fifty-five. Sephy
‘Hi Callum, old friend! Old buddy! Old pal! How are you on this glorious day? Isn’t it a beautiful Sunday? The birds are singing. Not over here, but somewhere they must be singing, don’t you think? Don’t you think, old buddy? Old pal?’ I burst out laughing.
Callum had a very strange look on his face as he watched me. He wasn’t laughing though. Why wasn’t he laughing? I tried to stop, but the look on his face made me laugh even harder. He leaned forward and sniffed at my breath. The look on his face made me laugh until my eyes began to water.
And the next thing I knew, Callum had me by the shoulders and was shaking me like a country dog shakes a rabbit.
‘S-s-stop i-it . . .’
‘What the hell d’you think you’re doing?’ Callum shouted at me.
The look on his face scared me. Actually scared me. I’d never seen him so furiously angry before. ‘L-let go . . .’
Callum let go of me almost before the words were out of my mouth. I stumbled backwards and fell in a heap. I tried to scramble to my feet but the beach was swaying. If the beach would just stop swaying for two seconds . . .
‘Look at you, Sephy,’ Callum said, his voice ringing with disgust. ‘You’re drunk as a skunk.’
‘I am not. I’ve had just one glass of cider today, that’s all. Or maybe two,’ I giggled, adding conspiratorially. ‘It would’ve been wine, but I don’t want Mother to get suspicious . . .’
‘How could you be so stupid?’ Callum roared. I wished he’d stop. He was making my head hurt. ‘You want to end up like your mother?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ I finally managed to get to my feet, but the whole world was rocking beneath them.
‘I’m not. I can’t stand your mother but at least she had a reason to start. What’s your excuse? Not enough attention? Daddy’s allowance not big enough? Mummy not giving you enough love? Bed not wide enough? Bedroom carpet not plush enough?’
‘Stop it . . .’ I was sobering up fast. Callum was being horrible. ‘Don’t stand there and judge me. How dare you?’
‘If you behave like a complete moron, don’t bleat when that’s how others treat you.’
‘No, you’re worse. You’re a drunk. A lush. An alcy.’
I covered my ears. ‘Don’t say that. That’s enough . . .’
‘Is it? Come on then. I’m waiting to hear your reasons. I’m all ears.’
‘You wouldn’t understand.’
‘Try me.’
‘I’m tired, OK,’ I shouted at him, shouted for the whole world to hear.
‘Tired of what?’
‘Of my mother and father, my sister, of you too if you must know. I’m tired of the way you all make me feel. This is it for me, isn’t it? Be a good girl, study at school, study at university, get a good job, marry a good man, live a good life and they all lived happily ever after. The whole thing just makes me . . . makes me want to puke. I want something more in my life . . .’
‘And you reckon you’ll find it in a wine bottle?’
I kicked at the sand beneath my feet. ‘I don’t know where else to look,’ I finally admitted.
‘Sephy, don’t follow your mother, OK? She’s headed for a mental home – or a coffin. Is that really what you want?’
That made me start and no mistake. Was that really where Mother was going? I didn’t want her to die like that. I didn’t want to die like that. I regarded Callum, seeing myself as he must see me. A silly, pathetic child who thought that drinking was a way to grow older faster. A way to stop feeling, ’cause then nothing could hurt me.
‘I should be getting back,’ I said at last, massaging my throbbing temples.
‘Sephy, promise me you won’t drink any more.’
Callum looked so hurt and unhappy, that I couldn’t leave it there. I just couldn’t.
‘But I promise I’ll try,’ I added.
On the spur of the moment, I leaned forward and kissed Callum on the lips. He moved back.
‘Don’t want to see what kissing is like any more – huh?’ I tried to tease.
‘You stink of alcohol,’ Callum told me.
My smile vanished. ‘D’you know something, Callum? Sometimes you can be just as cruel as my dad is to my mother.’
‘Sorry.’
I turned to walk away.
‘Sephy, I’m sorry.’ Callum pulled me back.
‘Just get lost.’
‘Not without you.’ Callum gave a pathetic attempt at a smile.
‘Leave me alone,’ I screamed at him, knocking his arm away. ‘I should’ve known you wouldn’t understand. I should’ve realized. Besides, you have other fish to fry now. You’re part of the Liberation Militia. You must be so proud of yourselves . .’
‘I’m not a member of the L.M. I never have been,’ Callum denied harshly.
‘How did you know about the bomb at the Dundale then?’
Callum pressed his lips firmly together. I recognized that look, he wasn’t going to say a word.
‘You should’ve let me get blown up, Callum. Sometimes . . . sometimes I wish you had . . .’
Callum kissed me then. And it wasn’t like the first time we’d kissed either. He wrapped his arms around me and closed his eyes and kissed me. And after a startled moment, I did exactly the same.
And it wasn’t bad, either.
But it wasn’t enough. Our kiss deepened and his hands began to wander, and so did mine.
And it made things better. But it wasn’t enough.