This is what you call an opportune moment. I can use Tim to cool the relationship with James, which needs to end anyway. I can say that Tim begged me not to leave him. I can say that the last few nights were a big mistake.
‘Tim is not important,’ I say, sighing.
James nods calmly.
‘Is henot importantor is he still your boyfriend?’
‘He’s not my boyfriend. Jesus Christ! I already told him that we should stop seeing each other,’ I say, and scowl at myself for being so blunt. ‘I was just joking around with my mate on the phone.’
And now my anger and frustration are rising, fast. And when James doesn’t acknowledge my explanation, I feel it rise further.
‘Were you,’ he says finally, ‘just joking around with a friend?’
‘Yes, I was.’
‘I don’t know if I believe you,’ he says. ‘You could easily tell me that. I’d never know.’
‘What do you want? A written statement of intent? Because my intent is to leave here in five weeks.’
He looks shocked. He puts his hands up to his head and rubs his face. Then he shakes his head.
‘Right, so it doesn’t matter either way? Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Stop hauling me over the fucking coals. It’s not like this is going to go anywhere anyway. You know it, and I know it.’
‘Why are you being like this?’
‘Like what? This is me. Here I am. It’s BIRDY. Want your money back, James?’
He looks at me, and his shock is turning to defeat. His eyes narrow and he shakes his head. ‘Something’s off here.’
‘I think that was your pigeon.’
He turns to look out across the loch, shaking his head again. My heart is thumping and I can feel the surge of heat up my neck, all the way to my ears. And then, as he takes a step backwards from me, my instinct is to reach out and pull him in. But I can’t. I have to let him go. It should never, ever have gone this far.
‘James,’ I say, desperate to – I don’t know what. ‘James,’ I say again, ‘I …’ But my voice trails off into silence, and there is nothing but the wind and the water lapping against the shore as he walks away. I want to grab him by the shoulders, look into his eyes and explain it all, but it’s too difficult. How do I explain anything?
Then I feel irritated.
Irritated that he’s being sensitive, and irritated he’s upset. Irritated by having to feel bad about something. Annoyed, actually, that I’ve been caught and am losing control of this situation. Annoyed at Roxy. Annoyed at Bill. Annoyed at James. Annoyed at stupid me.
‘There’s a whole world out there you know,’ I say, on a true Birdy-shaped roll, ‘not that you’ve ever seen it. You’ve never been outside Scotland, for fuck’s sake.’
‘Yes,’ he says, and offers up a small smile. ‘You’re right.’
And then he looks down at my muddy, hopelessly trashed sneakers and a flash of something painfully sweet crosses his face. In all of this, he cares about my feet.
And then he’s gone. He disappears up the path, sure-footed in his sturdy boots, at home on the earth below him.
As he leaves, I’m almost pleasantly angry. Like a huge weight has been lifted. It’s for the best, I think. I can’t actually fall in love with the guy. There are so many roadblocks, it’s better if everyone simply gets on with things.
Yes. The best way forward is to put my head down, get to the end of my time here and get the hell out. No more stupid mistakes. No more surprises. Just work hard, play the game and get out of here.
32.
James cancelled our last two cooking lessons, no surprise. And he’s taken this morning off and gone with his mum to see Mr MacDonald again. Irene’s been horribly quiet with me too, and I wonder if James has told her what happened between us. She gave me the morning off, to work on the Wine Society event, she said.
I feel like everything at Loch Dorn is hanging in the balance and I wish they would talk to me about it.
