The way he said ‘taken me out’ as opposed to ‘us’ going for a drink, I understood the connotations behind the sentiment. And I found it strange to think that someone would be interested in this version of me, this version that I had no comprehension of. I had lost my self-actualisation. I no longer had any understanding of who I was or what I projected into the world. Sometimes, I had an overwhelming desire to get back to my past. I’d imagine myself opening a door and walking into my life from ten years ago and just picking up from where things were, when everything was so easy and simple. Even though I didn’t know it at the time. Of course, I would have returned to those blissful years with hindsight and steered my life away from the danger and sadness.
Will was looking at me, maybe waiting for a response. But what should I say: ‘No thanks, I’m socially inept with OCD compulsions that stem from a trauma I’ll never get over, so I’m kind of staying away from the dating scene, for, oh, say… forever.’
I smiled weakly and picked some more at my salad.
‘So, tell me what your kids have been learning from you today?’ I just couldn’t get into a conversation about having a drink alone with this man. His perception of me was based purely on what he could see. Once he lifted the veil, I was sure I would be nothing more than a disappointment.
Will smiled knowingly as I bypassed his reference to a drink. ‘Oh, not a lot, I’m sure. They all seem to drift off – no one seems to have an attention span any more. Everyone has their head in their phones.’
I thought about my own obsession with Instagram and wondered how many hours I had lost to my phone recently. Even thinking about it made me want to take my phone out and check in with Mrs Clean.
‘I’m sure most of them are here because they have nothing better to be doing. There are a few who are totally into it though. But they’re the rare ones.’
‘So were you a boffin at school then? Always concentrating and handing in your assignments on time?’
‘Well, mostly.’ Will looked sheepish. ‘I knew how to have a good time as well though. That’s what the noughties were for.’
I cast my memory back to those carefree days, which for me didn’t last long enough. I was bogged down with life’s worries way too early when I should have been off doing what my house mates were doing now: partying until the early hours, with no care or worry. Maybe this was why I unconsciously chose to live with girls over a decade younger than me; maybe I was reminding myself what my life could have been like if I had made a different choice.
‘So what do you like to get up to outside of college, Regi?’ I thought about the way Will let my name roll off his tongue. I had always enjoyed listening to people when they inserted my name into the sentence.
‘I, er, I don’t hang out with my house mates. They just tolerate me.’ I gave a small, hollow laugh.
‘I’m sure you have something to offer. Wisdom? The moral high ground? Been there, got the T-shirt?’
I shook my head. ‘I wouldn’t know how to offer any of those things.’
‘Oh, come on now, you’re a woman of the world. I reckon you’ve seen a few things, done a few things.’
I froze at his words. The memories of the past would never fade. I had done plenty of things. So many of them I was not proud of.
‘Have you put your name down for the exhibition?’ Will was looking at the sky again. ‘I mean, I’ve not seen your work, but I guess it’s good enough for you to get on this course, so you should consider it. It will help with your grade at the end.’
‘Exhibition?’ I asked. I had come here with no real intentions of doing any extracurricular activities. This was a short course to get me through into the first year. I hadn’t thought about doing any more than I actually had to do.
‘The art exhibition. Anyone from an introductory course or the first year of a degree course can exhibit. It’s not happening until mid-July, so you have a couple of months to prepare for it. I thought that might be your sort of thing.’
I really wished I knew what my sort of thing was. Right now, I felt as though it was Mrs Clean. But I didn’t talk about that. She was my secret passion.
‘I bet you were quite the little joiner in your day?’ Will continued.
I shrugged. ‘Maybe, a long time ago,’ I said wistfully, remembering all the groups and clubs I was a member of. Then instantly I regretted my tone as Will looked at me with a wonder in his eye.
‘So, you gonna sign up for it?’
‘I guess,’ I said quickly.
Will looked at his watch and wrinkled his nose.
‘That’s me then. No rest for the wicked.’ Will stood up and brushed his trousers down. I eyed him subtly from the corner of my eye.
‘Hey, let me know if you ever want that drink, you know.’ Will threw a backpack over his shoulder and looked down. I looked up and squinted.
‘Thanks. I will.’
‘You will go for a drink or will let me know?’ Will said tentatively.
I let out a small laugh. I couldn’t fault him for trying.
‘I’ll let you know,’ I said. Will lifted his hand to wave.
‘Okay, Regina, I’ll see ya.’
I felt sorry for Will then, the way he pronounced the name Regina with such veracity and passion. It was a wonderful name and had it been the name I had been blessed with at birth, I would have felt a connection to it. But it wasn’t my real name. Like so many other things about me, it was a lie.
15
Then
I was pregnant again.
