Bluff, page 13
He made it sound like she had manipulated him. I tried to replay seeing them, but the night was too blurry, over a decade ago. Perhaps I had had a sinking feeling when they had gone off together. Still, something didn’t feel quite right here. I couldn’t put my finger on it. ‘So, you don’t come back so much?’ I asked.
‘A couple of times, over the years, but I guess I don’t feel the need to,’ he replied, taking another swig and suppressing a burp. ‘I mean, is that surprising, given what I just said? I sense you don’t come back much either. Work is good and I have some family there. And, well, I’m getting married later this year. She’s Canadian. This will be my last Christmas trip alone.’
‘Congratulations,’ I muttered, with as much sincerity as I could muster.
We stood awhile in silence. At one end of the room, a large oak fireplace glimmered with fairy lights. Its mantelpiece was filled with Christmas cards. I scanned them, looking for a snowy field with a rabbit, but there wasn’t one. A tree, laden with silver stars, stood in a corner of the room. One of my mother’s paintings, I noticed now, hung on another wall. Two crabs on a table, facing each other.
I could hear goodbyes in the hallway. I thought Adam was about to leave too, when he spoke again. ‘I hear you’re getting married too. Congratulations.’ He was nodding and smiling, but the smile didn’t meet his eyes.
‘Who told you that?’ My throat felt dry.
‘Oh, just people, you know,’ he said, sounding Canadian again and gesturing to the emptying room. ‘Your sister.’
‘Fucking hell,’ I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. ‘The family rumour mill.’ It was time for me to be getting home. ‘Gotta find Kirstin, now you mention her,’ I said, turning to leave, with a feeling of relief. ‘Good to catch up.’
‘Did you have a thing with Joanie?’ he asked, as I was about to walk away. ‘It’s all in the past so you can be honest with me. Is that why you’re bringing this up?’
I shook my head, staying rooted to the spot. ‘It’s just funny. Nobody I speak to seems to know where she is.’
‘Or maybe they just don’t want to tell you.’ He laughed and started to walk off, placing his empty glass on one of the bookshelves. How thoughtful.
‘If you’re the guy,’ I said, looking at him intently as he turned his back, my words slurring slightly from nerves or drunkenness, I wasn’t sure which. ‘If you’re the guy …’ He was already away. I dropped my voice. ‘You will live to regret this.’
Extract from ‘Who’s Afraid of the Dark?’ by Joanie Sinclair, 2012
There was silence, for a while. I don’t know how long. I hoped that, somehow, he had disappeared. A ghost. Maybe my house was haunted.
Then a beam of torchlight slid under the door.
25
Joanie, September 2013
Things were different after the mushrooms on the beach. Joanie couldn’t stop thinking about Vik. Her anxiety was replaced by a more positive twin, an energy that made her twist her hair around her fingers as she stood in the empty café, waiting for something to happen.
How’s it going with the café guy? Cara texted. Joanie’s heart leaped. So much time had passed that she had wondered whether they would ever talk again. Nevertheless, she had been following Cara’s life through a steady stream of social-media posts. Each image was like a postcard from another universe.
Joanie checked her phone. Cara’s last post was a tousled selfie in which she was squinting into a camera flash. Cameron liked every photo Cara posted, Joanie noticed. Sometimes he would leave cringy little comments in French. Under the latest, Joanie typed: We get it, Cameron. You’re getting ready for your French degree. Then she deleted her reply, thinking better of it. She had seen him once as she was walking to work: he was getting into a car in town. Before she could wave hello, she had felt an inexplicable pang of shame about the party and turned sharply into a side-street to avoid him. Looking at his profile, she saw something about his new job at a pub in Dundee. And, not that she was keeping track, it looked like something was going on between him and the awful girl he had been talking to at the beach. Mia’s friend, Chloë. She must have been the reason he didn’t warn her about Adam.
And, in terms of Cara’s question, how was it going with Vik? She liked the fact that he didn’t know anything about her. He didn’t have social media.
Not much to report, Joanie replied, but we might have had a moment …
She didn’t want to speak too soon. When their shifts overlapped, they smiled at each other like before, but didn’t talk much, beyond polite conversation. She was waiting for him to say something more, to progress whatever was going on between them. She didn’t want to look desperate. Besides, the café had grown a lot busier in the past few days now that the students were back. As she served drinks, their kiss had replayed in her head over and over, in saturated 1950s technicolour. Had the kiss been real? Had it counted?
One Wednesday morning in mid-September, a text popped up on her phone that had been sent in the early hours of the morning.
Adam.
Hey, I hope you’re doing well. I’m on my way over to visit my folks. Would be great to talk to you.
Joanie didn’t know how to feel. A pang of longing was quickly replaced by anger. It was too late: she had moved on. Maybe things would have been different if he had phoned her with an apology several months ago. He was on his way over anyway? How convenient. She couldn’t stop rereading the message, unsure how to reply.
Then, just as she was getting ready for work around noon, Adam started to call her. She let it ring out. Another text popped up. Am in town, you about? X
She decided she wouldn’t reply; he was making her late for work.
As she hurried through the entrance to the quad, she bumped into Vik walking the other way, his leather book bag slung across his body. All thoughts of Adam disappeared.
His smile made her breath quicken. In fact, she barely registered his words when he said, ‘Mia’s gone.’
‘What?’
He moved closer, repeating the words, whispering them into her ear.
Instinctively she threw her arms around his neck. He drew his face close to hers and they moved into a doorway. Their kiss was hungry, her body hot and charged against his. They left with their eyes to the ground, smiling, Joanie to the café and Vik to the library. For the next couple of hours, the incident buoyed her, like a balloon. She reapplied her lipstick in the toilet, wanting more.
‘Mia has gone, it’s true,’ said Erin, when Joanie found the right moment to quiz her. ‘Before you ask, I don’t know why.’
That just didn’t feel believable.
‘There’s something else,’ Erin said. ‘A note came for you.’
Joanie’s stomach sank. Surely not. Reluctantly, she unfolded the piece of lined paper, torn from a notebook. A message read, I’m back home for a while. I need to see you. Adam. His scrawled handwriting seared into her eyes. She read it again. There was no apology.
‘He came into the café?’ Joanie asked Erin, who was making tea at the counter.
‘I don’t know,’ Erin said. ‘It was just lying here, when I arrived.’
Joanie’s hand was shaking as she held the note. How did Adam even know she was here? Surely Mia hadn’t told him. Adam could have texted her. Something about the physical object invading her space was unsettling. She remembered the way that, at school, he had sometimes passed her a note in the corridor. Those moments had brightened her day, but now they made her shudder. She looked out of the window at the empty quad. She ripped the note in half and threw it into the bin.
When Joanie left the café to go home for the day, she heard her name being called from across the road. She looked over to see Adam, standing there in flesh and blood and board shorts, waving at her solemnly. Her heart pounded as she started to walk away.
He called her name again, then ran over, narrowly dodging a passing car.
Joanie felt numb, looking up at him, waiting for him to speak.
‘Hey,’ Adam said, in his deep voice. There was a determined look in his eye. He put his hand on her arm and she pulled it away. His body was so familiar to her, yet this was horrible. They stood staring at each other in silence. He tried to smile at her, which enraged her. Apart from some stubble, he looked the same as ever. His annoyingly wide eyes. The irritating jawline.
‘What is it?’ asked Joanie. She looked around for anyone they might know. ‘Why are you here?’
‘You got my note?’ With his long hair, he looked like an ex-member of a boy band who had learned to surf. ‘I tried to call.’
Joanie shrugged.
‘Like I said, I’m back for a few days to see my folks and it got me thinking. I just want to talk to you.’ He smiled at her hopefully. He had two pointed canine teeth that had always added a wolfish touch to his angelic face.
‘No,’ said Joanie. ‘I don’t want to.’ She didn’t need this. Not when her life was starting to take shape again.
‘Please,’ said Adam, edging even closer. ‘It’s important.’
The practised, pleading smile again. She knew it too well. He would use it when he wanted money, cigarettes or beer. Joanie sighed, closing her eyes. She knew when he wanted something he didn’t give up. ‘I can talk for ten minutes. Then I’ve got to get home.’
‘Altman’s? It’ll take five minutes.’
‘Sure.’
Altman’s was nostalgic and welcoming, a place her friends used to go to play darts. As soon as they entered, she realized it was not the right setting for an uncomfortable conversation. It held so many good memories and she didn’t want to taint them. She started to feel hot, even as they descended into the cool cellar bar. As they looked for a table, she recognized her neighbour Sarah Donaldson, Graham’s sister, pulling pints. Joanie slid, head dipped, into a booth.
Adam brought her a Diet Coke from the bar. The ice cubes clinked against the glass as he pushed it towards her. She pretended she hadn’t seen it, hating that he knew what she liked to drink without asking. The folk music that pumped from the speakers sounded infuriatingly happy.
‘Is there something interesting on that wall?’ Adam asked, in the voice he used when he expected a laugh.
Joanie turned to him, her eyebrows raised. Looking at him was hard. As hurt as she felt, she still noticed the perfect proportions of his face. This beautiful man had found her lacking. Was that to be expected?
‘Look,’ he was saying, in an affable tone, ‘I get that you don’t want to talk to me. You made that pretty clear. You didn’t answer any of my messages, so I didn’t really have a choice but to come and find you.’
Whenever Joanie began to soften, an image of his half-naked body on top of Mia’s lurched back into her mind’s eye. ‘How did you find me?’ she asked flatly.
It was his turn to look away, scratching his neck. Clearly, it was a question he didn’t want to answer.
‘Are you still in touch with Mia?’ she asked, not giving up.
‘No. No-no-no.’ He waved her question away like a politician. He sighed. Subject closed. ‘As you don’t have much time, I just wanted to tell you. I was drunk. I admit that.’
‘Why, though?’ Joanie asked, her voice quiet. ‘Why her?’ This was something that had plagued Joanie since the moment she had found them. Mia was the last person she would have expected him to go for. She was so deeply uncool. Even in her wildest moments of self-loathing, Joanie knew she was more attractive than Mia. Mia didn’t wear any makeup or even style her hair most days. How could it have happened?
He shrugged, somewhat theatrically. ‘People make mistakes, don’t they? It was a big mistake.’ He took her hand across the table and she pulled it away. He carried on talking, regardless. ‘The long and short of it is, I just want to be with you.’ He grabbed her hand again and this time gripped it tightly. ‘You need to come back to Canada with me. You’d love it there.’
‘Adam, let go.’ His hand had held hers a thousand times. It was painful to ask him to stop.
He dropped it, then looked at her, his head cocked to the side. ‘Can we at least be friends again? This has been such a tough time. For both of us.’
Joanie’s stomach twisted. ‘What? You’re not going to apologize?’
He looked deep into her eyes, hands wrapped around a pint of IPA. ‘I just want to forget about that night, to be honest with you. It was so stupid. But obviously I’m sorry. Very sorry.’
Stupid. The sex was stupid. She wanted to kick him under the table. Instead, she looked at the half-melted ice cubes floating in her Diet Coke and gave them a swirl. ‘I spoke to Mia. I don’t think you’re telling me everything. I think you’re still in touch, for one thing. How else could you have found me?’ She wasn’t sure she believed Mia, but wanted to gauge his reaction.
‘What are you doing speaking to her? It’s a small town. It wasn’t hard to find out where you were.’ He was gulping his drink, still looking at her intently.
‘I can’t believe you think I’d follow you to Vancouver.’
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His expression hardened. ‘Mia’s lying. Take it from me.’
Joanie laughed sarcastically, ‘Oh, you’d know about lying, wouldn’t you? Better than anyone.’ The sand dunes, the stars. That moaning noise.
Adam looked frustrated. ‘Don’t be like that, Joanie. Don’t be petty.’ He looked around the empty bar, lowering his voice. ‘I’m trying to tell you, my girlfriend, that I … I love you.’ He leaned forward as she finally took a sip of her drink. ‘I think what we had was pretty fucking special, don’t you? I mean, I don’t think we’re going to get much better than this.’
Joanie almost spat out some Coke. Than this? She looked at him, remembering how she had felt when he had kissed her for the first time. Gratitude. She had never been able to articulate it before now but she had been grateful for his attention. And he had enjoyed her gratitude, even expected it. He had changed how the rest of the year had seen her. It was true that she had never been a geek, not like Mia, but she hadn’t been anything special. He had made it clear what he liked her to wear. He used to tell her, even bought her clothes. Somehow she had felt the pressure to lose weight, to wear more makeup. She hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time. To try to keep his attention, while he spent time with other girls. It wasn’t going to get much better than that?
‘I’ll take my chances, Adam,’ she replied, getting up from her seat. She didn’t look back, as she made her way up the stairs and out of the pub, her pulse racing.
The next day was Thursday. In the evening, Joanie went to the meditation class in the library as she usually did. Lines from her conversation with Adam had been flying around her head all day. Each word made her feel angry. She wondered if she had overreacted. She knew if she told her mother what had happened that that would be the conclusion her mum would come to.
She wanted to talk to Cara about it, but her friend hadn’t replied to her last message about Vik and she didn’t want to bother her. She could see online that Cara’s life was busy. She tried to make it seem glamorous, but looking after three children must be exhausting.
Joanie took a deep breath and lay down on her side, towards the back of the room. She felt so tense that the hard floor was oddly welcome on her muscles. Erin was handing out blankets. She heard footsteps and saw Vik’s socked feet saunter past her. She turned on to her back and watched him move towards the front and lie down without looking around. She pretended she hadn’t seen him either. Then she closed her eyes, waiting for the class to start, trying to be in the moment, trying to quieten her mind.
After a few minutes, she heard someone else lie down beside her, their feet scuffing the floor. She sensed it was someone big, too close. She opened her eyes in the dim light and saw that the man looking back at her, unsmiling, was Adam.
‘Jesus.’ Her voice was a whisper in her dry throat.
He turned on his back, nonchalantly, gazing up at the ceiling. A smile barely visible.
She bolted upwards and started to gather up her jumper and shoes, her face flushing. She dared not look back at Adam or anyone who might be staring at her as she pushed her way out through the heavy doors. Was the guy trying to intimidate her? Was this a joke to him? She started along the gravel path to get as far away as possible from the town.
A man’s voice called her name in the cool evening air.
She spun round to see Vik walking towards her, his shoes still undone, his face full of concern. Tears stung the corners of her eyes.
‘Are you OK?’ He came closer, touching her arm, gently.
‘Can we just get out of here?’ she asked.
26
Cameron, 29 December 2023
It was nearly the end of the year and I didn’t know what I had to show for it. I thought I had only had a few drinks at the party the night before, but my head felt surprisingly fuggy. That morning, I sat at the old desk in my former bedroom and opened my leather-bound notebook, the Christmas present from my parents, intending to make a list of new-year resolutions on its generously sized pages.
The two small Christmas cards fell out from inside the cover. I had forgotten I had tucked them in there when I had come home from the party, still thinking about Adam. The only resolution I wanted was to find out who the hell had sent them. I wrote out a list of people. Tatey? Adam D? Joanie’s stepdad?
I opened the yearbook again and gazed at Joanie’s photo, imagining what she would look like now. Strangely, I remembered spending too long staring at the back of her head through hours of history class. Once or twice, her long, tawny hair had accidentally brushed my hand when she leaned back in her chair.
