We were silent for a moment and then we burst out laughing. I liked talking to Carl, I felt comfortable with him, like I didn’t have to pretend to be something I wasn’t.
‘Listen, Mia .’ he began, ‘Do you still want to go out for that pizza one day soon?’
My stomach tightened involuntarily. What was this? Was it an invitation from a friend or was he making a move? Oh, who was I trying to kid? He was obviously asking me out on a date, anyone could see that. But all I wanted was Patrick. There could never be anyone else. As ridiculous as it was, I would always stay faithful to my unrequited love, and accepting Carl’s invitation would just be misleading him.
‘I don’t know...I’m pretty busy with revising this week.’ I replied, without much conviction, ‘And if I don’t study, I’ll probably fail my exams, and if I fail my exams no-one will give me a job except cleaning the toilets. Do you really want to be responsible for me having to clean toilets for the rest of my life?’
‘Mia…I’m not trying to get you into bed or anything. I literally just want to go for a pizza.’
I stared at him, surprised and a little embarrassed. Apparently it was just a pizza, not an arranged marriage.
‘Well, you know Carl, I’m an old-fashioned girl, how do I know that after the pizza, you won’t kidnap me and carry me off to your castle?’
‘If I try you can always attack me with your ballet shoes.’
We settled on the following evening at seven o’clock, and he would give me a lift home afterwards in his car.
Meanwhile, Nina was slowly returning to her cheerful self, but there was still a hint of sadness behind her smile, a reminder of what had happened. It had changed her, maybe forever. Sometimes I fantasised about Patrick finding out and forcing him to apologise at gunpoint, but in reality I knew that nothing would stop people like Thomas from behaving like arseholes. The only way to protect yourself from men like that was to stay away from them. Someone should make an antivirus that put them in quarantine as soon as they approached, or a repellent you could spread on them that made everyone immune to their flattery. I would give it to Mum and all my friends. It would be the invention of the century.
Later, when I went to Claire’s for my lesson I noticed that my right shoe was stained with blood. I smiled with a touch of pride. I would keep it as a trophy. I felt inspired that day, and my fouettés benefited from it.
‘Gracefully, Mia gracefully! Remember that you are a swan, delicate and vulnerable. I want more fluidity. Finish those movements, don’t just tickle them, and good God, what is going on with those hands?’
She complained constantly, but I could tell that she was satisfied with my progress. I felt that I was maturing as a dancer: I held my head higher and danced with more intensity and precision. I focused on expressing my emotions, acquiring energy and speed, and I forgot all about my fatigue.
And Claire was pleased. In her way.
When I got home, I found Mum and Paul sitting around the kitchen table, talking. They looked like they’d been caught in the act, although they were actually just drinking coffee. I dropped my bag on the floor and went over to the fridge to get a Coke, pretending they weren’t there.
‘Hi Mia,’ said Paul.
‘Hi Paul,’ I answered without looking at him, ‘Have you come to pick up your toothbrush?’
‘Mia!’ Mum interrupted me. ‘Paul came over to talk to me. He’s going to stay and have dinner with us.’
‘Why, is one family not enough for him?’
She got up nervously and carried the cups towards the sink. As she passed, she gave me a murderous look that I interpreted as, ‘Keep your big mouth shut and don’t get involved in things you don’t understand.’
Message received: she was free to go and fling herself under a bus if that was what she wanted.
I missed Patrick, the memory of the two kisses on the stairs began to fade and the accidental contact in the car had been so slight that it was difficult to build any decent fantasies around. Anyway, I didn’t want to think about that evening again for as long as I lived. Nina had told me that he had left for Portsmouth and would be back on the training ship for the next three months. Why couldn’t he have worked in a shop or something?
The dinner passed in embarrassed silence, and I admit that I did my best to make everyone feel as awkward as possible. Why were they just carrying on as though nothing had happened, when just twelve hours ago Mum had been in such a sorry state? What was wrong with her? If a man tells you he’s leaving you because his wife is opposed to your relationship, you need to forget about him, not just let him back in the second he comes running back. Adults were a mystery sometimes.
Paul tried to be nice to me, but I’d never liked him, so he needn’t have bothered.
He didn’t get our sense of humour anyway, so what was the point?
‘This chicken pie is very good, Elena’ he said to Mum.
‘Yes, it is,’ I agreed, ‘What brand is it?’
Mum glared at me.
‘How do you mean?’ he asked, puzzled.
God, he was thick.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Mum. ‘Mia’s sense of humour is a bit borderline sometimes.’
‘Borderline?’
It was like having a conversation with a parrot!
‘Yeah. You know, like the Madonna song,’
He stared at us, bewildered.
‘It’s a frozen pie, Paul!’ Mum sighed, exasperated. She got up to clear the dishes.
‘Okay, well, thanks for dinner! I have to do my homework now, bye Paul.’ I was deliberately insincere.
I ran upstairs, shut myself in my room, threw myself onto the bed and put my headphones on with Coldplay at full volume. Ten minutes later the door was flung open and Mum stormed through like a raging beast.
She took off my headphones.
‘Can you tell me what the hell that was all about? Do you want to give me lessons on how to live my life now, is that it?’ The veins were standing out on her neck. I’d really done it this time.
I didn’t answer and pretended to keep studying.
She snapped the book shut, forcing me to look at her. ‘I understand that you’re going through a difficult phase in life, but that does not give you the right to poke your nose into things that don’t concern you and that you know nothing about!’
It scared me, I had never seen her so angry.
‘You don’t get to judge me: you have no experience of how the world really works. One day soon you’ll learn that everything isn’t black and white. Life is full of grey areas, and you have to face them and learn to compromise if you want to get anywhere in life. I’ve had to make some difficult decisions, and I certainly don’t expect to be lectured for it by a self-righteous child!’
I didn’t dare to answer.
‘Paul is a good man, and he loves me, and I want to try and fix things with him. No! Stop, I already know what you’re going to say: that he is married and that a woman of my age should know that certain things do not work, especially after the negative experiences I have had, but I guarantee you that when you are my age, you will have a totally different perspective on life. When I was sixteen, I dreamed of pure and perfect love too, of someone who lived his whole life only for me, and loved me totally, exclusively, forever. But then you come up against reality, which is unfortunately much less romantic than fantasy, and this reality is made up of human beings who have weaknesses, human beings who make mistakes, who marry the wrong person, and you can’t condemn them for that!’
‘Mum .’ I answered, sitting up, ‘I’m sorry if I seemed like I was judging you. That really wasn’t what I meant. And you’re right, I don’t know anything yet about life and love, but I know that you cried yesterday and you cried the day before too, and this morning when you left for work you looked about sixty, and...I don’t want you to suffer any more. Not because of Paul... or anyone!’ I had tears in my eyes and I trailed off, unable to continue.
She hugg
ed me, and we stayed like that for a good few minutes.
‘I love you Mum,’ I whispered.
‘I love you too, and I would do anything to see you happy, I swear to God,’ she whispered back through her tears, ‘Anything.’
I thought instinctively of the Royal Ballet School, but I was beginning to realise that miracles didn’t happen.
5
Carl arrived punctually at our house and made an excellent first impression on my Mum and York, who were standing in the doorway smiling and wagging their tail, respectively.
I came downstairs and saw him holding a bunch of roses, which put me on my guard immediately. What were those for if we were just going out as friends?
‘These are for my mother, I assume?’
‘Of course, obviously. Mrs... Mia’s Mum, these are for you.’ He held out the flowers to Mum.
‘Elena, just Elena. I’m afraid my daughter is convinced that life without sarcasm is not worth living. She just can’t cope without it. Sometimes I’d rather she took up smoking! I’m quite happy to accept the flowers, though,’ she said, taking the bouquet.
We went out to the car, both looking at the floor and not speaking.
‘Your mum’s nice! She seems very young. My mum’s like Miss Marple in comparison!’
‘She’s forty-three, that’s not young!’
‘It is! My mum’s fifty, and she seems like she’s seventy sometimes! And my dad as well.
My dad had probably acted ninety when he was eighteen.
We got into the car and headed towards the town centre.
‘Listen, Mia, it seemed a bit sad just going to Pizza Hut, so I’ve booked us in at Cinnamon. It’s my favourite Indian restaurant, but if you don’t want to go I can always cancel.’
‘No, Indian is fine, anything but Italian, I can’t take any more bad imitations!’
I was already wishing I was back at home, not because Carl wasn’t nice, but because I wasn’t used to being out late, and the evening seemed to stretch endlessly in front of us. I kept thinking about how I had to get up early tomorrow for school, and then I had practise with Claire afterwards, and I’d be knackered because I hadn’t had enough sleep. I just wanted to be under my duvet with York, fantasising about Patrick saving me from a shipwreck.
But at the same time I felt bad about Carl, who was being really nice to me. When we got to the restaurant, he held the door for me, and the waiter took us to a quiet table and lit a candle. I’d never been to dinner alone with a boy in a restaurant and I felt awkward and embarrassed. We were supposed to be just going for a pizza, but instead we were at a candlelit dinner for two. It was something I might have appreciated at thirty, but not at sixteen. It all seemed too grown up and serious.
‘I recommend the tandoori chicken or rogan josh,’ Carl said, ‘And the garlic naan is pretty good too.’
‘I don’t know, I think I’ll get rice and lentils.’
We struggled to make conversation, which had never been a problem before, perhaps because the circumstances were more official this time.
‘So, what are you doing next year?’ I asked him.
‘I’ve gone for economics, law and business studies.’
‘Oh God, that’s my mum’s dream!’ I couldn’t help but say.
‘How about you? You’ll be doing something to do with ballet I assume?’
It was the first time someone had taken for granted that I would continue to study classical dance.
‘That’s what I’d like, but Mum’s not keen, and ballet school is really very expensive. Plus the audition to enter really difficult.’
‘Well, if you’ve come this far, it seems mad to give up now. I mean, how long have you been dancing, ten years? And now suddenly you’re going to put on a grey suit and work in a bank? I think you would go crazy in two weeks. I don’t know anything about dance, I could trip over my own feet, but I’m fascinated by anyone who expresses their creativity in some way. I’d love to see you dance, I bet you’re really good.’
It was also the first time that someone expressed a desire to see me dance or showed such unconditional belief in my ability. I wished Patrick was in his place, saying those things to me. And then giving me an engagement ring.
I smiled and blushed. ‘I don’t know if I’m really good, but I do know there’s nothing else in the world that makes me as happy.’
‘I can tell, your eyes light up when you talk about it. You’re lucky. I know your choice involves a lot of sacrifices, but it must be really rewarding to dedicate yourself to something you love so much. I admire you, you know? To have such a clear goal when you’re still young.’
By ten o’clock it was all I could do to keep my eyes open.
‘Come on, I’ll take you home, I don’t want you falling asleep in class tomorrow,’ he said, half disappointed and half affectionate.
I couldn’t stop yawning. It was as though the fact we’d gone out together had inhibited us.
We arrived in front of the house.
‘Well, I can’t say it was an unforgettable evening, but I’m sure the next time will be much better,’ he said, pulling up outside.
‘You mean that despite having made you sit through the most boring dinner of your life, you want to go out with me again?’
‘Of course! I want to give you one more chance,’ he said, teasingly, ‘Let me know what dancers eat and we can find somewhere that does that.’
‘I hope you like crackers and water.’
‘If it’s the only way to see you again I’ll adapt...now you’d better go, it’s late.’
He touched my cheek with his fingertips and very naturally moved his face close to mine and gently kissed my lips.
I opened the car door quickly and went outside.
‘I’m sorry, I...I didn’t want to upset you,’ he said, misinterpreting my embarrassment.
‘No, no, I’m not upset! It’s fine, honestly. Well. good night.’ And I ran inside the house.
Once inside I leaned against the closed door without turning on the light, enjoying the familiar protection of my home.
Carl had kissed me, and I couldn’t tell if I liked it or not. It was the first time a real, flesh and blood person had kissed me and I wasn’t prepared. Until then I had lived through my imagination, with only my thoughts for company. In my head, I decided the script, but now there was another person involved, everything had become unpredictable. I was no longer in control.
I climbed the stairs slowly, reflecting on the last few minutes of the evening. How was it possible that Carl was interested in me? I’d practically fallen asleep with my face in the curry. Surely that was enough to put anyone off?
Should I have told him I loved Patrick? How could I explain it to him? ‘Sorry, I’m in love with an older guy who lives at sea and thinks of me as a younger sister, but I think I’m in with a chance!’ It was a mess.
And yet…when I was with him I was happy.
A few minutes after I got into bed I received a text. It was from Carl.
‘Think I fucked up, I swear it wasn’t premeditated. Well, maybe a bit, lol. But I swear it won’t happen again. Although I would like it to. OK I’ll stop swearing. I did like it, though! Goodnight Mia Ballerina. x.’
Whoa, what was this? First he asks me out, then he kisses me, then he basically tells me that he wants to do it again! Did he think we were an item? And most importantly: did I like him?
When I thought about him, I felt a peculiar sensation in the pit of my stomach. It was the sort of feeling I had only ever felt for Patrick until now, and I didn’t like feeling it about someone else.
I lay in the dark with the phone in my hand for about ten minutes, undecided whether to reply or not. If I did, he might get ideas, but if I didn’t it seemed rude. If ‘having a relationship’ meant staying awake at night staring at your phone and not knowing how or what, or even if I should reply, then maybe relationships weren’t for me.
I switched the phone off and turned away.
<
br /> The next morning Mum watched me like a hawk over her cup of coffee.
‘What are you looking at?’ I asked, spreading a thin layer of butter on my toast.
‘Well…?’
‘Well what?’
‘Aren’t you going to tell me anything?’ she crooned.
‘There’s nothing to tell!’
‘I think you’re hiding something .’ she continued.
‘Come on.’ I could feel myself blushing, ‘What is there to tell? We went for a curry and then we came home.’
‘Carl’s pretty cute.’
‘Yeah, he’s alright,’ I replied absently.
‘And he loves you!’ she smiled mischievously.
‘Mum! What are you talking about?’ I got up to fill the kettle, which was already full. I could have died of embarrassment.
‘He’s smitten! Didn’t you see how he looked at you?’
‘No! How did he look at me?’
‘Like you were the most beautiful thing in the world!’
‘No he didn’t! He looks at everyone like that. He looked at York like that.’
‘Do you like him?’
‘Will you stop giving me the third degree?’ My face was burning, but I couldn’t help laughing, too.
‘You do, you like him! Look how red you are! Mia loooves Ca-arl, Mia looooves Ca-arl!’
‘Mum, shut up! I don’t love Carl, he’s just... really nice. and I suppose quite cute and... will you stop it!’
She was still humming her little tune and laughing to herself, but if it cheered her up, I was happy let her tease me. It was great to see her laugh again. But the smile was wiped off my face a moment later, when Paul wandered into the kitchen, wearing a pair of turquoise boxer shorts.
My expression changed immediately. I had promised Mum that I would stop tormenting him and try to give him a chance, but it was easier said than done. He was so easy to wind up that it seemed almost ungrateful to waste the opportunity. Still, I would be good, and not play any tricks on him. Or at least I would try my very best.
‘Good morning!’ Mum said, a big smile plastered across her face, ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’
9781789543087 If I Can't Have You Page 7