugs.
Penny wept at the sight of the extremely pale Barbie, so close to her in looks except for her long, now slightly dishevelled hair. ‘Thank you for staying here with me,’ she whispered, though Barbie couldn’t make it out through her sobs.
‘I think I was a little sick,’ her grandma said with a jaunty smile. ‘Maybe I ate too much birthday cake, but you only turn eighteen once.’
‘Well, eat a little less next time, all right?’ Penny whispered. ‘You have to stay here for a few days so you can rest and get back on your feet, and then we’ll go home.’
‘All right, but you make sure to lock the door at night and have Marcus keep you company.’
‘Do you remember Marcus?’ asked Penny, a little disturbed at her grandma’s selective memory. She had just said she was an eighteen-year-old girl who had had too much cake, just back from the revelry of her own birthday party, but Marcus was still there in her thoughts.
‘Of course, darling, he’s that handsome boy who lives upstairs. The one who’s so in love with you.’
‘Er . . . yes . . .’ Penny mumbled. It would have been better if she had forgotten him so Penny wouldn’t have to explain why he was gone in a few days’ time.
She left the hospital a couple of hours later, quieter and more hopeful. The rain fell and stopped and then fell again. Bundled up in her red duffel coat with the hood up and her bright green lock of hair peeking out, she thought of the doctor’s last words. Barbie could not be left alone; she now needed supervision 24/7. A return to Well Purple was therefore out of the question, and she would need to find another job. A neighbour could keep Barbie company during the day, and she was sure that the ladies in the building would willingly lend her a hand, but there was no one who could help her at night without pay. In the end, Marcus had won.
She did not immediately realise where she was going until she found herself in front of the window with the smiling golden cat. The Gold Cat was packed at that hour. Its retro air, with its mustard-yellow wallpaper decorated with psychedelic flowers, and the large pendant lights, Formica shelves and, along the walls, numerous movie posters from the Seventies, attracted a young and lively clientele. Sherrie waited on tables, assisted by a lady in her forties dressed in a similar yellow dress and with an identical cotton-candy hairdo. Many of the clients were women, and Penny thought they must feel comfortable in an environment run by other women who were neither young nor beautiful, which didn’t foster a competitive environment.
Sherrie recognised her immediately and went to greet her with a smile.
‘Come on in, honey, there’s a free table for you. I’ll be right over.’
Penny sat between the counter and a golden jukebox that may or may not have just been for show. She scanned the menu, but she wasn’t there to eat. After a while Sherrie approached her table, as bouncy as any twenty-year-old, and the first thing she said to her was, ‘Isn’t Marcus with you?’
Penny blushed like a girl caught red-handed just as she’s about to kiss a photo of her favourite star. ‘Er . . . no.’
‘That’s a pity. I wanted to ask him a favour. I got a delivery this morning and wanted to ask him to bring it home for me. It’s a little heavy and I know he has a car now. So how are you?’
Penny shrugged; she was so tired that this one ridiculous little movement felt like an earthquake in her body. In a few words she told Sherrie about her grandma, and the kind-hearted waitress, who for some mysterious reason seemed to have a soft spot for her, sat down beside her and squeezed her arm with her small, bony hand.
‘Oh, my darling, she’ll get better soon, you’ll see. The worst is definitely over.’
‘I hope you’re right, but she’s the only person I have in
the world and I have this crazy fear of losing her.’
‘You have Marcus. He’ll help you. He has broad shoulders and a huge heart. You have your grandma, but you have him too now. And me, if you’d like.’
Penny looked at her like a frightened child might stare at a picture of her absent mother, and then suddenly and without warning, her cheeks felt hot and her eyes filled with tears. Because this woman, a former prostitute who should have had a million and one reasons to be cynical, was instead one of the sweetest people she had ever met. Affection from her was a most generous and wonderful gift, but even more wonderful was her taking for granted that Marcus wanted to give Penny his affection too. Neither Sherrie nor Mr Malkovich seemed to have the least idea what Marcus actually planned to do with his future. Did they really think he would stay in this city and become a prisoner of the rat race just to be with her? She was almost tempted to tell Sherrie, to explain to her using the same tone as an adult would in telling a child the truth about the tooth fairy, that magic mirrors, princesses with the glass slippers, and beanstalks reaching for the sky all cease to exist when people grow up. But Sherrie was so convinced and so romantic in her outlook that it seemed cruel to disappoint her, so Penny kept her mouth shut and ordered the cheesecake.
When Sherrie returned with the most enormous slice smothered in blueberries, Penny mustered up her courage and asked, ‘Do you need another waitress here?’
Sherrie immediately grasped the meaning of her question and smiled at her kindly. ‘You need a job?’
‘Yes, but I can’t start for a few days. I’m available once my grandma settles down a little. D’you think you could find something for me?’
‘I’ll talk to Lorna about it and let you know, but I think so. Where there’s room for two, there’s room for three. And if you’re special to Marcus, you’re special to me too.’
Penny thanked her, her eyes wide and limpid and so full of gratitude that Sherrie gave her a gentle pat on the head before going to wait on a table that had been calling her over.
As Penny ate the cheesecake more eagerly now, reassured by the hope of finding a job, she heard her phone ring. She rummaged among the usual millions of things that filled her bag, and somehow wasn’t the slightest bit surprised to see Igor’s name on the display. She answered after a moment’s hesitation, and for a while they chatted about this and that. Suddenly Igor said, all in one breath, ‘So are you coming with me to the theatre or what?’
‘What?’
‘Tomorrow night is the premiere of the show I did the scenography for. Will you be my date?’
‘Er . . . I . . . can’t. My grandma’s in hospital and . . .’
Igor asked a few sensible questions about what had happened, then finally said, ‘Maybe a distraction would be good for you. You can’t be at the hospital after visiting hours anyway, can you? We’ll have a good time together, and that way you won’t be home alone. What do you think?’
‘Actually, I . . .’
‘I get it. The problem is not so much your grandma as Marcus. He’s keeping you company, I guess. I’ll confess, I had hoped you’d finished with him, but clearly you’re still together.’
‘No, he has nothing to do with it, but . . .’ She stopped. As if the mere utterance of his name had conjured up his presence, Marcus, wet with rain, now plopped down opposite her at the same table. A sulky expression on his face, he was staring openly at her. He was wearing a dark blue waterproof jacket with a flame-red zipper. He was holding his customary pack of Chesterfields and flipped it to extract a cigarette, which he put to his lips, although he didn’t light it. Penny remained silent for a moment.
‘Are you still there?’ Igor asked.
‘Yes, I’m here, just . . .’
She heard a sigh from the other end of the phone. ‘All right, I understand, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.’
‘You should invite another girl.’
‘I don’t want to invite another girl, I want to invite you.’
‘But it doesn’t make sense to wait for—’
As always, his reply was cheerful but firm. ‘Penny, I’ve been waiting for you for over six years now. I can wait another day. You never know – miracles do happen. I’m not giving up that easily.’
She hung up, embarrassed by what Igor had said, which had made her blush a little, and noticed that Marcus was still watching her. He leaned on the table with one elbow, chin on hand, and fiddled with his cigarette, nervously flicking it against the Formica.
‘Hi,’ she said simply. She was sitting with her back against the wall, facing into the room, and couldn’t help but notice that the looks of all the other customers, without exception, were aimed at him. Smiles, elbow nudges, murmurs, salacious comments for sure. One chick was licking her yoghurt spoon slowly and suggestively. Penny wondered if Marcus had noticed, and what Francisca usually made of it: could she bear this weight of desire that exuded from all the strangers who looked at him, as if they wanted to strip him naked with their thoughts – and then with their teeth? But then she realised that Francisca no doubt attracted similar looks wherever she went, from any red-blooded male under the age of ninety. They were alike in that way – such a stunning couple.
‘You been to the hospital?’ Marcus asked, breaking the silence in a strange voice, as if the growl of a wolf lay barely concealed behind his attempt at kindness. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Yeah, more or less.’
‘I could have driven you. Just ask me next time.’
‘I wish I could say how kind you are, but the tone of your voice is scaring me.’
Marcus lit his cigarette, paying scant attention to the ‘No Smoking’ sign that shone in red letters like a traffic light on the wall right over his head.
‘Were you talking to Igor?’ he asked her between two inhalations of smoke, while Penny picked at the remains of her cheesecake.
‘Yeah, I was.’
‘I tried calling you all morning, but you never answered.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. My phone was on silent in the hospital and I didn’t hear you.’
‘But you heard Igor calling.’
Marcus leaned across the table. He was about to say something to her, and from the look on his face she knew it wouldn’t be nice, but Sherrie arrived at just the right moment and interrupted him.
‘My boy!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m so happy when I see the pair of you together! But you need to put out that cigarette – you can’t smoke in here. Tell him, Penny. Smoking is bad for your health.’
‘I’m afraid if I told him that he’d smoke twice as much just to spite me,’ Penny said. ‘Listen, how much do I owe you for the cake?’
‘Nothing, baby girl, but can you guys do me a big favour? I got a little delivery from eBay. Could you drive it over to my place if I give you the keys? But be careful – it’s fragile and made of mirrored glass, and if you break it you’ll have seven years of bad luck!’
Marcus, the cigarette still lit between his lips, nodded slowly. While he was busy talking to Sherrie, he reached across the table to squeeze Penny by the arm to stop her from leaving, and his touch seemed to bring out the sun to warm Penny’s blood in spite of the rain.
Sherrie lived right by the sea. She’d ordered one of those huge disco balls, straight out of the Seventies, with glittering sequins and mirrors. Having warned them again not to break it, Sherrie looked apprehensive, like a mother who doesn’t know if her child will be safe.
During the car journey, the rain continued to fall in sheets. After a few moments, as if he had been holding in a question for far too long, Marcus asked, ‘So what did he want?’
‘Who?’
‘You know who. Igor.’
Penny shook her head imperceptibly and stared out the window. ‘Why are you so obsessed with him?’
He ignored her question, and his sharp look gleamed with anger. ‘Did he ask you out?’ he insisted.
‘Yup.’
‘Whe
n? Where?’
‘I don’t ask for reports on your every movement.’
‘Well, I’m asking for yours. What are you going to do?’
‘Nothing. He wanted to meet tomorrow night. I told him no.’
Marcus gripped the steering wheel more tightly. Penny sneaked a look at him. He looked tired, with dark circles she’d never noticed, as if he’d slept little and badly – and not just for one night. She held back her impulse to touch his hand as it gripped the gearshift.
‘Before you leave, can I take a photo of you?’ she asked.
He turned with a startled jerk, as if he didn’t understand what she meant, but his eyes grew even darker as he went back to looking at the road.
‘I need it,’ Penny explained. ‘I won’t show anyone and I promise not to steal your soul.’
Without even looking at her, Marcus murmured sharply, ‘Maybe you already stole it.’
‘I’m not a witch. I just want to remember you . . .’
Although she was sure she would never forget him, she didn’t want to run the risk of ending up like her grandma, who only had her errant memory to rely on. She needed proof, something that could show her fifty years from now that Marcus had existed and not only been some romantic fantasy.
Just then, they arrived at the beach. Sherrie’s house was a kind of wooden shack built directly on the sand, almost lapped at by the tongue of the sea. There was respite from the rain as a broken ray of sunshine pierced the clouds. Penny wondered how Sherrie felt about waking up every day with all this beauty before her eyes. Maybe, after so many years of compromising between necessity and horror, she had simply craved the innocent perfection of nature.
Trying Not To Love You Page 23