Teach Me Dirty

Helen: But now I know.

Helen: It was her wasn’t it?

Helen: I feel so stupid.

Helen: You’ve broken my heart!!!!!

Helen: I thought I meant something. But I mean nothing. I’m just a joke to you, aren’t I? Just a stupid kid!

Helen: Why is she so much better than me??

Helen: I love you. I love you more than she does.

Helen: I’ll never bother you again.

Helen: It’s over for me.

I fired one back.

Where are you?

Helen: Why do you care?

Of course I care. Where are you? Are you still at Elizabeth’s?

Helen: No.

Where? At home?

Helen: No.

Jesus, Helen, where are you?

Helen: I’m thinking. Down by the river. I like it here. Enjoy your time with her.

My patience expired, faded to nothing behind a plume of rage and worry. I tried her number but she didn’t answer, then called through the pathetic list of Much Arlock taxi numbers, searching for someone to pick her up. The closest to her was forty-five minutes out, already engaged on a city run. That was way too long.

I checked out my reflection in the mirror, and I looked tired. I was way over the limit, far too drunk to risk driving.

Under any other circumstances I’d never have considered it.

Fucking hell.

My fingers were angry little blurs as I sent my final response.

Don’t fucking move. I mean it, Helen. Don’t you dare.

I splashed cold water over my face, swilled my mouth out with mouthwash and grabbed my car keys.

***

She was easy to spot in the headlights, a little dark huddle of sadness on the picnic bench. I pulled up and left the engine running, grabbing hold of her before she could protest.

She was crying. Hysterical. A flailing mass of teenage drama.

“What?” I said. “What is all this about?”

She got to her feet and her eyes were streaming. “You’re with someone else!” she cried. “You love someone else!”

“What?! What the…” My jaw hit the floor, dumbfounded by the absurdity. “Miss Monkton? You’re talking about Miss Monkton?!”

“Bed calling. Let’s get all cosy in bed and laugh about stupid Helen Palmer!”

“That’s absurd.”

“Is it?!”

“Of course it is!” I ran my hands through my hair, and caught my breath, reeling at the insanity, of this… this crazy drama, this abject teenage devastation, this irresponsibility I’d been dancing with. “I’m not with Miss Monkton. I’m not with anyone.”

“But she said…”

“I don’t care what she said. She gave me a lift home, Helen. She drove me home, as a friendly colleague, and dropped me at the door, and went to her own bed in her own house. She’s there now, as far as I know.”

“She did?” Helen’s lip was trembling, her face deathly pale. She looked like a ghost in the darkness, a frightened, lonely, sad little ghost.

“Yes. She did.” I sighed. “How the hell did you get here?”

“Walked.”

“Jesus Christ. It’s freezing.”

“I didn’t care. I don’t care.”

“You should care.”

“But I don’t!” She slumped against the bench, her arms wrapped around herself. “I don’t care about anything anymore. I’m done with caring.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Not anymore!”

“You should be in bed. At home.” I went to take her arm but she pulled away from me. “Come on, Helen, I’ll take you home.”

And then there were more tears, tears and wailing and blubbery words.

“I… I just… I’ve ruined everything! I’ve ruined it all… and I didn’t want to… I just… I loved it… everything… and now I’m empty… and sad… I’m so sad… I thought you liked me… I thought… I thought…”

“I’ll take you home.” I beckoned her to follow. “Come on.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to go. It’ll wake my parents up, and they’ll be angry, or worried.”

“Fine, then I’ll take you back to Elizabeth’s.”

She shook her head again. “Lizzie’s asleep. She has a communal door, I can’t get in.”

“Well, what then?” I rubbed my temples. “What are you planning on doing?”

Her lip went again. “I’ll just stay… stay here…”

“Like fuck you will.” She couldn’t move away quickly enough this time and my fingers closed around her wrist, pulling her along after me. I opened the passenger door, and put my hand on her head as I lowered her inside, and I even crawled in after her and fastened her seat belt.

She struggled but it was half-hearted. The tears, not so much.

“Please don’t take me home! They’ll be so upset with me!”

“Be quiet, Helen, just be quiet.” I slipped back in the driver’s seat, and closed the door. “I need to concentrate, I’m over the fucking limit. So please be quiet.”

She stared at me with big, sad eyes. “You shouldn’t have come for me…”

“Like I had a choice.”

“You did…”

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and she took the hint. The car went quiet.

“Where are you taking me?” she said finally, and her voice was calmer.

“Home,” I said, then turned to her before she could object. “My home.”

***

Helen

I didn’t speak. Didn’t say another single word. Buttoning up my beak and letting the world slip past the window.