by Hazel Hayes
Afterwards, I wiped steam off the mirror with one hand and stood staring at my naked body. I had erupted in bright red patches, which turned white when I pressed down on them. Strings of wet hair clung around my throat like skinny, orange fingers and my shoulders dipped forward in defeat. I hated every inch of flesh in front of me.
My fists clenched, and I considered putting one of them straight through my reflection. I imagined thin slivers of glass slicing through my skin, lodging in my knuckles, and the thought brought me a brief respite from feeling repulsed by myself.
I didn’t notice Theo knocking on the bathroom door at first.
‘Are you nearly done in there?’ came his voice, as though through water.
‘Yeah,’ I said, wrapping myself in a towel and remembering to turn the shower temperature back down before I opened the door. When I did, Theo took one look at me and walked straight past me without saying a word. He showered, then came out to find me still sitting on the bed in a towel.
‘Why aren’t you getting ready?’ he asked.
‘For what?’
‘The zoo.’
‘Oh,’ I said, ‘I didn’t know if you’d still want to go.’
He shook his head dismissively.
‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘I just thought you might want to talk about last night.’
‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ said Theo.
*
We hardly spoke at breakfast; I tried to make conversation but Theo just gave me the bare minimum response before going quiet again. This continued the whole way to the zoo.
At the ticket desk we were served by a very pleasant lady wearing a grey hippopotamus hat. She handed us each a brightly coloured flyer with directions to the different enclosures and fun facts about each animal. Then she printed out our tickets and offered them to Theo.
‘Isn’t it cruel?’ he blurted.
We both looked at him in confusion.
‘I’m sorry?’ asked the lady, in a heavy French accent.
‘Keeping the animals locked up like this,’ said Theo. ‘It just seems a bit cruel.’
‘Oh, I think the animals are very happy here,’ she replied, her smile unwavering.
‘Well, what would you know?’
Was he trying to pick a fight with the hippo lady?
‘We don’t have to go to the zoo if it upsets you,’ I interjected.
A look of utter exasperation spread across Theo’s face.
‘It doesn’t upset me.’
‘All right,’ I said, ‘but we can go somewhere else. I don’t mind.’
‘No. You wanted to go to the zoo. So we’re going to the zoo.’
The lady was still holding out our tickets, her grin firmly glued in place.
‘Our animals do receive very excellent care here, monsieur,’ she chirped.
Theo rolled his eyes, grabbed the tickets from her and stomped off towards the entrance. I apologised on his behalf then followed him into the zoo.
We walked side by side in silence for what felt like hours, both pretending to be interested in lions and elephants and monkeys, and something called an okapi – which I think is a cross between a zebra and a giraffe, but I wasn’t bothered reading the leaflet. I could sense the tension building but was helpless to prevent it; it was like spending an afternoon with a pressure cooker.
Theo finally lost it at the penguin tank.
‘What the fuck were you thinking?’ he snapped, the severity of his outburst somewhat muted by a group of baby penguins swimming playfully about behind his head. Several people turned to look at us.
‘Let’s go back to the hotel and talk,’ I said, trying to take his hand, but he just pulled away from me and walked off to a quieter spot.
‘I don’t understand,’ I said, when I caught up with him. ‘You seemed okay about it last night.’
‘Well I’m not!’ he barked. He was pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair. I waited for him to speak, afraid to say the wrong thing.
‘Why would you just bring her back like that?’ he asked.
‘I thought you wanted a threesome.’
‘I do. I did,’ he said, getting more and more flustered as he spoke, ‘but I’d have liked to agree to it first.’
‘Wait. Didn’t you?’ I asked, struggling to remember. ‘Didn’t we text about it?’
Theo stopped pacing and looked at me, incredulous.
‘That was your way of asking?’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘I was drunk and—’
‘And that excuses it all, does it?’
‘No, of course not,’ I said. ‘I really am sorry.’
A family strolled past, chatting and laughing. They smiled at us and we smiled back, waiting until they were out of earshot to resume arguing.
‘Why did you do it?’
‘For you.’
‘For me!?’ Theo forced out a fake laugh. ‘Seemed like you were having plenty of fun without me.’
‘Please don’t be mean,’ I said, calmly, but my composure only seemed to fluster him more.
‘Mean!?’ said Theo. ‘You let some stranger go down on you in a toilet and I’m mean?’
I winced at this.
‘That’s not how I wanted it to be,’ I said.
‘How you wanted what to be?’
‘My first time with a woman.’
‘Your first time?’ he scoffed. ‘So you’re planning on doing this again, are you?’
Theo’s words were coming out like bullets, each one meant to do harm, and when he looked at me, all I could see was pure, unfiltered hatred. This wasn’t the same man who had kissed me in the hotel last night.
‘No,’ I said. ‘Please calm down. You’re mixing my words.’
‘I’m not doing anything.’ Suddenly he was roaring at me, ‘THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT.’
Theo stepped towards me and instinctively I recoiled, lifting a hand to protect myself. Theo pulled away from me; he looked disgusted.
‘Oh don’t pull that card,’ he snapped, and I could tell he instantly regretted saying it. I looked away, embarrassed that my body had responded so dramatically, and angry that Theo seemed to think it was performative. I felt weak and silly and exposed.
‘The way that men have treated me all my life is not a card, Theo,’ I muttered between gritted teeth.
‘I know,’ he said, ‘I’m sorry I said that. It’s just, I would never … I’m not them, I’m not your dad, and I’m not your shithead ex.’
‘Could’ve fooled me.’
A heavy silence hung between us until he spoke again.
‘I don’t like who I am around you sometimes,’ he said finally.
‘Well, I despise the sad, snivelling little appeaser I’ve become around you.’
I didn’t even know if I meant it. But I sure sounded like I did.
Theo looked at me with tears in his eyes, then walked away with his head down and shoulders slumped. I went back to the penguin tank and sat watching them for hours. I felt absolutely nothing.
When I got back to the hotel I found Theo perched on the sofa and my bag by the door, packed and ready to go.
‘I’d like you to leave,’ said Theo.
‘Evidently.’
‘Stop it!’ he shouted. ‘Stop this cool, calm, collected shit.’
I wasn’t cool, calm or collected; this was just my default mode in a confrontation. Theo would know that if he’d ever bothered to fight with me before.
‘My flight isn’t until Monday,’ I said.
‘I know,’ he said, gathering himself. ‘I’ll give you the money to change it.’
I couldn’t help but laugh.
‘You’re all right, thanks.’
Theo looked up at me from across the room.
‘I was trying to fix things,’ I said.
‘Fix what things?’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘the fact that you don’t love me, for a start.’
Theo flinched at this. It was su
btle but I saw it.
‘I’m just angry with you,’ he said, dismissively.
‘No, you’ve got it backwards,’ I said, smiling sadly. ‘I’m not saying you stopped loving me because of what I did, I’m saying I did it because you stopped loving me.’
He levelled an indignant look at me.
‘When?’
‘I don’t know exactly when it happened, Theo. All I know is that it’s true.’
My voice sounded weary and resigned.
‘I think you should go,’ said Theo, and I did.
I’m still crying when Darren arrives home; he gets halfway through the door and freezes, trying to hide the bunch of flowers behind his back.
‘Is this a bad time?’ he asks sheepishly. Maya smiles up at him while I dry my face with the back of my hand.
‘No, no,’ I say, ‘just having a drink and a cry – the usual.’
‘Oh, okay,’ says Darren, still frozen.
‘Come in for fuck’s sake!’ says Maya, getting up to give him a hug.
While they’re busy making up, I go into Maya and Darren’s bedroom to get my things, and I find myself looking at a framed photo of their wedding day. It’s a picture of the whole bridal party, and I’m on the end next to Theo. All the other couples are holding hands or draping arms around one another’s shoulders, but Theo is just standing there with his hands in his pockets, like he doesn’t even know me.
I’ve never seen anyone as happy as Maya was that day, but then, she’s always happy. I mean, she’s gone through breakups and been fired from jobs and for a few years in her early twenties she lived with a housemate from hell, but from what I can tell she had a fairly uneventful upbringing – her parents are about as loving and supportive as two people can be – and she’s never experienced any real tragedy until recently; she had a miscarriage shortly after the wedding, and it was the lowest I’d ever seen her. She called me from the bathroom of a restaurant where she’d been having lunch; she said she froze when she saw the blood in the toilet and couldn’t even remember how to work a phone for hours. She was still locked in the cubicle sobbing when I finally got to her.
Maya refused to go to the hospital – all she wanted was to go home and shower – so I did as she asked and brought her back to her apartment. I remember when Darren got home, he scooped her up like an injured animal and held her while she cried. He didn’t say a word. He just held her for as long as it took. And afterwards he gave her all the space she needed to grieve, while gently helping her to pick herself back up. He was grieving too, of course – he even called me a few times to talk through how he was feeling – but he never let those feelings affect Maya. As far as I know they’re trying for a baby again, which to my mind is one of the bravest things a couple can do together after going through something like that.
I sometimes wonder how I would have turned out if I’d had nice, stable parents and settled down with a nice, stable man; someone calm and kind, who doesn’t flap in the face of adversity. I keep ending up with flappers, I think, but then I keep choosing them.
Maya and Darren are tucking into the remains of the cake when I come back with my coat on and my suitcase in hand.
‘Where are you going!?’ asks Maya when she sees me.
‘Home. I should leave you two alone. But thank you so much for looking after me tonight.’
They both protest in unison, but I insist. I feel like my sadness is contagious and I want to take it as far away from these perfect people as I can.
‘Besides,’ I say, ‘someone’s got to feed the mice!’
Darren laughs at this. Maya gets up and wraps me up in a hug.
‘If you’re sure,’ she says, into my ear. Then Darren wraps his arms around the both of us. He smells of beer and day-old cologne and it makes me pine for Theo.
When I pull away, Darren holds me by the shoulders and stares at me with glazed eyes.
‘Whatever’s wrong, don’t worry,’ he slurs. ‘Things could get much, much worse.’
Maya squints up at him in confusion.
‘Great,’ I say, patting him on the arm. ‘Nailed it, Darren.’
On the way home I text Theo to ask if we can talk. He replies immediately to say he’s not ready yet, but he’s glad I landed safely. All very polite. All very cold.
I spend the next couple of weeks acutely aware of his absence, wondering if he’s ever coming home, or if I even want him to.
Knowing: Part II
Maya and Darren’s wedding is a homemade affair, all tea lights and bunting and fresh lemonade in mason jars. In the small stone church, Maya hands me her bouquet, and I go stand next to her sister and cousin – the three of us wearing the same blue satin dress. Maya’s dress is made of delicate ivory lace, and her hair is adorned with a dainty flower crown. She’s never looked more beautiful.
She’s been beaming all day, since the moment I helped her into her dress in the morning – the pair of us giggling hysterically as she stood there in nothing but a white thong and heels, with me kneeling in front of her, trying desperately to shimmy the fabric over her not-insignificant hips. At the altar, her face is set in a soft, serene smile, the picture of certainty and calm.
In the cool quiet of the church, sunlight streams through a stained-glass window and the low hum of a tractor can be heard, gently rumbling through a nearby field. The vows are flawless. Maya stumbles once but then I give her a wink and she lets out a nervous little laugh, which only adds to the charm of it all. Darren doesn’t take his eyes off her once.
Chalkboard signs lead the small congregation from the ceremony to the reception, and we follow the happy couple down a cobbled country street to a converted barn, where we’re seated at long trestle tables, each one lovingly strewn with flowers and candles, and a handwritten place card for every guest.
The speeches are just the right length, the meal is a giant cottage pie – made from scratch by Darren’s aunt – and the band is surprisingly good. We drink and dance into the wee hours, belting our way through every chorus of every song, until the band have long gone and we’re playing music off somebody’s phone. Finally we collapse into deckchairs around a fire pit in the courtyard outside.
By now there are only eight of us left, all couples, and we’re down to our last bottle of wine. We pass it around the circle along with a spliff that Miles, Darren’s best man, has just produced from his jacket pocket. It’s a warm night. Still and quiet. Maya lets out a satisfied sigh, and Darren looks at her and smiles.
‘This woman,’ he announces, apropos of nothing, ‘this woman means everything to me. Without her, life wouldn’t be worth living.’
Maya smiles shyly but Darren continues to stare at her with sincerity and intensity.
‘I mean it,’ he goes on. ‘You are the kindest, sweetest, smartest, sexiest woman in the whole world and I can’t believe I get to call you my wife.’
Maya leans out of her chair, grabs Darren by the shirt collar and kisses him. Everybody whoops and cheers and laughs and then, out of nowhere, Miles begins to speak.
‘This woman,’ he bellows. His girlfriend, Alyssa, sinks into her seat, hiding her face in her hands. Miles carries on regardless.
‘This woman is my rock,’ he says in a delightful Welsh accent, ‘and I know I myself may seem quite … sturdy.’ He pats his beer belly with both hands and chuckles. ‘But I’m just a softie really. This woman right here …’
Miles looks at Alyssa with tears shining in his eyes. She peeks at him through her fingers.
‘She’s the strong one. She’s my rock. She’s got us through thick and thin, so she has.’
Alyssa drops her hands and stares at Miles, mouthing the words, ‘Thank you.’
I don’t know what their story is, but I know they are both silently reliving it right now. I notice Maya wipe away a tear. Finally Joe pipes up to break the tension.
‘This man!’ he blurts drunkenly. He’s referring to Kabir, the poor fellow whose lap he’s currently sitting in.
<
br /> ‘This man puts up with all my bullshit! He’s a goddamn saint. And he’s gorgeous! Look at him. Go on, I don’t mind, look at him!’
Joe stands up and makes Kabir stand up too, then gestures for him to do a little spin. We all cheer and whistle our approval while Kabir takes a theatrical bow.
‘I love you with all my heart, honey,’ says Kabir to Joe. They kiss – a little too passionately for the circumstances – and we all cheer again.
‘Here’s to love!’ proclaims Joe, raising the bottle of wine in the air.
‘To love!’ we echo.
By this point a precedent has been set; the group instinctively turn to me and Theo and I can’t help but smile in anticipation. He shifts in his seat, and everyone thinks he’s acting coy. They stare on with big, stupid smiles. But suddenly, my stomach drops. It’s the same feeling I get when the phone rings unexpectedly at 4 a.m. Only some part of me was expecting this call. Some part of me saw it coming.
Now, I’m not the kind of girl to gush over weddings but the marriage part – the idea of two flawed people being somehow perfect for each other, the odds of finding another human who can tolerate your specific brand of shit, and whose shit you can tolerate too – I think that’s pretty special. All around me today, couples old and new grew visibly closer and more affectionate as they gazed dotingly at Maya and Darren, and were reminded what real love looks like. And I think that’s how a wedding should make you feel – closer and more affectionate. But I haven’t felt particularly close to Theo today, and I certainly haven’t felt any affection.
It’s not that Theo has done anything wrong, exactly, but for a few months now I’ve had a niggling feeling that something is missing, and today it’s been especially palpable. He was one of Darren’s groomsmen. He stood opposite me at the altar. And every time I tried to catch his eye, I felt like he could sense me looking at him but chose not to look back.
After the ceremony he made every possible excuse to not be near me, as though standing next to me on a day like today – him in a nice suit and me in a pretty dress with a bouquet of flowers – was all a bit too symbolic for his liking. For a long time his energy around me has been that of a man who’s bracing himself for impact, and for some reason this is only hitting me now.