The Things She Thinks About When She Thinks About Running.
(With apologies to Murakami)
In her mind it goes something like this:
She's in a community or school hall, there's ten of them all sat around in a circle on those awful squeaky folding chairs, a young man in the centre holds a clip board. The atmosphere is charged, no one makes eye contact, and every-one's finding the curtains or their fingers are the most interesting things in the world. He coughs politely.
"Emily, have you something you'd like to share with the group?"
Emily's mouth goes instantly dry, she stands, on shaking legs, chair scraping deafeningly loudly, she swallows, tries to clear her throat, she looks at the floor, and mumbles:
"Hi, Um, I'm Emily, and I'm addicted to running "
There's a ripple of warm applause...
As long as she can remember running has been part of her life. To her it's freedom; it's a drug (that she knows she's addicted to as sure as anything you can get in a club). It's where she can sort out her life, her problems; she can have conversations with herself, and orders her world. When people meet the Fitches, they naturally assumed she gets this from Rob, but it was in fact Jenna, her mother, back home in Perth as a teenager who was the running star, Emily suspects she inherited the "must run" gene from her. She also thinks it's about the only thing they have in common, but she understands it now, what her mother meant when she talked about running, and it connects them, they can never talk about it, but it connects them nevertheless, and both of them are silently grateful for it.
Emily runs, if you want to piss her off, call her a jogger, Naoms did once, and is careful not to, ever again, her arm still twinges at the memory of it. Not for Emily the aimless plodding around the park in jogging bottoms and a baseball cap pulled low in case some-one recognises you, Emily Runs. She has a 10k route mapped from their flat in Lewisham, there's also a longer one in case she's really got something to mull over. Back in Bristol a few years ago her long route got a serious amount of abuse when a certain Blonde re-entered her life. When the map was bought from the corner shop, and route plotted, Naoms was bit worried that she was biting off a bit more than she could chew:
"10 kilometres? You sure? Sound's a long way?"
"It'll take me less than 50 minutes Naoms, it's not like I haven't run before, y'know? How do you think I keep looking like this with all the Nutella you make me eat?"
"I make you eat? Right...While you're gone, I do what? Look for your secret brogues stash?"
"I'm sure you can amuse yourself..."
There are a couple of massive benefits to running, apart from the obvious health benefits, which in reality Emily couldn't actually give a shit about. Firstly: She gets to eat pretty much what she wants, she remembers a day back at Roundview, she'd gone out early before college, driven out of bed by the need to work out ...you know... Her, in her mind. By lunch she was practically passing out with hunger, into the canteen she'd spied Naoms, Freddie, and Cook all with chips heading out to the outside seats, she'd made a bee line for them, before Cook can protest, she'd nicked his chips, covered them in Ketchup, and had begun to eat. Not delicately with politely engaging conversation, but silently, mechanically. After a while she'd been dimly aware of three pairs of eyes regarding her with barely disguised astonishment, she'd looked up through her fringe, Freddie was paused, chips half way between mouth and plate, Cook slouched back, looking pissed off, firing up a fag, she'd risked a glance over to Naomi, a sort of grimaced look on her face...
"shit" She'd covered her mouth in a redundant effort at politeness with her hand, and tried to speak without covering them all in half chewed potato.
"I was hungry, sorry, I've been running..."
"Right" purred Naomi, warmly, like a Bond Villain.
"You want them back, Cook"
"S'alright, Emilio, you look like you need them more than me, strangely I'm not that hungry anymore..."
Secondly, it's the endorphins, the rush, the hit when the part of your brain catches on that you're running and goes "Oh, we're running? Best you have some of this, then..." and it's a little bit like coming. Tired legs are suddenly free, you think clearly and your breathing get easy, less ragged, and you could fly, best of all it's free...
It's early Sunday, Emily peeks out of the curtain; slightly drizzly. The flat is quiet; the only sound is Naoms breathing steadily in their bed. Emily bends to tie her shoes, pads over to the curled up girl, brushes a stray hair away, and kisses her ever so gently on the forehead. Naomi rolls over and half opens an eye.
"Running?"
"Yeah, see you later"
Naomi rolls away; Emily sighs, takes a deep breath, turns and opens the front door, closing it quietly behind her. She bounces down the two flights of stairs, and pushes open the main door, gasping slightly at the chill. She squints at the sky, zeros her G-Shock, and begins to run. Steadily at first warming gently, only after the first kilometre picking up the pace a bit.
"Why didn't you tell me you'd seen Cook, Ems?"
"No", thought Emily, "I'm not having that conversation this morning", the memory of that fight still too raw in her mind, "Think of something else"
Lyrics snatch into her brain, but she can never remember songs, and singing to herself is just a step too far along the road to looking like a weirdo runner... One of these days she's going to get herself a MP3 to take. Something else then...
"I've loved you since the first time I saw you"
Emily smiles at the memory of it, the moment when Naomi stepped up, the moment she really accepted them for what they were and who they were, the moment Emily realised that Naoms would fight, literally do anything to make sure they were together, that was what was important, not the petty arguments, or squabbles that they might have, the fact that since they were young teenagers they had know they were supposed to be together. Her mind drifts back to another time, another conversation;
"D'you think we'd have been OK if we'd have got together earlier?" Emily strokes Naomi's arm as they lie together, slowly coming down, drying sweat causing Naomi to shiver.
She pulls the duvet over both of them. "Nope, we'd have killed each other", she says matter of factly. "I didn't know who I was, let alone deal with...y'know, loving a girl, it was freaking me out mostly, hence keeping you at arm's length with the whole sarcasm thing, it was too weird in my head...being in love with you, at the same time scared shitless of it."
"Why did you kiss me then, that time, at that party..?" Emily leans over head propped up by her arm, she smiles mischievously.
"Erm, I seem to remember that was you, dunno, seemed like the right thing to do, I was pretty pissed though"
"Thanks, you needed to be pissed to kiss me?" Emily frowns.
"Emily." Naomi looks into Emily's eyes," I needed to be pissed just to talk to you; you...The idea of you, scared the crap out me"
Emily rounds a corner, to a long steady uphill avenue, widely spaced trees in between the large houses, she piles on the pace once again just because she can. She breathes a little heavier.
"Why didn't you tell me you'd seen Cook, Ems?"
It catches her by surprise, so much so that her pace falters; she shakes the image of a disappointed Naomi from her mind, and runs harder still, as if punishing herself. Something else, anything else.
"Come back with me to London" Naomi takes hold of Emily's hand, "come and live with me, y'know, like permanently"
"That's your plan?"
"Yep, cool huh?"
"What will I do?"
"Don't care, do anything you want. Ems I want us to be together, this long distance thing is killing us, you're miserable, and I'm miserable, c'mon, this is right"
"In your tiny flat"
"It'll be great, as long as you don't flash the postie" Naomi grins
She rounds the next corner, grateful for the slight downhill or so to the junction of the road that separates the short run to the long run, Short today she thinks. The rain starts to fall more steadily, Emily runs the zip of her jacket higher, the rain doesn't bother her, but she can do without the cold to be honest.
"Naomi, are you in?" Emily practically bounces in, massive smile on her face "I got it"
"Fantastic, when do you start? Naomi puts down her pen from the assignment she's writing, stands gathering a happy Emily in her arms, kissing her playfully on the nose, "we should go out, to celebrate"
"Naoms, we've got hardly any money left, let's just get a bottle, you know, stay in"
"Your mind ever come out the gutter Ems?"
Emily pushes her away, smiling nevertheless. "Today a flower shop, tomorrow, who knows..?"
"All those A levels and your excited about working in a flower shop"
"It's money, OK, we need it"
"I know, I'm happy that you're happy"
At the junction Emily takes a wide line, avoiding the bin she knows is there just out of sight, and treads right onto a discarded bag of dog shit thrown causally that's missed its target. Her leg goes out from under her, and she falls unceremoniously on her arse.
"Fuck, shit" she hobbles upright, gingerly places weight on her ankle
"Ahhhh, bastard" she hops over to the bench on the corner, the pain starts to bite, and she fights away the tears of both frustration and pain, finally as if a lock as been undone, that memory forces its self into her mind, as if determined to ambush her
"Why didn't you tell me you'd seen Cook, Ems?"
"I forgot, we were trying to sort US out remember?"
Naomi regards her for a minute
"I forgot, alright, sorry"
"You see that many of our friends in Prison, it just slipped your mind? What did you talk about?"
"Nothing..."
Naomi just looks says nothing.
"Nothing"
"Why do I get the impression you're hiding something Ems, why wasn't Cook there? Emily, do you know something about it?"
"NO, what are you accusing me of?"
"I'm not accusing you of anything Ems, I'm just wondering why you're the last one to see Cook, you don't tell any of us about it, and all of a sudden Cook vanishes, they related?"
"NO, why would they be?"
"Fuck" thinks Emily, "what a fucking mess". She wipes her eyes, tests her ankle, a sharp pain drives her to sit again "Fuck's sake"
At last she can hobble, she re-traces her steps, finally, gratefully pushes the door of their flat.
"Fucking hell, where have you been? I've been going mad" Naomi is up and Emily sees that she's wide eyed with panic and has clearly been crying, she's holding her phone
"I fell, I'm fine" Emily perches on the end of their bed, "You don't need to panic"
"No, it's not you" Naomi takes in a huge ragged breath "Your sister's been on the phone, "We need to get to Bristol now"
"Why" Emily struggles with her trainer, she looks again at Naomi, now getting worried herself, "What's going on?"
Naomi takes in another deep breath "Katie...Something about Cook...Effy...She's killed herself..."
"What?" She can't quite believe what she's hearing, "What do you mean Cook?, Has he...?"
Naomi is on the verge of more tears, she's battling to control herself, "No, there's a note or something from Effy, about Cook not wanting to know her or something and her life being worthless, why she killed herself, Katie was all a bit messed up I'm not sure what's going on" Naomi can't hold back, crumples, and begins to cry again "Effy..."
Emily looks at the girl she loves more than anything in the world, she begins to cry. Knows without uncertainty that she's fucked it up. Monstrously.