‘It will get out. Everyone will think I’m crazy.’ I mean, I am crazy. I’m starting to realise just how crazy after years of blocking it out and pretending otherwise. Only since becoming Gretel and having to withhold so much have I realised the true extent of it all and how much I leak it out, like a malfunctioning madness sprinkler.
‘Anyone who works for a charity is a bit crazy, that’s the law.’
I manage a smile.
‘I won’t tell anyone, April. I promise.’
We lock eyes again. ‘You’re a pretty good buddy, you know that, yeah?’
‘Right back at you.’
‘Will you go and get my stuff? Tell everyone I’m not feeling well?’
‘Yes, of course. Mike said to take the rest of the day off. He’s organised for Carol to come in tomorrow though.’
My smiles fades. ‘What?’
‘April, you’re amazing and I’m very fond of you, but you can’t call a user a rapist and not get called in for an extra supervision.’
‘But he is a rapist!’
‘April—’
‘Thanks for getting my stuff,’ I interrupt him, needing to get rid of him before I cry yet more new tears. ‘I’ll wait here if that’s OK?’
He wants to say more but he doesn’t. ‘That’s fine. I’ll be back in ten minutes.’
I’m left alone until Matt returns. I don’t cry actually, just stare at the sky quite a lot, trying to remember what overcast feels like, what needing a cardigan feels like, what sanity feels like.
We hug when he gets back. I thank him again. Then I slouch my way to the Tube and back to the flat that I left not so very long ago and lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling again.
It’s time to get ready for Joshua. I peeled off my work clothes the moment I got in, so I collect them off the floor and step back into them. I check my phone. There’s an email from Chrissy, reminding me of the upcoming hen do.
‘You can fuck right off you smug, fucking prat,’ I find myself saying out loud, and then laughing hysterically.
I email back. ‘Can’t wait!!!’
I get back on the Tube. I practise smiling like I might mean it. I imagine a different day from this day, and wonder what Gretel would’ve done. ‘Isn’t this weather the best?’ she would say. ‘I had lunch out in the park. It was lush.’ I get off at Leicester Square and fight my way through the sweaty throngs of tourists who don’t know where to go or how to find out, weaving through them with the directional arrogance of a seasoned Londoner. I dodge past the M&M’s shop and wonder why and how it is a) allowed, and b) so popular. I see Joshua waiting for me outside the cinema, and enjoy watching him for a moment in screensaver mode. An anonymous face in this city too full of anonymous faces. He looks up and spots my face. A grin splinters his in two. He is genuinely happy to see her. He cannot hide that at all. I walk forward, smiling back. We meet. We kiss. He slings an arm over my shoulder, and steers me towards the entrance.
‘I’ve been dreaming about this all day …’ he starts, leaning over to kiss my neck. ‘The air con, I mean.’
‘You’re hilarious.’
‘You know that’s not the only reason.’
We kiss again and cause a little bit of a blockage on the packed pavements. I push him away like I don’t want to push him away. ‘Air con. Now.’
‘Whatever you want, O Demanding One.’
‘Not demanding. Just hot.’
He kisses my face. ‘So, did you have a good day at work?’ he asks, just as we push through the double doors and have our skin erupt into welcome goosebumps.
‘Today?’ I ask. ‘Oh yeah, it was great. I had lunch in the park. It was lush.’
The Top 5 Most Common Lies I’ve Told Men
1) ‘I’m fine.’
2) ‘I don’t mind.’
3) ‘That’s fine.’
4) ‘Oh, I hadn’t even thought about it.’
5) ‘Yeah, of course I did.’
Carol has her special voice on. Her soft as a feather dipped in three-minute miracle voice. Her ‘I’m here for you’ voice. Her ‘you can tell me’ voice. It’s quite hard to hear above all the fans whirring around us, fruitlessly combating the heat.
‘What was that?’
‘I said, how are you feeling today, April?’
I cross my arms. ‘I think we both know I’m not feeling great. This wasn’t a scheduled supervision, was it?’ It’s not like me to be so spiky. But I’m not really sure who