l o s t [m.h, g.d]

14

And so it continued. We didn't go out anymore. If we did we just felt alienated from everyone else having a good time. Matty and George made music, lots of it. I sat with them and listened. Never getting bored of the repetitive process of it all. It was my one consolation. The fact that they could still communicate, they were still intact. Matty had grown cold with me, recoiling from the way it made him feel to talk to me, to touch me. I felt more and more like a parasite. Toxic. Crawling around in his mind, in his body. But he was the one that had asked me to stay. We were keeping each other for our own mentally masochistic purposes.

I knew George noticed. He was tense, unbelievably so, when the three of us were together with no distractions. On our own our dynamic had changed also. I had to restrain myself from using him. Like an addiction. Because that was what my feelings for him were close to.

I'd taken to walking up to the beach and sitting in my car, alone.

The cartons of petrol sloshed in the boot. The insides smelt like seaweed and wind now.

I'd take my bag every time, not exactly intending to leave, but certainly giving my self the option. I'd stuff it under the glove box and sit with my feet on the pedals, my hands folded in my lap.

And that was how it happened. That's how everything finally changed. I'd walked to the beach, with my clothes in my bag. I'd opened the boot to check the petrol cartons were still there. I'd gotten into the car, stuffed my bag under the glove box and sat back with my feet on the pedals.

I tried to cry. On the off chance it would make me feel better. Nothing to give.

I looked out along the beach, conjuring up the misty figures of George and Matty, though I hadn't known their names then. I hadn't known their names until I was already in their flat. Already half way too deep.

I tapped half heartedly on the steering wheel. The map was still crumpled up where I had left it on the front passengers seat. I deliberated on picking it up, folding it, putting it away. But that felt like a way of ensuring I wasn't leaving. So I didn't. I still wanted to feel I had options, no matter how bullshit they were.

I opened the glove box and looked inside for something to do.

There was a packet of cigarettes. Half a dozen lighters. Half a packet of biscuits. Crumbs. A mobile phone.

A mobile phone.

I'd completely forgotten about that phone. I'd bought it for ten pounds from a supermarket. I wasn't sure at the time why I was buying it. I didn't use it. I knew I wasn't going to use it. or maybe I knew I would need it. Eventually.

I picked it up tentatively as if it was going to start ringing any minute.

I placed it on my lap and stared down at it. I prodded one of the buttons. The screen lit up. There was only half a bar of battery left.

I started dialling the number fast, before I could change my mind.

'Hallo?'

'...Hi.' I had to force myself to speak. To not chicken out.

'Who's this?'

She didn't know my voice. She didn't know my voice. She didn't know my voice.

'Hello?' there was a pause. I heard the noise of people talking in the background. Maybe she was entertaining. '...Finn. Finn! Is that you?'

I pressed my hand to my mouth, trying not to cry. 'Popsi.' My voice was cracked.

'Oh my god.' Her voice further away now, calling into the house. 'John! It's Finn! On the phone, come here!'

'No... I can't talk for long...' I concentrated on evening out my voice.

'Okay, okay, okay darling girl, that's fine... just tell me you're okay? You're doing fine, right?'

'Yes.' I tried for a watery smile. It made my voice sound brighter, more sure. 'Yes Popsi, I'm fine.'

'Well, where are you?'

I looked around me, out of the windows along the beach. The tide was coming in. 'Some town. The north of England. Staying with some mates.'

A frown in her voice. 'What mates have you got in England?'

'Some guys I know through Melissa.' A lie. 'They're nice. They're letting me crash on their sofa for a bit. Just till I work out what I'm gonna do.' Semi-truth.

'What are you going to do, darling?'

I clammed up. She could tell.

'You are being safe aren't you? You're not... You're not getting yourself into any trouble? I worry about you.'

'I know you do.  I'm fine.'

'Okay. If you say so.' There was some silence before she said, 'Why did you leave?'

'I can't tell you Popsi. It'll sound so silly to you. It'll hurt you.'

'I want to know...'

'I know you do. But I can't. Not right now, do you understand.'

'I worry-'

'Don't worry. You shouldn't worry about me.' She didn't reply. I could almost hear her pain, her frown. Her indecision. 'How are things at home?' Changing the subject. Ha. Tactful of me.

'They're...fine. We all miss you. Rosa has been back for a few days, visiting. She brought her new man to meet us.'

It felt odd. Talking about normal things after the heightened reality of the past few weeks. 'Oh? Is he nice.'

'He's... very hairy.'

I laughed, sniffing afterwards. Rosa had always had a thing for hippies. 'Hairy?'

'Very. Massive beard.'

'Oh dear.' I said laughing a bit more.

'Are you crying, love?'

'No.' I said quickly. 'I'm just... on a beach and- and it's windy.'

'Okay.' There was a pause. 'Are you going to come back to us? We'd like you to.'

'I'd like to too. But...'

The line remained silent.

'But what, darling?'

I couldn't manage more than, 'Do you think people will forgive me?'

'Oh, darling...' She meant to sound sympathetic. But she couldn't disguise her doubt, her resignation. 'I don't think you've made it easy on yourself. But people are nice. They'll understand. You just have to try.'

I nodded. Forgetting that she couldn't see me.

'I love you Popsi.' My sleeve was pressed to my mouth again, almost in my mouth.

'What's that-?'

No noise. Battery gone.