the guard now, so I could go to jail too. What had he done with the woman? I know we were broke, but if he was going to kidnap someone, shouldn’t he have chosen someone rich? He wasn’t that desperate, surely. And where were the ransom demands? The IRA had kidnapped a man but everyone knew it was the IRA, and theykidnapped a rich guy, a foreign industrialist. My father was not a stupid man. That led me to the idea that maybe Annie Doyle had been in trouble with the IRA or some criminal gang, and Dad had given her the money to move away abroad with a new identity. Dad was helping a young woman in trouble. Wasn’t that more likely? But if that was the case, why were the police not involved? Maybe the guards were not being told because the case was so sensitive that it had to be entrusted to a judge. I tried to believe that version of events because, as unlikely as it seemed, the alternatives were too dreadful to contemplate.
I did my best to avoid spending time with Helen in the following weeks, but she phoned regularly, ostensibly to check that I hadn’t told anyone about the sex.
‘I don’t want them to think that I’m a slut.’
I didn’t tell her that the boys in my class already called her a slut, even before we’d had sexual intercourse.
She continued, ‘It’s just something I needed to get out of the way, you know? To see what all the fuss was about.’
I could feel her disappointment. I guessed if she had wanted to offload her virginity, I would probably not have been her first choice. As hurtful as this dawning realization was, I wondered if other boys had rejected her before she chose me. And then I wondered how likely it was that a boy in my class would have refused sex from any girl. So she did choose me. Poor Helen.
‘Sorry,’ I said, when we first talked on the phone after that night.
‘God, no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have … it was just … let’s never mention it again.’
‘Sure.’
There was a pause and then I had to ask because I needed to know. ‘So are you my girlfriend or anything like that?’
‘Do you want me to be?’ She was slightly incredulous. How the hell was I to answer that?
‘Well, I suppose …’
‘Great, that’s great.’ Her voice brightened. I wasn’t sure what to say.
‘… Are you still there?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s OK then? To call you my boyfriend? And we don’t have to … you know …?’
‘What? Ever?’
‘Well, maybe … sometime, but not soon … OK?’
‘OK … well, goodnight.’
‘See you tomorrow?’
‘Yes, probably.’
‘Goodnight.’
I should have been celebrating the fact that I had a girlfriend, even if it was just Helen, but I was afraid to have a confidante. If I voiced my fears, that would legitimize them and make them real. Helen got upset and clingy. She was paranoid and claimed that I had obviously just been using her for sex. She swore that if I told anybody we’d done it, she’d tell them what a small penis I had, and that even if it was huge, the flab of my belly would have hidden it anyway. I had really struck gold with my first girlfriend.
Helen visited Avalon, often uninvited. ‘Jesus! Look at the fucking size of your house!’ she said the first time she came over. I shushed her, asking her to be polite in front of my parents. She just about curbed her language, but I could tell that she didn’t really care what people thought of her. I knew that Mum and Dad were unimpressed by her. Mum was cold and stiff in her presence, made awkward polite conversation and then left the room. Dad caught her siphoning vodka from a bottle in the drinks cabinet into a small lemonadebottle one time. I had taken the blame and said it was my idea. Normally he would have been incandescent at something like that, but he just shuffled away, muttering. I’m sure he thought Helen was a bratty teenager, but maybe he was relieved that I had a girlfriend. As far as I knew, he didn’t tell my mother about the vodka. Helen
I did my best to avoid spending time with Helen in the following weeks, but she phoned regularly, ostensibly to check that I hadn’t told anyone about the sex.
‘I don’t want them to think that I’m a slut.’
I didn’t tell her that the boys in my class already called her a slut, even before we’d had sexual intercourse.
She continued, ‘It’s just something I needed to get out of the way, you know? To see what all the fuss was about.’
I could feel her disappointment. I guessed if she had wanted to offload her virginity, I would probably not have been her first choice. As hurtful as this dawning realization was, I wondered if other boys had rejected her before she chose me. And then I wondered how likely it was that a boy in my class would have refused sex from any girl. So she did choose me. Poor Helen.
‘Sorry,’ I said, when we first talked on the phone after that night.
‘God, no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have … it was just … let’s never mention it again.’
‘Sure.’
There was a pause and then I had to ask because I needed to know. ‘So are you my girlfriend or anything like that?’
‘Do you want me to be?’ She was slightly incredulous. How the hell was I to answer that?
‘Well, I suppose …’
‘Great, that’s great.’ Her voice brightened. I wasn’t sure what to say.
‘… Are you still there?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s OK then? To call you my boyfriend? And we don’t have to … you know …?’
‘What? Ever?’
‘Well, maybe … sometime, but not soon … OK?’
‘OK … well, goodnight.’
‘See you tomorrow?’
‘Yes, probably.’
‘Goodnight.’
I should have been celebrating the fact that I had a girlfriend, even if it was just Helen, but I was afraid to have a confidante. If I voiced my fears, that would legitimize them and make them real. Helen got upset and clingy. She was paranoid and claimed that I had obviously just been using her for sex. She swore that if I told anybody we’d done it, she’d tell them what a small penis I had, and that even if it was huge, the flab of my belly would have hidden it anyway. I had really struck gold with my first girlfriend.
Helen visited Avalon, often uninvited. ‘Jesus! Look at the fucking size of your house!’ she said the first time she came over. I shushed her, asking her to be polite in front of my parents. She just about curbed her language, but I could tell that she didn’t really care what people thought of her. I knew that Mum and Dad were unimpressed by her. Mum was cold and stiff in her presence, made awkward polite conversation and then left the room. Dad caught her siphoning vodka from a bottle in the drinks cabinet into a small lemonadebottle one time. I had taken the blame and said it was my idea. Normally he would have been incandescent at something like that, but he just shuffled away, muttering. I’m sure he thought Helen was a bratty teenager, but maybe he was relieved that I had a girlfriend. As far as I knew, he didn’t tell my mother about the vodka. Helen
Similar Books
