Helen Douglas - After Eden

‘I’ve been led to understand that a greasy fry-up is the perfect hangover cure,’ he said.

‘That’s not funny, Travis,’ said Miranda. ‘You know she doesn’t drink.’

Travis winked at me, as if to suggest that he didn’t believe that for a second, but was willing to keep it just between the two of us.

He stubbed out his cigarette on the doorstep. ‘I was merely offering you a fried breakfast. Miranda’s cooked enough for a family of ten.’

I shook my head. ‘I’m sure it will involve too many slaughtered pigs for my taste.’

‘Why don’t you make an exception?’ he said. ‘You can’t deny that this smells good.’

‘I don’t want to feast on the misery of another being.’

‘You don’t know how to enjoy yourself,’ said Travis. ‘That’s your problem.’

I grabbed a cereal bowl and a box of muesli and plonked myself down at the table.

‘So tell us all about it,’ said Miranda. ‘Was it wonderful?’

‘It was a lovely evening,’ I said as I splashed milk into the bowl.

‘Did you take lots of photos?’

‘I didn’t take my phone, but Megan’s mum took some before we left her place and Connor took loads. I’ll get copies.’

Miranda served up two steaming plates of bacon, eggs, sausage, mushroom and fried bread. The smell of hot grease made me feel queasy.

‘Did your boyfriend leave last night?’ asked Travis. ‘He was due to leave after the ball, wasn’t he?’

‘Yes, he left,’ I said. ‘But he isn’t – wasn’t – my boyfriend.’

Miranda and Travis smiled at each other over the table.

‘You said you were in love with him.’ Travis dipped the end of a sausage into the runny yolk of his egg.

I groaned to myself. It was one thing to confess to being in love when it was dark and I was still a little drunk. It was quite another to talk about it now in front of Miranda and Travis. Especially when I was doing everything I could to not think about him.

‘Yes, I did. But that didn’t make him my boyfriend. We were just friends.’

Travis looked at me. I had the vague recollection of telling him that I had no plans to stay in touch with Ryan. That must have sounded weird.

‘We can keep in touch via email,’ I said. ‘But I doubt we will. You know what they say: out of sight, out of mind.’

Miranda laughed. ‘You have no heart.’

‘What are your plans today, Eden?’ asked Travis.

‘I’ll probably meet my friends at the beach. It looks like a hot one.’

‘There’s a storm coming in later,’ he said. ‘Late afternoon according to the forecast.’

‘We’ll probably spend a couple of hours at the beach and if it gets cold we’ll go to the arcade or somewhere like that.’

‘Who’s going to be there?’ he asked.

‘Why do you care?’

Miranda glared at me. ‘Don’t be rude.’

‘Just making conversation,’ said Travis.

‘Connor and Megan and probably Amy and Matt.’

‘Do you want a lift into Perran?’ asked Travis. ‘I need to pop home this morning.’

‘No thanks. I probably won’t go in until later.’ I pretended to be interested in Miranda’s fashion magazine and hoped they’d just leave me alone.

With some trepidation, I dialled Connor’s mobile. I knew he would still be cross with me, but Ryan was right. We’d been friends for too long for him to hate me for ever. It went straight to voicemail. He was probably still sleeping. While I’d gone to the farmhouse with Ryan, they had probably partied into the early hours. I would have to wait a couple of hours before I got to talk to anybody.

‘Hey, Connor, it’s me,’ I said to his mailbox. ‘Call me when you wake up. Please.’

I threw the phone on my bed and looked around my room. Miranda hadn’t picked up the Sunday papers yet so there was no crossword to do. But I could play Scrabble against the computer or do a jigsaw or read a book.

I went down to the living room and chose a jigsaw from the games box. I cleared the coffee table and began to sort through the box looking for corner pieces and edges. I heard Travis slam the front door and then the deep growl of his car engine rumbling to life. In the kitchen I could hear the crashing of plates as Miranda washed up the breakfast dishes.

At ten o’clock Miranda popped her head round the door to tell me she was going to Marks & Spencer.

‘Do you want to come along?’ she asked. ‘We could get elevenses.’

I shook my head. ‘I’ll just stay here. I’ll go to the beach later.’

Miranda shuffled around with her jacket and keys in the hall and then I heard the door slam.

Silence.

Our house in Penpol Cove was only a half mile from the sea, but it was just far enough inland not to be plagued with the shriek of seagulls. The only cars that ever drove past our house were our neighbours on their way to work on weekday mornings and on their way home on weekday afternoons. I hadn’t realised how quiet the days could be in Penpol Cove. Outside, just the hum of a distant lawnmower. Inside, just the quiet, rhythmic ticking of the clock.

I tried Connor again. Straight to voicemail. Surely he was awake by now. I left another message asking him to call.

I looked back at my half-completed jigsaw and with a sweep of my arm, flung the pieces to the floor. Why the hell was I doing a jigsaw?

Until Ryan came along, my life had been timid, like a mouse scurrying amid the long grass. I’d hidden safely in the quiet routines of school and home, filling the empty hours with jigsaws and chess and crossword puzzles. My dreams had been small – studying A levels at the local college, learning to drive – and my expectations low. Falling in love had changed everything. The ground had been torn up from under my feet and I felt like I had been grabbed from the sanctuary of a summer lawn and hurled into the jungle. My old life seemed like a whisper in the face of a roar.

I couldn’t live my old life any more. I picked up the pieces and shoved them back in the box.

I called Connor’s house phone. Mrs Penrose picked up.

‘Hello, Eden, did you have a lovely time at the ball?’ She didn’t give me a chance to answer. ‘What time did you get home? Connor rolled in around three in the morning.’

‘I was home just after midnight.’

‘Very sensible. I’m just taking the phone up to him now. Connor?’ I heard her knock on his door. ‘It’s Eden.’

I heard Connor grunt something at his mother. ‘What?’

‘Hey, Connor. I tried you on your mobile but I guess the battery’s dead.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Look, I’m sorry about last night. I don’t know why I behaved that way.’

‘Whatever.’

‘So, what’s the plan? Are we going to the beach?’

‘I dunno.’

‘Shall I come to yours? We can decide when I get there.’

Connor said nothing for a few seconds. I could hear him breathing down the phone.

‘Connor?’

‘Look, Eden. I’m busy today. I’ll call you later in the week, OK?’

‘Connor,’ I began, but he’d already hung up.

So he hadn’t forgiven me yet. I knew he’d be mad with me, but I’d expected him to give me the chance to explain. I called Megan.

‘Hi, Eden,’ she said wearily.

‘Did I wake you up?’

‘No, I’ve been awake for a while.’

I lay back on the living room carpet. ‘Did you have a good time last night?’

‘Brilliant. The best night of my life.’

I shut my eyes. At least Megan wasn’t holding a grudge. ‘I’m so glad. Look, I’m sorry about my meltdown last night.’

‘You were really strange,’ said Megan.

‘Too much vodka combined with a mixture of excitement and sadness,’ I said. ‘It’s well known to cause bizarre behaviour in susceptible individuals.’