Thief of Mind

by Ben Thomas

  “This one’s been right boring for weeks now. I had to drag her out tonight on the promise that we’d meet some hot men…and we already have,” said a flirty Natasha, at which Bobby, Darren and Pete beamed. They were making no effort to play it cool.

  “Yeah, Darren and Peter will probably be getting back to their wives soon.” Bobby was intent on leaving his path clear of competition.

  “Their wives? When you said they were happily married I assumed you meant to each other,” quipped Natasha. Darren and Pete stared at each other in horror, detached from the laughter emanating from Julie, Bobby and me.

  “I, I, I’m not even married yet,” spluttered Darren.

  “Soon to be, though…to a very lovely and good friend of mine,” responded Bobby.

  “Hey, I was only joking, boys. Your wife,” she nodded at Peter, “and soon to be wife,” then at Darren, “are very lucky ladies.” Natasha had suddenly turned Pete and Darren’s looks of horror into looks of delight. I glanced at Bobby admiring Natasha, and I could tell it was as much for her repartee as her looks. They were going to get on very well.

  Bobby and Natasha dominated most of the conversations as the night went on, with Darren and Pete forlornly trying to impress in turn Natasha and Julie. But Julie, like me, was mostly quiet. By about 11:30, Pete and Darren announced they were both going home to get back under their respective thumbs.

  “Right, I think it’s my round,” announced Natasha. Bobby gave me a furtive look before offering to help her. As they got up, I wondered if it was Bobby being tactful to give me and Julie some time or whether it was that he couldn’t bear to be apart from Natasha already. They left Julie and I in silence. I was grasping for the right words to say, scrambling to break the silence. We were such good friends, but right now we were strangers.

  Julie spoke first. “So, they seem to be getting on well.”

  “Yeah, I know. I think Bobby’s found the female equivalent of himself, albeit far more attractive.” Julie smiled at that before we both stumbled back into the silence, both surveying the bar, searching for a neutral topic of conversation. At least neither of us had resorted to staring at our phones.

  “So, how ha…” we both clumsily said in unison before each adding, “sorry, you go…” something I had assumed only ever happened in the movies.

  “I was just going to ask how work is?” Unoriginal I know.

  “Busy. Since the redundancies and my job change, it’s been manic. We miss you…I mean, you should never have been made redundant. We need you.”

  Another pause.

  “I saw Rory the other day.”

  “I haven’t seen him since he left. I kind of feel guilty that I’m effectively in his job. How is he?”

  “He’s good. Not found new work yet, but he’s confident. And listen, don’t feel guilty about your promotion. You didn’t make Rory redundant, and besides you’re a great person for that role; you deserved it.”

  Julie smiled at this, before looking down at the table and then saying, “So, is it true what they were saying before?”

  “About what?”

  “About you stalking me?”

  “What? No. No. I wouldn’t do something like that. Honestly, Julie.” Panic stabbed at me. “We just sometimes start off here, and I know a lot of the old work crew come in after work, like we did…and sometimes I look out for a familiar face, you know, like Steve,” I said at a hundred miles an hour.

  “Relax, Toby. I was only joking... So…you were looking out for Steve and not me?” Julie held my eyes with hers, captivating me, melting me.

  “Of course I was looking out for you.” My defences were breached.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know…because I miss you,” I said, looking down at the palms of my hands, “and I wanted to apologise.” I braved looking up into her eyes. “For, you know, that night.” Julie’s face suddenly went serious and I thought I had made a mistake raising the subject, but now I had, I needed to press on. “My behaviour that night was…well, how can I describe it…” I groped for an appropriate word but Julie provided it for me.

  “Erratic?”

  “Erratic, yes that’s putting it politely. You see, for the past eighteen years or so I’ve been suffering with OCD, but I only just realised that’s what I had a few weeks ago. There are times when it gets worse, and that night with you it was really bad.”

  “Oh, thank you.” I could tell that Julie was joking this time.

  “Not because of you.” I noticed I had picked up a beer mat and was delicately tearing strips off it. “Because of the situation. It caused severe anxiety in me and caused my condition to really affect me. I tried controlling it, but as you saw, I couldn’t.”

  “So, I caused you anxiety?” The confusion on Julie’s face was understandable.

  “Well, I’ve never been in that position before…” I hesitated but then thought, fuck it. “I’ve not told anyone this before, and it’s probably harder to admit than it is to admit having mental health issues, but…I’m still a virgin.” I waited for Julie to scoff at this. I was unsure as to whether the fact she didn’t was a good thing or a bad thing. She just stared at me intently, concentrating on what I was saying. “So the fact that I was in an, ahem, intimate situation made me nervous and stressed, and the fact that you’re so hot made it even more serious. That’s what my condition is like, it turns everything into something to be feared. Something that in so many ways was one of the best nights of my life was corrupted by my OCD, and I couldn’t stop it…and I’m so sorry about that, Julie. I don’t know what you must have been thinking. I don’t know because I didn’t ask you. Even though you went out of your way to reach out to me, you know with your messages and when you, erm, you know, checked I wasn’t getting ‘burgled,’ I still didn’t talk to you about it, I didn’t give any consideration to how you were feeling. I was too absorbed in my own problems to stop and consider you, and I am so, so sorry for that, Julie.”

  Julie took what was left of the beer mat out of my hands and replaced it with her hands. She gently stroked my hands. “I didn’t realise,” she said.

  “It’s ridiculous what it’s been like. And one day, if you’re interested, I’ll tell you more about it. There are many other weird behaviours besides what you saw. I have to constantly check things, repeat things, think things, not think other things. It’s been hard, and it’s robbed me of so many good things. I’ve allowed it to hinder my relationships with so many people I care about, like my family, my friends…like you.”

  We were quiet again. I thought I’d gone too far.

  “So, what do you think?” I asked.

  “I think you must have been suffering if it’s stopped you from losing your virginity all this time.”

  We both laughed.

  “I’m getting better though. I’m having therapy.”

  “What, sex therapy?”

  We laughed again.

  “No, but if it works then hopefully it will result in me popping my cherry, maybe even before I’m sixty. I’m actually having something called cognitive behavioural therapy.”

  “Oh yeah, CBT.”

  “You’ve heard of it then?”

  “Heard of it? I’ve had it.”

  “What for?”

  “Bit personal, Toby.” She gave me an admonishing look.

  “Sorry.”

  “Seeing as though you’ve trusted me enough to reveal your virginity, I suppose I can admit to my fear of pigeons…”

  “Pigeons?” I sensed she was mocking me.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’m serious. I was petrified of pigeons. Couldn’t have them anywhere near me. I couldn’t walk through town for fear one would get me. So anyway, I had CBT for a little while, and though I still don’t like the filthy buggers, I’m not scared of them. So I know it’s not on the scale of your t
roubles, but in a small way I can relate to what you’ve said.”

  I noticed Bobby and Natasha returning to the table. I nudged Julie, “Hey, not a word about the virgin situation. Me being mental is fine though.”

  “And don’t you mention about the pigeons…virgin.” We both looked at each other and burst into laughter again. Laughing was becoming a good habit.

  “You two are getting on well,” said Natasha.

  “Yes, very well,” said Bobby, noting Julie’s hand still on mine.

  “And you two took your time at the bar and, erm, where are the drinks?”

  Natasha looked sheepish while Bobby looked like the cat that got the cream. “Yeah, slight change of plan. We’re heading to a club. You two coming?” asked Natasha.

  I really didn’t want to go clubbing. I was enjoying being here with Julie, but Julie was out with Natasha, so it was either go clubbing or go back to Mum and Dad’s, alone.

  “We’re going to stay here for a bit longer,” Julie said, before turning to my startled face, “that’s if it’s okay with you, Toby?”

  “Yeah, definitely,” I blurted out. I had tried feigning nonchalance but my delight was all too obvious and clear for anyone to see.

  “Okay, be good, you two. And if you can’t be good, be tremendous.”

  “Same to you, Bobby,” I said.

  Julie and I stayed till last orders, chatting together, laughing together. She had asked me about the night she and Steve saw me with Helen and I explained what had been going on the last few weeks. Julie listened attentively and, as she did, I could feel her compassion. As she gave me the opportunity to unburden myself, it felt like a gift; it felt restorative.

  We got separate cabs home, but not before I asked Julie if I could see her again, to which she had said yes. As I travelled home, I reflected on a great night with great mates. Then I remembered there were two others who showed up briefly then seemed to leave without notice. One was missed, one wasn’t.

  28

  “He will be with you in a moment, Mr Stacey…erm, Mr Stacey?”

  “Oh, sorry. I was miles away.” I wasn’t used to working undercover and hadn’t registered that the receptionist was addressing me, rather than Bobby, the aforementioned Mr Stacey.

  “He said you could wait in his office.”

  I had been deep in thought, wondering how my meeting would go. I was dressed in my best navy suit with smart blue shirt and black tie, carrying my dad’s briefcase which was as dated as his golf clubs. There wasn’t anything in it, of course. I just thought it might lend me extra gravitas. I felt like I was going to a job interview. My nerves were bursting at the seams. I’d had him under control in recent days but here he was today, busily chirruping away. I was using some of Susannah’s techniques and they were so far restricting him to background noise, like static on the radio.

  I was on the top floor of a city centre office with magnificent views of Manchester. The building oozed wealth and power. The receptionist led me into the office and left me to wait. The office was huge. One side was simply a massive window showing the vast city skyline. There was a large meeting table and a massive flat screen television, more like a cinema screen, on one of the walls. There was a black leather couch and two accompanying recliners gathered around a coffee table with various financial publications on it, and then there was a large mahogany desk on which rested three computers but nothing else. I noticed that there were no photographs anywhere and no displays of life away from the office.

  It was an impressive room, of that there was no doubt – but it felt cold and empty. I stood staring out of the window and tried going into a zone of mindfulness, concentrating on my breathing.

  “Finally lost some weight have we, Mr Stacey? Oh wait, you’re not Bobby. I don’t think I know you.”

  I turned around. “How you doing, Kev?”

  This was Bobby’s masterplan. Although at the time I had got over it quickly, Bobby knew I had been upset that Kev had left the pub the other night without saying hello, having rebuffed all my previous overtures. After regaling me about the charms of Natasha, he told me how we would engineer a meeting with Kev. Bobby and Kev got on well, and Bobby, being in recruitment, had done some work for Kev’s firm. Bobby was to arrange a meeting at Kev’s office to discuss business. Kev’s secretary had confirmed he could spare a twenty-minute slot today. I was to turn up in place of Bobby. Bobby had assured me that nobody at Kev’s office would realise it wasn’t actually him, as his business with Kev was usually conducted via email. I would only be recognised as an imposter by one person, and I was standing face to face with him now.

  Kev considered me for a moment. “We don’t have any vacancies at the moment, but if you give your details to my secretary on the way out we’ll keep you in mind.”

  “What? Oh, the suit. You know, I thought I’d make an effort.” I lamely smiled.

  Kev continued to stare at me impassively, holding his position, sideways on at the doorway of his office as if he was about to shepherd me out. I held my position by the window. I felt my fingers touch the glass, just to make sure it was there, as Kev looked like he might push me out.

  “What do you want, Toby? I haven’t got time for yours and Bobby’s jokes.”

  “I just wanted to…you know…talk.”

  Kev looked at his watch and sighed. “I can give you five minutes.”

  “Your secretary told Bobby you had twenty minutes.”

  “Evidently Bobby is not here. So, come on then, what do you want to say?”

  “Do you mind if we sit down?” I looked over at the couch and recliners.

  “Fine.” Kev marched over to his desk and indicated the chair opposite. “Be my guest.”

  I sat down facing Kev, the desk a physical and metaphorical barrier between us. I noticed Kev’s chair was higher than mine and I felt ridiculously intimidated in front of my oldest friend and a bit foolish with my borrowed briefcase on my lap. I put the briefcase on the floor, so at least that was one barrier removed. Kev just stared. I fiddled with the levers on my chair, trying to raise it to Kev’s level, but I suddenly felt gravity take hold as the seat rapidly lowered and I found myself virtually on the floor with my head nearly below the level of the desk. Instinctively I laughed as I stood up to meet Kev’s eyes, expecting that he would have been laughing with me. But he wasn’t even laughing at me. I managed to get to grips with the chair and sat back down at a more comfortable and respectable height. Kev started tapping his fingers.

  “We missed you down the pub on Friday.” I gave Kev a chance to reply but the two second delay felt like two hours so I bridged the silence. “Did you have work or something?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, work or yes, something?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I was looking forward to seeing you.”

  “Why? You haven’t seen me for over ten years.”

  “I know, and that’s one of the reasons I’m here. I want to explain why.”

  “There’s no need. It doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me,” I said imploringly. Kev ignored that comment and continued tapping. I pressed on. “Helen saw me a few weeks ago, mentioned that you two were together. I never realised.”

  “Yes, well a lot has happened over the years…surprisingly enough. You’re not still pining for her, are you?”

  “No, no. She had a few things to say to me. She’s not my number one fan and apparently neither are you. She told me you hated me and feel I let you down, and because of that you made me redundant.”

  “Toby, I do not choose which individual gets made redundant, but from what I could see you were going nowhere in that job anyway. I did you a favour…Oh no, that’s why you’re here…you actually want me to give you your job back.”

  “That’s not it. I’m here to say you were right. I have let you
down and I wanted to apologise and somehow try to make amends.”

  “Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

  “It does. You see, the thing is, I’ve been in a difficult place for a number of years. I’ve had some, erm, ‘issues’ which I didn’t know how to handle, issues which ended up pretty much controlling my life. My problems started back in school. Turns out I was…am…a bit mental, for want of a better term. It’s hard to explain but it made me turn away from those closest to me because, in a bizarre way, I thought it would protect them from harm. I’m getting better though. Just recently I realised I needed help and I found out I’ve been suffering from a condition called OCD. I’ve been having therapy for it, which so far is really helping. I know that I’ve let people down, including you, and I am sorry.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay? That’s it?”

  “Toby, I’m glad you’re getting over your need to tidy up.”

  “Well, it’s a bit more serious than that, but anyway…”

  “I know what OCD is, Toby. It’s the latest celebrity struggle. Well, it doesn’t appear to have held them back.”

  “It affects different people in different ways. I didn’t know how serious mine was for a long time, but thankfully I realised that I needed help. I’m not apologising for having a mental condition; I’m apologising for letting you down.” I paused and took a deep breath before looking Kev in the eye. “It hit me hard when your mum, erm, passed away. My issues really flared up at the time, and I abandoned you when you needed me most, and I’m sorry.”

  Although Kev had been irritated by my presence, he had been cool and calm up till then, but he stopped tapping and he balled his hands into fists, the skin white and tight against the knuckles. It’s been a few years since I was last punched… probably should have kept that briefcase as an extra barrier.