folio

Wednesday, 12 January 1994

‘Ugh, look at the rain,’ moaned Anjana, coming to an abrupt standstill at the end of the passageway on Wednesday afternoon, two weeks into the new term. Surreptitiously, she glanced at the stocky character two metres to her left, his shoulder resting against the wall, gaze cutting through the downpour. He looked tired, his eyes sunken in his face, lips turned down into a perpetual frown. On any other day, she would have launched a tirade of abuse at him by now, but this afternoon other thoughts stirred inside.

‘I don’t want you to think I care about you,’ she blurted out loud, stepping closer to him, ‘but you look absolutely terrible these days.’ Halting at his side, she peeked up at him. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ she asked.

Hearing her, Ben glanced back at the dinky girl perplexed. ‘Are you ill?’ he growled. ‘Or is this just the prelude to another of your poison diatribes?’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘Why not? I still have your last assault ringing in my ears.’

‘I haven’t said anything this term,’ she replied.

‘Yes, because what you said before Christmas was so potent and highly concentrated that I’m still reeling from it. What was all that about? I didn’t even understand what you were talking about. Some nonsense about a Christmas card? Why don’t you just stop? Grow up. I can’t take it anymore.’

‘Is that what’s wrong?’ she asked him. ‘If it is, I’m sorry.’

‘You’re sorry? You’re definitely ill.’

‘Well is it?’

Averting his eyes from her, Ben shook his head, annoyed. ‘No. You’re the least of my problems. I’m just tired, really. Literally, figuratively, both. Literally burnt-out. And so, so utterly tired of my life.’

‘Sorry to hear that,’ murmured Anjana, casting her own eyes up into the dark grey sky.

It was a heavy deluge, spears of water plummeting to the ground with such speed that they rebounded high into the air on impact, filling the puddles on the flooded pavement with bubbles, the spotlights on the wall illuminating its full force.

‘I notice you don’t hang around with your gang anymore,’ said Anjana, attempting to steal his gaze from the unceasing streams of water, ‘I notice Siddique’s blanking you all the time. I notice you don’t talk to Kevin.’

At first, Ben scowled at her contemptuously, his lips sealed, and nearly said nothing at all. For a moment, he contemplated turning his back on her, but it was difficult to remain cross in the face of those little dimples that appeared in her rounded cheeks. In the end, he could not help but respond. Perhaps he had been waiting for this moment for months.   

‘Oh well, you know me,’ he sighed, ‘I always screw these things up, don’t I?’

‘Has your dad insisted on it?’

‘Oh, my dad always insists on it, but no, I haven’t just become an obedient boy. This is all my own doing. I was rude about Siddique’s latest girlfriend. He said he wished I’d died that time I got smashed to pieces. I suppose Siddique has no time for people who insult him. I suppose I have no time for people who wish I was dead. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me.’

Standing beside him, Anjana studied his face. She wished she could see his smile again, but the miserable frown remained. He never seemed to smile at all anymore, she thought, witnessing his bent back, and eyes buried deep in the earth. She wished she could reach him. 

‘Ben,’ she said unthinkingly, ‘I was wondering: could I walk home with you tonight?’

Hearing her, the boy gaped back at her, shocked. ‘Why?’ he asked, his eyes acknowledging her at last.

‘I don’t know,’ she muttered, ‘just… just because I feel like… maybe we should.’

‘Is this a dream?’ he asked, confounded.

‘Does it feel like one?’

Ben turned to try the other end of the passage again, hoping desperately for a break in the towering clouds. ‘I’m not sure,’ he replied, ‘Usually you’re flying in my dreams.’

‘Really? I like the idea of that.’ Hearing him, she could not help gazing up into his eyes. ‘Do you dream of me a lot?’ she asked.

‘I know I’ll regret saying this, but, yeah, pretty much all the time these days. Mostly you’re flying, arms outstretched. I’m always on the ground, looking up at you. You never take me with you. Sometimes I see you standing on a mountain, looking down at me. We used to climb them together. I still remember a dream I had years ago. We had our heads in the clouds. We were standing at the top of a mountain, and we could see the whole world down below. I wish I could go there again.’

Ben cast his eyes skyward. It felt like the rain was slowing, its roar diminished. Stepping into the open, he held his palms out before him. Yes, he told himself, it was tolerable now; he would collect his bike and race home, this sprinkling less of a burden. He intended to take leave, hurrying for the bike shed alone, separating from the enigmatic one. Only, when he said goodbye, she followed after him.

‘I’ve been dreaming about you too,’ she told him, watching as he clumsily unthreaded the tangle of chain from the front wheel and frame of his battered bike, and the bent post it was attached to. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I’ve been dreaming of you a lot, but I’m not sure I should tell you about them. They worry me. I don’t know what they mean.’

Rattling his lock impatiently, trying futilely to free it from between two rusty spokes, Ben looked back at her, concerned. ‘Tell me,’ he said emphatically.

‘Let me walk with you and I will,’ she replied, setting off at his side, his bike finally free. 

Amidst a crowd of others suddenly braving the slowing rain, they crossed the playground on foot, a squeaky hub and cogset accompanying them like monotonous birdsong, and passed out through the abused school gates, navigating the treacherous path across the road between the waiting busses. This was not what he had planned, he thought, shivering for a second as a cold stream of water found its way down his neck and onto his back. The rain had lessened, certainly, but it was yet to depart and now he regretted succumbing to Anjana’s plea. Without her, he would have been on his saddle and winding his way home. Yet still, he was curious.

‘So tell me about your dreams,’ he said, wiping the raindrops from his forehead. 

Briefly, Anjana stood still. ‘Every night for the past week I’ve seen you drowning,’ she said gravely. ‘Last night I saw your house swallowed up in a humongous flood. Last week the school flooded, and I saw you go under, but you didn’t come back up. I knew something was wrong before you told me.’

‘I’ve had a few dreams like that myself. The other day I saw myself lying in a pool of blood. I don’t know if I was alive or dead. It bothered me at first, but then I concluded it was just my subconscious mulling over everything that has happened lately. It was probably just what Siddique said to me. I’m not usually so morbid.’

For the next seven minutes, they ambled on in absolute silence, absorbing the rain as it fell. The traffic on the roads was mostly stationary now, brought to a standstill by a driver who could not control his speeding car when he had tried to pass the amber light before it went red an hour ago. Horns blew, but it made no difference; the obscured faces behind the listless fog on their windows would just have to be patient.  

‘So, Ben,’ piped up Anjana all of a sudden, ‘are you going to tell me about Satya?’

‘Satya?’ he spluttered, recoiling.

‘Yes, I was…’

‘You mean the Satya you and Balvinder told to stay away from me? What do you want me to say? What is there to say?’

Walking beside him, the pavement really too narrow for the two of them and his bike, Anjana noticed the way he seemed to shake his head crossly, silent words cascading from his lips.

‘I was wondering what you think of her,’ she said, glancing at him intently. ‘You were staring at her in class on the last day of term,’ she added, when he did not respond. ‘I was wondering what it meant.’

‘It didn’t mean anything,’ he snapped back at her. ‘It was just one of those stupid days.’

‘Do you like her?’

Ignoring her completely, Ben sauntered on, his clothes too damp for comfort, causing him irritation.

‘Well?’ asked Anjana.

‘The first time I met her…’

‘Yes?’

‘Before you lot told her I was the devil incarnate…’

‘That was Bal more than me.’

‘No, I heard,’ he bleated contemptuously. ‘I heard every single last thing you said. But that’s fine, don’t worry, it’s true.’

‘So you like her?’

‘I never said that. I was just going to say that the first time we met she seemed like a nice person. That doesn’t mean anything though. I wasn’t going to chase after her. I couldn’t anyway…’

‘So why were you staring at her?’

‘Because I’m an idiot…’

‘It was like you were infatuated with her.’

‘Infatuated?’ he coughed. ‘No, definitely not.’ For the briefest of moments, he cast his mind back to his humiliation that day, remembering the burning heat that had overwhelmed him. ‘I admit she’s quite pretty,’ he mumbled, nodding. ‘I can’t pretend I never noticed…’

‘I knew it…’

‘No, you don’t know anything. I heard you, you know?’

‘Heard what?’

‘You and your friends laughing about it afterwards,’ he griped bitterly. ‘All day long. Teasing her about it. What was it you said? “Watch out, fatso’s after you!” Yeah, lovely. As if I don’t have enough problems without all this rubbish. But it makes me laugh really, because you lot couldn’t be more wrong. I’ll be honest with you. For a split second, I thought she was beautiful.’

‘So I’m right? You like her.’

‘I said for a split second…’

‘It was a long split second.’

‘She’s the one whose eyes are constantly following me around. But I guess only I deserve an interrogation. She’s screwing with my head.’ 

‘So you think she likes you?’

‘Honestly, I feel like she’s trying to wind me up. Yeah, and it’s working. I admit it, if looks were enough for me…’

‘So you do like her?’

‘No, because looks aren’t enough for me. She’s cute, but it turns out she isn’t the nice person I thought she was after all. She has bad attitude.’

‘She’s opinionated, that’s for sure,’ nodded Anjana, her eyes set straight ahead.

‘What, you’re backbiting your friend now as well?’ asked Ben, steering the bike at his side around a lamp post.

‘No, I’m just…’

‘Why are we even having this conversation?’ he barked aloud. ‘You know, I didn’t think things could get any worse, but last term was so horrific for me. The things I’m dealing with. But then to have your nonsense on top. You know, I don’t know what you did to make her so loyal. Did Balvinder cast a spell on her or something?’

‘Bal’s her cousin…’

‘Seriously, to have Satya going into to overdrive every single day, twisting that jagged dagger of hers in my chest. I just… I just can’t take it anymore.’

‘I know…’

‘So to have you asking me this question, like I’m supposed to be in love with her or something… just think about it. Think about what you’re saying.’

‘I was only asking, because…’

‘Why? Because I’m just an empty shell without feelings? No, sorry Anjana, you have no idea. You have no idea what’s going on in my life at all.’

In the midst of the silence that drew down on them, Ben nearly jumped on his saddle to take flight. If he could have fled, he would have by now, for he had not meant to respond with such furore; now he regretted every word.

‘Sorry for shouting,’ he murmured finally.

‘Don’t be,’ she breathed back. ‘You’re right.’

‘Am I? That must be a first.’

‘Actually, you’re right quite a lot.’

‘Now I’m certain you’re seriously ill.’

‘Not ill, just reflective. Can’t help thinking about everything at the moment. My dreams don’t help.’

‘And me staring at your friend?’

‘Ha, right,’ she chuckled, ‘I admit…’

‘Well, I don’t even like Satya,’ he snorted inadvertently. He glanced at his companion slyly. ‘Am I allowed to say that to you?’

‘I’m glad,’ she laughed, beaming at him.

Somehow, she wished that he would look at her properly, instead of staring ahead. She wished that his eyes would fall upon her face and take in her smile. These were moments she had dreamed of; it could have been pure joy.

‘What about me?’ she asked finally.

‘What about you what?’

‘Am I beautiful?’ she whispered. Was that a smile on his face? Was it really a smile? ‘I won’t take it personally if you say I am,’ she added promptly.

‘You have a beautiful soul,’ he said moments later.

‘Oh no, that’s like saying I’m ugly. You might as well say I’m fat.’ For the briefest twinkling, she laughed out loud. ‘You even said Satya’s pretty. Can’t you spare me a compliment or two?’

‘You’re the most beautiful girl in my dreams,’ he offered, causing her face to glow. 

‘Do you ever dream of Satya?’

‘I’ve seen her once or twice, maybe.’

‘Well then,’ grinned Anjana, ‘I’m more beautiful than Satya. You said it yourself.’

‘In my dreams, you’re an angel.’

‘Oh, that’s so sweet.’

‘But only in my dreams,’ he added hurriedly, scrutinising her face sternly. ‘I don’t know what you are in real life. I’m confused. Puzzled. Some days I catch you looking at me so sweetly that it melts my heart. It’s as if we’re best friends again. But, no, that must be mere delusion. Most of the time you just treat me like dirt.’

Anjana did not remember Ben ever being this direct, and his words caused her heart to twinge, her eyes moistening. ‘I know,’ she muttered, ‘and I’m sorry. I don’t think you deserve it anymore. I’m growing out of that. It’s just become a habit. Bad company. If it was just me and Noor, it wouldn’t be like this. I’m sure of that. Noor’s a good influence on me. She’s always had a soft spot for you. If it wasn’t for my jealousy, she would’ve won you by now.’

‘Why be jealous?’

‘Yes, exactly. Why indeed?’ She waited until his gaze was elsewhere before she wiped the unforeseen tears from her eyes, praying that he would not notice them. ‘But sometimes I am,’ she added mournfully. ‘Don’t go after Satya, will you? I know she’s pretty, but you need more than that to sustain you. Looks don’t last forever. One day she’ll be fat and ugly. And hairy too.’

There would be more silence now. Ben was deep in thought, it seemed; perhaps Anjana was too. Their meander could have brought back old memories, for this route used to be theirs. She wondered if he remembered; if that was what he was thinking. She wondered if he was casting his mind back to better days, recalling all that they used to have.

‘Anjana,’ he began abruptly, ‘maybe there’s something I should tell you.’

‘About us?’

‘About my life.’ Ben was glad that the rain was now but a drizzle. ‘You know I was living with my mum, don’t you? Yeah, well, that fell apart, after… well, everything. Our relationship’s been bad for years now, but it all came to a head last October. She’d had enough of me, so yeah, she just decided to dump me with my dad.’

‘Ugh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’

‘Why would you? Anyway, that didn’t last long, did it? Nope, because then my dad threw me out too, just after Christmas. The same day Siddique’s parents threatened to throw him out as it happens, though I never got to tell him.’

‘What happened?’

‘Oh, well, you know: my dad hates Christmas, doesn’t he? He gets stressed, agitated. And he drinks too much, and when he drinks too much he loses it. Yeah, and he really lost it this time. He had some argument with his girlfriend. It got out of hand, and he ended up lashing out at her. He gave her a black eye and a swollen lip.’

‘That’s awful…’

‘Yeah, she had to call off work. Then she said she was going to leave him. She said she was walking out, but my dad begged her to stay. Blamed Christmas first, told her it stressed him out, but she didn’t want to hear it. So I was next in the firing line. I had to go because I was coming between them, getting in the way, spoiling their relationship. Told me I was to blame. Told me he’d never hit her before, that she’d helped him turn his life around and now I was just ruining everything, just like last time with mum.’

‘I had no idea…’ 

‘So that was that. He put my bags in his car and drove me back to my mum’s place and dumped me there. Maybe he thought she’d be there, maybe he just doesn’t care. Either way, this is my life. I’m back where I started.’

‘And how’s your mum?’ asked Anjana.

‘Who knows? She still can’t keep it together. I don’t remember the last time I saw her sober. Hell, I don’t even remember the last time I saw her at all. She comes and goes. I gave up trying to understand her troubles.’

‘Why don’t you ask her to call my mum?’

‘Why talk when you’ve got booze?’

‘My mum misses her, you know?’

‘Yeah, well, I screwed that up, didn’t I? Mum’s never forgiven me for the way I treated you. She says I broke their relationship. And I guess it’s true. Yes or no?’

‘That’s not how my mum sees it. She’s still fond of you. Of you both.’

‘Really?’

‘Like you have to ask.’

‘That’s something, I suppose. Because right now I feel so broken. I feel so completely alone, so lonely. I feel like I’ve been abandoned by everyone. I’m on my own.’ Wiping his eyes, Ben reflected on what he was saying. ‘But maybe it’s best this way,’ he mumbled, shrugging.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Anjana. ‘You don’t look well these days, at all.’ Gazing at him, a smile nearly pushed out from the corner of her mouth. ‘I mean, it must be bad, mustn’t it?’ she quipped, ‘If even I’m worried about you.’

‘Yeah, I was thinking that myself.’

‘But it’s true,’ Anjana told him. ‘I am. So I’m glad you told me what’s bothering you. It’s all good.’  

‘I needed to let it out, I guess. To get it out of my system. You’re the only person I’ve told. You’re the only person I’ve felt like telling.’

‘Not Sid?’

‘He has his own problems. Always falling in love with bimbos with brains the size of peanuts. Oops, I said it again. But, yeah, well it’s true. I wanted to talk to him, but he needed to talk over his stuff. And so naturally, I just ended up insulting him and his latest.’ He let out a heavy, defeated sigh. ‘So, yeah, this is my life. So weird I can’t even get my head around it myself. My best mates all hate me, and here I am opening up to my worst enemy.’

‘Don’t call me that,’ sputtered Anjana.

‘Well it’s true, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t want it to be true,’ she told him. ‘Not anymore. We used to have such fun together. My mum loved you. She’s loves your mum. I’ve never understood what happened to us. Why it all fell apart.’

Right before her eyes, Ben’s entire face seemed to fold into an enormous frown, his eyes drooping heavily. The whites of his eyes became red, and then welled with tears, which he tried to blink away, rubbing them out before they became a flood. For a moment, he thought he would walk on, pretending that he had not heard her, or that it had not bothered him, but in the next instant, he found himself at a standstill, legs locked. 

‘What happened to you, Ben? Why did you shut me out?’

Silence.

‘I know life has been unkind to you. God, how many times have I seen you covered in bruises, your skin stained red and black? I mean, I get all that. You should’ve been dealt a better hand. But you were always strong through everything. You always coped with it. Why did it break you? Break us?’

Ben closed his eyes, scrunching his eyelids together tightly. If he could have moved on, he would have, but it was as if something had cemented his feet to the pavement: some invisible force, beyond his control. 

‘If you’d told me what happened, I would’ve understood. I’m sure of it. We could’ve got through it. Together. We could’ve worked around it. Whatever it was. If you’d have talked about it, I would’ve understood. Things could’ve been different. I wouldn’t have judged you.’

‘I know you wouldn’t have,’ he stuttered finally, eyes still firmly shut, ‘Because you were my gift from God. That’s what I always told everyone. I was blessed to have you in my life. So of course, of course: I know you wouldn’t have judged me.’ 

At last, his eyes edged open. For a twinkling, he glanced at her, but soon his gaze had settled elsewhere. ‘We were on a journey together,’ he murmured painfully, ‘We were both searching, seeking. Weren’t we? I was blessed to have a faithful friend like you at my side to talk to about the important things. To all my other friends, I’m just the court jester, but I could be something more with you. I always admired your belief in God. I always wished I had faith like yours. I always wished I could believe like you. Be like you. With you, I could be more than everything else that defines me. You had that pure nameless faith. And I wanted it too. You made it alive.’ 

These words seemed to liberate him, life flooding back into his legs. With the back of his hand, he wiped his eyes dry, feeling stupid for blubbering like a baby. 

‘So of course I don’t blame you for what happened afterwards. After everything I did, you were entitled to treat me like that. I deserved your hatred. All that stuff you said to Satya on her first day. Yes, I deserve all those insults. Every one of them.’

Ben’s throat ached now, his mental anguish manifesting itself in physical symptoms, which agitated him.  

‘And yet I always wish it would stop,’ he cried aloud. ‘I wish I could tell you what happened. How it all started. But I can’t. And it rips me apart because we have this connection. Ha! Like now. We’re the worst enemies in the world, but here we are walking in the rain together, speaking from the bottom of our hearts as if there are no barriers between us. As if nothing happened. As if I didn’t treat you like shit.’

‘I’m as much to blame as you…’

‘Every day I ask myself why we became these cold, heartless foes when there’s this bond between us. You used to say exactly what I was thinking at exactly the same time, completely out of the blue. I used to think of you and suddenly you’d be there. I used to think of calling you and suddenly you’d call. I used to dream about you and then I’d find out everything in my dream was true.’

‘I still do,’ sighed Anjana.

‘Every day, I think of you. I think about how I treated you. It’s become this curse I carry with me everywhere. I can’t even describe my regrets. This pain. You have every right to hate me. To despise me. But there’s this connection. It’s beyond our control. I know you feel it too. There’s a reason for it. I don’t know what it is yet, but God’s carrying us somewhere. I don’t know where. This is all beyond me. But I can feel it. I feel it in my heart.’ 

He did not mean to, but his right hand began thumping his chest, his fingers outstretched. ‘I became a slacker,’ he said, ‘I gave up on the journey. You left me far behind. You grew in faith and I stagnated. You became this strong, passionate person. I became this weak loser. But we’re being carried somewhere. Yeah, I felt it when you came over at school and asked to walk home with me. Enemies that we are.’

‘We’re not enemies,’ breathed Anjana.

‘We are,’ he replied.

‘But we don’t have to be,’ she implored. ‘We could fix things. You could tell me what happened. We could go back there. Undo everything.’

‘If I could, I would,’ he said, as if to offer her a glimmer of hope. But he had not finished. ‘But I can’t,’ he added swiftly, crumbling.

In the olden days, Anjana would have parted with him at the end of this road: at the junction, under the sycamore tree. He would go right and she left unless he was feeling charitable enough to walk her to her door. For these cherished moments now, she decided, there would have to be a detour: onto the crescent, perhaps, or along his street and back again. Anything to prolong these moments.

‘You know I’m here for you, don’t you?’ she said, hurriedly.  

‘Between insults? Mocking me.’

‘I’m messed up, Ben. It’s true. I didn’t think I’d ever talk to you again. I thought we’d forever be at war. And yeah, you’re right. I’m still playing that game. At school, what can I do? I’ve built up this wall and I don’t know how to bring it down. So yeah, at school you’re officially a total loser. I’ve got too many allies in this camp. Bal, of course, but then she always hated you, even before your meltdown. Then there’s Satya. I blame myself of course, since I’m the one who set her on that path. She’s a great disciple; she has the Force. You can’t defeat Jedi Satya. Even I have to tell her to shut up.’

She laughed at the thought of it, but it was true: her friend was a source of constant irritation these days. ‘But then there’s Noor. She’s such a good influence on me. You know, just the other day she told me she wished things were like they used to be. She said she liked it before we were cows. I would’ve used a stronger term, but I agreed with her. Every time I insult you, it breaks my heart these days.’

‘You’re not alone.’

‘But we can fix it,’ she enthused, guiding him along the wrong street to draw out their conversation for as long as possible. ‘I know we can,’ she insisted. ‘We just have to try.’ She glimpsed at him sideways, grateful for this opportunity to free her thoughts. ‘I’ve dreamed of this moment for years now. To be able to finally ask you what happened. Why you pushed me away. I have a theory, of course. But then everyone has a theory. God, even Bal has a theory.’ 

‘Yeah, but her theory sucks,’ chided Ben.

‘Maybe mine does too, but it’s all I’ve got,’ she replied, delving inside for words she had rehearsed a hundred times before in hopeful expectation of an opportunity like this. 

‘It’s well known, isn’t it,’ she began at last as if she was still standing in front of the mirror, practising. ‘It’s well known,’ she stuttered on, her mind cast back in time, ‘that your dad makes Heinrich Himmler seem like a nice man? It’s well known, isn’t it, that Combat 18 was too liberal for him, too tolerant, too soft? It’s pretty much a fact, isn’t it, that your dad would’ve been convicted of more than violent affray if witnesses hadn’t been so terrified of coming forward. I think we’re all agreed he’s a nasty piece of work. 

‘But here’s the thing: Ben Johnson wasn’t much like his dad at all. He was gentle, reasonable, humble, kind. He made Gandhi look like a despot. None of these things, of course, necessarily threw him into conflict with his dad. Good and evil could coexist quite happily, particularly while his dad was inside. But there was just one problem, wasn’t there Ben? Those ethnic friends of yours. Or to be more precise: me. I was a problem, wasn’t I? Because, you know, maybe the whole school was onto something. You and me, I mean. You looked at me and you looked at your dad, didn’t you? 

‘You know, I always knew something happened to you. You keep alluding to it after all. I assume your dad roughed you up, taught you a lesson. You were off school long enough. But you know, I never worked it out until you sent your infamous letter. She let me read it, you know? In fact, we all did. We all had a seriously good laugh about it, at your expense. 

‘Good choice, Ben. You couldn’t have chosen a worse person to send it to, because she made sure absolutely everybody who was anybody had a good review. It was like the reader’s digest for idiotic letters. At first, I thought you must’ve written it as a joke. I thought it was the irony you were famed for. In fact, this is what I told everyone at first. I defended you, telling them it was a satire, a social commentary on the immaturity of teenage boys. I thought at first that you were poking fun at your mates. But then it dawned on me: we were meant to believe you were serious. 

‘You looked at me and you looked at your dad. And you asked yourself what you could do to get out of your mess. I know, you thought, I’ll write a letter to some random white girl: that’ll get me off the hook. So that’s what you did. You wrote a pointless, meaningless letter to some white girl you didn’t even like and suddenly you were free. You looked like an idiot, of course, but at least nobody could say you were in love with a brown girl. And I just had to take it. To watch as my world crumbled around me all over again. To watch as they dissected your life, as they pulled you to pieces. I just had to sit there and laugh along, and pretend I just didn’t care about you at all.’

She shuddered when these words emerged from her lips, for it was as if she was no longer in control of them. Out of the corner of her eye, she tried to spy his reaction, but his face revealed no feelings at all.

‘This is my theory, Ben. How did I do? You know, maybe it’s a crackpot theory. But the thing I never got about that letter when I read it was why you wrote all that stuff that made you look like an idiot. It didn’t make any sense to me. That’s when it dawned on me. You didn’t want her to like you, to respect you. You didn’t want to share your life with her. You just wanted to use her to get you off the hook. You just wanted everyone to think you fancied a white girl. No, you wanted your dad to know that. You knew he would hear, and he did, and you were saved, and you were free.’ Anjana glanced back at him. ‘Is it a crackpot theory, Ben?’ she asked him, ‘Because it’s all I’ve got.’

Listening to her, Ben just shrugged his shoulders, letting out a wisp of unconvincing laughter. ‘It sounds a bit farfetched, doesn’t it?’ he replied quietly. ‘I wish I could say I planned what happened, but I didn’t. I just made a terrible error of judgment. That’s all.’ He felt sorry when she blushed, her embarrassment driving her fingers into her hair. ‘But it was an amusing theory,’ he added instantly, ‘I enjoyed hearing it. I wish I’d thought of it myself. I could’ve won you back.’

‘Don’t Ben,’ she sighed.

‘Don’t make you laugh? Because we must hate each other still?’

‘Because it’s all I’ve got. It’s the only way I can explain what happened between us. We were the best of friends. Then you disappeared off the face of the earth, and when you finally came back I was nothing to you. You were so cruel to me. It broke my heart.’

Her companion glanced back at her as if to acknowledge her sentiments, but his face remained devoid of expression. ‘What would you say if I said I genuinely thought I was the person in the letter? That I genuinely thought that was all I was? Because that’s what I thought. I genuinely thought that was all I had. I really believed I was that tiny, insignificant person. I believed I was that child. That’s all I thought of myself. I thought I was worthless.’ He thought for a moment, recalling those awkward days. ‘And I thought she was too. I thought she was a loser like me. That’s what I thought, and so I thought we could be friends.’

‘But you were never any of those things. We could’ve been friends again, you know?’

There was the flood: not from the sky, as in her dream, but spilling violently from his eyes, knocking him sideways against a rounded privet hedge. He felt like a fool for crying in front of her, like a hungry child demanding dinner, but he could not bring his tears under control. ‘Even if that’s what I wanted,’ he wailed, ‘it could never happen.’

‘Why, because you think you’re worthless?’ 

‘Because it’s out of my hands.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I wish I was free like a bird. I’d fly away. But I’m not. Yes, everything you say about my dad is true. But it’s not only him. I feel like I’m stuck in a cage. Or a trap that springs closed on me whenever I try to get out. I used to dream of running away with you. But I feel like a hunted fox. I can’t move. I’m trapped. It’s not just my dad, my family.’ 

‘Is it me?’

‘It depends what you mean.’

‘The way I’ve been with you? God, I know what I’ve become. A real cow. How I treat you. The stuff I say. I just go on autopilot. I can’t help it. I don’t like what I’ve become. I never used to be like this. I never used to treat people like this. I used to be a nice person. Wasn’t I?

‘God, it tears me apart, Ben. You have such low self-esteem that you never noticed we thought you were great. And I never noticed either. And now all you can do is stand there in silence. I wish things were back how they used to be. Do you ever think we can get them back?’

‘Impossible,’ he sighed, shaking his head reluctantly. ‘I’ve changed a lot. I’m not gentle anymore. I don’t do kind. I’m not reasonable. To be honest, I feel like I’m losing it. I’m not sure if I’m all there anymore. This is all just like a dream to me. I’m not even sure if it’s real. I’m going to wake up in a minute, and you’ll no longer be here, and my heart will break all over again.’

‘And mine too,’ cooed Anjana meekly, ‘because this is real. This is the nightmare I’ve lived through since the day you disappeared. And now, here we are, at the end of our road. Another crossroads. You’ll go that way, I’ll go mine. Always living metaphors. Isn’t that typical?’

Ben glanced at the street sign, their meander ceasing, surprised to find himself there.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Anjana sadly, ‘I won’t ask you to walk me to my door. Maybe we are a lost cause. Maybe we’re beyond redemption. It seems like it.’

‘Yeah.’

‘But we could make peace.’

‘I’d like that.’

‘Then let’s make peace.’ She smiled at him, sort of. ‘And you need to make peace with Siddique too. Don’t fall out over a girl. Just say sorry, say you were wrong. Even if she’s as thick as pig poop.’

‘Maybe I will,’ said Ben. 

‘You must,’ she replied sweetly. ‘If even enemies like us can make peace…’

‘Yeah, I know. I’ll try.’ ‘Good,’ she said, and that was her goodbye. She went left and he went right. Suddenly she felt the urge to run. Suddenly he was on his saddle, winding his way home. Suddenly the rain felt as cold as ice. Suddenly they were wide awake.