by Paige Toon
‘Sorry.’ He realises all at once that he’s hurting me. He releases me and edges back in bed so he’s sitting fully upright, resting against the wall. He’s broken all contact between us and I think it’s on purpose – I’m not sure he wants to be touched.
‘This went on for months. I’m not exactly sure of the timeline, but I never spoke a word about it to anyone. I didn’t want to. I liked that we had a secret. I didn’t feel like I was being molested, I felt like I was being loved. I was absolutely devastated when Harriet broke up with him. It was as though she’d ripped my heart in half and I was so angry at her, at Mum and Dad, at everyone. I only saw him one more time after that and I remember bawling my eyes out, begging him to still come over and see me. He was crying too and he said he’d never forget me, that he’d always love me, but that I had to let him go. He basically broke up with me. It was fucking awful. I felt like he’d died. And then, later that same year, we did sex ed at school.’ He folds his arms across his chest, hugging himself as he stares straight ahead – he’s barely looking at me as he’s talking. ‘That was very confusing. Over time, I came to understand that I had been abused, and I felt so fucked up. What confused me more than anything else – what I was so ashamed about and why I never could bring myself to tell a single soul – was that I had let him touch me. And I had touched him. He hadn’t forced me to – I had been glad to do it. I hadn’t been sexually aroused – not really, not like him – but then came puberty and that was a total head-fuck. My mates were into girls and porn – Glen had already shown me some porn and I remember feeling a little weird about it, but once I hit puberty it affected me on a whole other level. Sex turned me on. Sex with girls, I mean – I was never into guys. After I realised that Glen was a paedophile, I tried to bury what had happened down deep. I just wanted to forget it. But then, when I was sixteen, I got a girlfriend who was in the year above me. She’d already had sex with a previous boyfriend, and the first time we did it, I was flooded with memories. It made me feel dirty and tainted the whole experience, but it’s not like I hadn’t also enjoyed it. I was so confused, I behaved like a total arsehole afterwards. She tolerated me for a little while but soon broke up with me and labelled me a bastard. Fuck knows why, but that seemed to attract more girls. Sex made me feel better about what Glen had done to me. But at the same time, it made me feel dirty. The more sex I had, the more girls I fucked, the better – and worse – I felt. And I never really got to know any of the girls. Once we’d had sex, we were done, as far as I was concerned. They were tainted – I’d tainted them.’
He drags his hands across his face and lets out an exasperated groan before staring at me. His eyes are flat and dull. Lifeless.
‘So yeah. Does that answer your question?’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper, reaching for his hand again. He lets me take it, but it’s limp.
‘Sometimes, Hannah,’ he says in a deep, dark voice that sends a chill down my spine, ‘I think you and I are so damaged that being together might be the worst thing we could possibly do to each other. We’re both dealing with so much shit from our pasts. I’m worried that you should have someone who’s a bit more stable and balanced, someone who can really be there for you.’
‘No.’ I shake my head fervently, gripping his hand. ‘That’s you. However unstable you may feel at times, you never unsteady me. Do I make you feel worse?’
‘No,’ he mumbles, pain overcoming some of the dull bleakness of a moment ago – it’s better; he looks more alive. ‘When I’m with you, I feel as though you’re filling a hole. That emptiness I told you about? I hardly ever feel that when I’m with you. Somehow, you eliminate the gaps.’
His eyes begin to shine.
‘Oh, Sonny,’ I murmur, scrambling to hug him. His arms come around me and I pull his head against my chest, but can’t get close enough so I act on impulse and straddle his lap, bringing my body flush to his. He holds me tightly and I hope I’m helping to eliminate a gap now.
I only wish he could fill the void Anna left, but I know that no one will ever be able to do that.
Chapter 36
‘What are your plans for today?’ I ask Sonny as he drives Bertie and me to Umeko’s.
After our very heavy chat we managed to have a surprisingly ordinary breakfast. Sonny’s only qualm was the absence of bacon because he felt like a fry-up, but he settled for a cheese and chive omelette, preparing it while I got ready for work.
‘I’ve got a photo shoot at a shelter with a homeless man called Derek,’ he tells me, answering my question.
‘I’d love to come to one of these photo shoots,’ I say.
‘You can, if you like.’
‘What time are you doing today’s?’
‘Eleven, so probably no good for you, but I might be able to arrange one for Monday next week?’
‘That would be great!’
His phone buzzes. I glance down instinctively and see a message has flashed up from Archie.
‘What does it say?’ Sonny asks me casually.
‘It’s from Archie. I didn’t see what it said.’ The phone’s screen has gone black again.
‘Four two seven four,’ he prompts, and it takes me a moment to realise he’s told me his phone’s security code.
I pick up his phone and tap in the code, reading aloud: ‘Stranger Things tonight? M’s asking H.’
He looks at me. ‘I’m in if you are?’
‘You’re not sick of me?’
‘Are you sick of me?’ he asks with a frown.
‘Absolutely not!’ I reply indignantly.
He laughs and nods at his phone. ‘Do you want to reply?’
‘Happy to. What shall I say?’
‘Sounds good. H is with me. We’re in.’
‘You want to tell him we’re together at this time of the morning? Isn’t that going to bring on a barrage of questions?’
‘Oh, sure. Okay. Just say “sounds good” then.’
By the time I’ve done that, he’s pulled up outside Umeko’s. He cuts the ignition and gets out of the car, meeting me round at the back. He holds Bertie’s collar in place while I attach her lead.
‘Thanks.’ I don’t know why, but suddenly I feel shy.
‘So I’ll see you tonight?’ he asks, his eyes searching mine.
I nod, having no idea how to say goodbye to him after what we’ve been through. I tug Bertie and she dutifully hops out of the car.
He cups the back of my head and briefly touches his cheek to mine before withdrawing. ‘Bye,’ he says quietly, slamming the boot shut and turning to get into his car.
I listen to the car drive away as I walk to Robert and Umeko’s front door. Before my finger can make contact with the doorbell, the sound of someone shouting ‘Oi!’ makes me spin on my heel.
Matilda is striding towards me, her jaw on the pavement.
‘What the hell have you two been getting up to while we’ve been in France?’ she hisses when she’s close enough for me to hear.
I laugh. So much for no questions.
‘Don’t get excited,’ I say. ‘He’s still very much committed to his six-month thing.’
‘But things have moved on, right?’
‘Um . . . Kind of. I don’t know. Listen, argh, I’m late for work, but I’m coming to yours later.’
‘We will talk on the way there,’ she replies ever-so-slightly threateningly.
‘Okay!’ I manically agree.
Needless to say, I’m a little flustered when I walk through the door of Umeko’s, so I don’t realise Abbey is looking like the cat that got the cream until I’m sitting at my desk. She’s staring at me, her face stretched into the biggest, most excited grin. She looks fit to burst.
‘What on earth is it?’ I ask with a giggle.
‘Guess who’s just made an appointment!’ she cries.
I shrug. ‘Who?’
‘No, you have to guess.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, it could be anyone.’
&n
bsp; ‘They’re famous.’
I laugh. ‘Still could be any number of people.’
‘Have a go,’ she urges.
I indulge her. ‘Someone from Grantchester?’
‘Way more famous than that! Oh, and they live locally!’
I frown at her. Stephen Hawking is, alas, no longer with us. Who else? Obviously there’s Joe and Alice Strike but there’s no way— Or is there?
‘Joseph Strike?’ I ask, cringing with one eye closed because I’m expecting her to laugh at me.
She slams her hands down on the table, looking like she’s going to spontaneously combust. ‘HIS KIDS!’ she scream-whispers.
My eyebrows jump up. ‘Really?’
‘YES!’
‘Surely Joseph won’t bring them in himself,’ I say with a frown.
She jiggles in her seat. ‘He might do! Or maybe it will be Alice! But it could also be the nanny,’ she acknowledges. ‘Either way, we still get to meet the kids!’ she cries excitedly. ‘It’ll be the best day ever!’
Okay, even I am a little excited about this and I rarely go gooey over celebrities.
Joseph Strike is an actor – we’re talking Hollywood blockbusters, Oscars, Baftas, the works. Alice was his first love, but they lost contact before he became famous only to later find each other again. They now have two kids: Jack, who Abbey informs me is five and a half, and Rebecca, who is three.
Umeko has told Abbey to book in a quadruple appointment so there won’t be a crossover of clients. The appointment is in three weeks and we’ll shut up shop for the duration of the visit – apparently they’ll compensate for potential loss of sales.
‘Why don’t they have someone go to their house to do eye tests?’ I wonder.
‘I’ve heard they try to live as normal a life as possible, although they do have bodyguards. One will be accompanying them. How weird is that?’
‘Weird but cool,’ I say.
‘I can’t wait!’ she erupts, clapping her hands like a child.
*
The rest of the day passes by uneventfully. I haven’t heard from Sonny. I know he’s busy with his photo shoot, but I can’t help wondering how he’s feeling after last night and this morning. It was so full on. I’m glad I told him about Anna, but even though he reacted better than I could have hoped, I don’t know how he’ll feel once he processes everything.
It’s true what he said: we both have so much from our pasts to deal with. What if it’s all too much for the other person to handle?
Something that Charles once said comes back to me. It was when he was trying to convince me to confide in Nina and Danielle. He told me that I could always depend on him, that he was family and he would always be there for me, but my friends would be the ones to take me through life, guiding and supporting me.
‘One person alone can’t cope with another person’s emotional baggage,’ he said. ‘If I vented to June about everything that vexed me, she’d feel put-upon and anxious – and vice versa. We need to offload onto others, share the burden. That’s what friends are for, helping to carry the load.’
I wonder . . . If I were brave enough to tell Matilda about my past, would Sonny consider confiding in Archie?
*
Earlier Matilda persuaded me to go straight to hers from work and bring Bertie. I’d prefer to change out of my uniform, but I’m too tired to walk home so I decide to put the journey off until later.
She’s ready to leave work when I am so we set off together.
‘How was your holiday?’ I ask.
‘Bugger that, tell me what’s going on with you and Sonny.’
I hate that my life is so complicated. It would be so much easier if Matilda knew everything.
There are a few reasons why I don’t talk about Anna.
One: It hurts. That’s the main reason. It’s agonising to talk about what happened so I prefer not to put myself through the trauma.
Two: I was brought up guarded, shielded from the public eye, taught to value my privacy. That, in itself, is hard to get past. I was scared to death the day I confided in Danielle and Nina; as it turned out, they were lovely. But later Danielle pushed back and made me feel, I don’t know, icky. I never trusted easily anyway and lowering my defences at university turned out to be a huge mistake.
Three: Although I’m not ashamed of Anna, I still don’t want to be regarded as different. As a child, I felt normal. Being attached to Anna was my everyday reality. We didn’t mix with other children, so we didn’t know how unusual we were. That realisation came later.
At primary school, I had a hard enough time trying to fit in. And in the years that followed, I came to understand how much the idea of conjoined twins freaks most people out. People struggle to see past the idea of two humans being joined together by flesh and bone. I knew that, once their had conjured up that image, they’d never look at me the same way again.
When I was a teenager, I considered telling people that I’d had a twin sister who’d died, omitting the fact that we were conjoined. But that seemed disloyal to Anna. It would also have likely raised questions about how she died, and I couldn’t have brought myself to lie about that. I already feel dirty every time I tell someone I’ve been in a car crash – a story Charles and June helped me to construct when I went to live with them because it was simple and relatable. I’ve stuck to it for years, but unfortunately it sometimes dredges up more questions and I have to say I don’t want to talk about it rather than build on the lie. I’ve learned that this sidestepping of the question only makes people more curious, and it would have been the same if I’d told them I’d lost my twin. As I couldn’t fabricate details about Anna’s death, it was easier not to talk about her at all. Not easier exactly, but more straightforward.
So how do I explain to Matilda that Sonny stayed over last night because I needed him on an emotional level?
Suddenly I’m sick of the secrets, the burden. I like Matilda so much – she feels as though she could be a lifetime friend, someone I’ll always know. I was touched when she opened up to me about her dad and the fears she has about getting married. Our friendship has moved past being superficial and I’m glad of it.
I might’ve promised myself that I would never again confide in people I hardly knew, but I feel as though I do know Matilda. If I listen to my heart, I believe that I can trust her.
‘He stayed over last night,’ I admit shakily, going with my gut feeling.
She gasps and looks at me.
‘Not like that. It was because I was a bit of a mess. He was comforting me.’
Her face falls. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s a long story.’ My apologetic tone belies how much of a big deal this is to me.
‘Okay,’ she replies slowly. ‘Archie won’t be home for another hour or so . . . Do you want to talk about it when we get to mine?’
‘Maybe, but . . .’ I try to swallow the panic that is creeping up my throat. ‘I find it difficult to open up to people.’
‘Hey,’ she says gently, and stops walking.
I turn to her and see that her green eyes are brimming with concern.
‘I’m not just “people”,’ she chides softly. ‘I’m your friend.’ She shifts her gaze to the footpath. ‘I’m probably going to sound like a bit of Norman No Mates now,’ she mumbles self-consciously. ‘But to be honest, Hannah, in the short time we’ve known each other, you’ve become one of, if not the, closest friend I’ve got. I haven’t really bonded with anyone else since I moved up here, but it’s not like I had loads of mates back in London, either. I like Faith, but I’m not particularly close to her.’
‘I feel the same about you,’ I confess, casting her a small smile.
She grins at me. ‘Phew. Well, I’m here to stay, all right? ver it is, I’ll be here for you.’
‘Thank you,’ I whisper, my eyes pricking with tears as we arrive at her front door.
I don’t go into all of the details that I shared with Sonny, but I do tell Matil
da about Anna, about how we were conjoined and how she died after the operation to separate us. I also try to explain why I prefer not to talk about her.
She falls silent, deep in thought, and I give her time and space to formulate what she wants to say, even though I’m nervous about her reaction.
‘I get what you’re saying,’ she begins at last. ‘And I believe you when you say you’re not ashamed,’ she adds as I fixate on my wine glass. ‘You’re right when you say that people will see you differently, but that’s not a bad thing. Far from it. Maybe when you were a teenager and you wanted to fit in like everyone else, but not now, not with your friends.’ She reaches across the table and presses her hand to mine. ‘I completely understand how you might not want to make it common knowledge, but friends – we – should know you. Your differences are what make you unique. They’re what make you you. By not telling us about Anna, we’d never really know the real you. Your differences are your truth.’
I nod, my bottom lip quivering.
She ducks down to catch my eye. ‘I do see you differently now, I’ll be honest. Sonny will too, and so will Archie when you tell him – and I hope you will, or that you’ll allow me to.’
I nod again, giving her permission.
‘I see you differently, and I like you even more,’ she adds with a tearful laugh, squeezing my hand and ensuring I maintain eye contact. ‘What you’ve been through . . . How strong you are . . . Fucking hell, Hannah, you’re amazing.’
She starts to laugh and, against all the odds, I do too.
*
Archie and Sonny arrive together, having been via his to talk about the poster design. They’re still talking about it as they walk into the kitchen.
‘Hello!’ Archie says when he spies me sitting with Matilda at the dining room table. I get to my feet to give him a hug. ‘You came straight from work?’ he asks.
‘No, this is my clubbing outfit,’ I reply, giving him a half-curtsey.
He laughs and goes to kiss Matilda, leaving me to face Sonny.
‘Hey,’ he says, leaning down to press his cheek to mine, his hand touching the small of my back. ‘You all right?’ he asks as he withdraws.