Beautiful World, Where Are You(33)

Quietly, she said: I believe you.

And honestly, I’ve done worse than that. Worst thing I’ve ever done, if you want to hear—

He broke off, and she nodded for him to continue. He looked away into the room as he spoke, grimacing vaguely, as if staring into a light.

Worst thing I’ve ever done, I got a girl pregnant when I was in school. She was in Junior Cert and I was in fifth year. Have you ever heard anything worse than that? Her mam had to take her over to England. I think they got the boat over. She was like fourteen or whatever, a little child basically. We weren’t even supposed to be having

sex, I talked her into it. I mean, I told her it would be fine. There, anyway, that’s the worst thing.

Did she want to do it, or did you make her do it?

She said she wanted to, but she was afraid of getting pregnant. And I told her it wouldn’t happen. I don’t think I really pressured her into it beyond that, I just said not to worry about it. But maybe that was kind of pressurising in a way. You don’t think about this stuff when you’re fifteen, or anyway I didn’t. I would never do that now – I mean, I would never try to talk someone into it if they weren’t interested, I just wouldn’t even be bothered. You can believe me or not, I don’t blame you if you don’t.

But when I remember myself saying those words to her I feel really out of my body. I start getting these weird heartbeats and everything. And I start thinking about really evil people, serial killers or whatever, and I feel like maybe that’s me, maybe I’m one of these psychopaths you hear about. Because I did say it, I did tell her not to worry, and I was older than she was, so she probably thought I knew what I was talking about. I just didn’t think it would actually happen. And you know, I didn’t even really have a conscience about it at the time. Only later, after I finished school, I started thinking about how evil it was, what I did to her. And feeling kind of scared and everything.

Do you know what she’s doing now? said Alice.

Yeah, I still know her. She’s not living in town anymore, she works in Swinford. But I would see her around the odd time when she’s home.

Would she say hello to you if she saw you?

Oh yeah, he said. We’re not like, not speaking to each other or anything. I just feel awful when I see her because it reminds me of what I did.

Did you ever say sorry?

At the time, maybe. But I never got back in touch with her later when I started feeling really bad about it. I didn’t want to drag it all back up and get her upset for no reason. I don’t know what she thinks. Maybe she just moved on and it’s not on her mind that much. I hope so. But you can judge me if you want, I’m not defending myself.

He was turned to her, his head resting on the pillow, his eyes bright, almost glittering in the white light from the window behind her. She sat upright looking down at him, her face drawn.

Well, I can’t judge you, she said. When I think about the worst things I’ve ever done, I feel the same way you’re describing. Panicky and sick and that kind of thing. I bullied a girl I was in school with, really cruelly. For no reason, other than I suppose to torture her. Because other people were doing it. But then they would say they were doing it because I was. When I remember it now, I mostly just feel scared. I don’t know why I would want to cause another person pain like that. I really want to believe I would never do that kind of thing again, for any reason. But I did do it, once, and I have to live with it for the rest of my life.

He watched her intently and said nothing.

I can’t make it better, what you did, she said. And you can’t make it better for me either.

So maybe we’re both bad people.

If I’m only as bad as you I don’t mind that much. Or even if we’re both terrible, it’s still better than being terrible on my own.

She said she understood that feeling. He wiped his nose with his fingers and swallowed, looking away from her, at the ceiling.

I want to take back a horrible comment I made, he said.

Don’t worry. I was horrible as well. What I said about those women degrading themselves for money, that was a stupid thing to say. I don’t even think that, really. It doesn’t matter, we were both annoyed.

Looking down at his fingernails he said: It’s amazing how much you do annoy me.

She laughed. It’s not amazing, she said. I have that effect on lots of people.

I’ll tell you what it is, you do act very stuck-up at times. But I know other people who can be like that as well, and I wouldn’t let it get to me the way it does with you. To be really honest, I actually think it’s more the fact that I like you. And then when you act badly it drives me up the wall.

She nodded, silent. For a minute, two minutes, three, they sat on the bed without speaking. Finally he touched her knee in a friendly way and said he was going to have a shower. After he had left the room she sat there unmoving. In the bathroom he switched the shower on and stood looking in the mirror while the water warmed. Their conversation seemed to have had some effect on them both, but it was impossible to decipher the nature of the effect, its meaning, how it felt to them at that moment, whether it was something shared between them or something about which they felt

differently. Perhaps they didn’t know themselves, and these were questions without fixed answers, and the work of making meaning was still going on.

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