Honesty

One moment we were all chuckling about something. Carrella made a jibe at Lewis, and he responded good-naturedly with one of his own.

I had chimed in with my own comment, but it was lost amongst the laughter.

Suddenly I felt that panicky claustrophobia pressing in on me again, wrenching at my gut. Everyone was still laughing, but I could no longer join in.

I tried to reign myself in: to stop being ridiculous, but it didn't work.

I excused myself - once again, unheard - and found a bathroom to lock myself in.

Everything about me was pathetic and painfully clear, and the knowledge taunted me as I slipped to the floor, shaking and crying.

Get a grip, I wordlessly urged myself, digging my nails into the flesh of my palms, what's your problem?

I forced my breathing to slow, and added a few sequins to the imaginary dress, forcing myself to act calm until the feeling became real.



It was clear to see I hadn't been missed when I returned. My seat was newly occupied, and everyone was gossiping about Harry and Judith, and what an awful couple they made.

I reclaimed my drink and settled myself on the floor.

Later, I muttered a hushed goodbye to the group of my friends, that strange sense of alienation still coursing through my veins.

Paul caught me just as I was letting myself out.

"I'll walk with you, to the shop," he said.

'Oh, that's real love,' I realised I should have said later, playfully, 'walk with me as far as the next cigarette.'

He'd have laughed, ruffled my hair or maybe shoved me a little, gently. Maybe the outcome would have been different.

But maybe not.

It doesn't matter, because what I did was give him that small wan smile that seemed all I was capable of on these occasions, and mumbled a thanks.

As we strolled down the road, Paul slipped his arm around me once again, his hand finding one of mine and clasping it.

The nearest shop was not even five minutes away, but Paul walked with me much longer than that. Maybe he realised that I still wasn't feeling completely human; that I might do something ridiculous like walk out in front of a bus, just because I couldn't remember why I shouldn't.

We didn't separate from each other until he pulled me into a hug so gentle that I knew letting go would hurt.

It lasted a long time, pushing almost ten minutes.

I pulled away first, and we gave each other the same smile - a sad one, tugged at by tears.

There was a lot left unsaid and undone, but I turned away regardless, continued the trudge home, solitary.