Men were different. People said that and it was true. And you could never be true friends, not for everything. Everything meant everything. Mo was good but there were things he didnt see. That was strange, how he didnt. Men didnt, they didnt see things. It was something to remember.
Even how he didnt see one of his workmates who was looking at Helen. She caught the guy doing it. And he was happy she had because he was making it known. This older man, a little smile on his face, wondering what his own chances were. If you want a man here I am. That was him. He thought she was ‘easy’. English woman white woman, the usual, but so offensive, so very offensive. The oglers, Muslim men any men, they dont even know they are doing it, like in the casino, you cannot hide in the casino, not if you are a dealer; you are there at the table and if they look they look, if they want to look, they just look, and you cant do anything. What did they think she was a naïve wee girl? Ha ha to that.
On holiday to Spain when Sophie was two years old, her and her ex that last time together, girls sunbathing topless at the hotel pool, just stretching out. Mainly English or German or from Holland, not Scottish. Helen and her ex were friendly with one couple like from Reading in England, at the poolside and chatting together, and her boobs my God, the other girl being topless like that, it was funny, and trying not to see them. And her ex: I didnt even notice them! That was him, liar, I didnt notice them it was just so natural, going on and on about how it was so good and so natural to see women like that, just relaxing how nature intended and not worrying about men being there because it is all so so natural if people only relaxed, why dont people relax? liar.
The usual, criticism. Why did she have to be different? Why did she have to cover up? But she didnt cover up. He didnt understand. He didnt know to understand. What did it matter about boobs? He didnt know about anything. It was only him showing off. It was men wanted it. The women all do what they are told, and their bodies, look, look at them. There is my girlfriend there and her tits, look, she doesnt care, she is just so relaxed about her body, and me too, if she is there and guys look at her, what do I care because she is mine and nobody else’s; lay a finger on her and you are dead. And uninhibited too, that is her in bed, and I just stick it in and she will do anything if I want her to she will do it. For me only, if I tell her. I dont care if you look because it is me, she does it for me, it is just me; me me me, the men all smiling together oh so mature, these men who really are boys, little boys and all their egos, the women belong to them, all naked and helpless.
It made her shudder, and angry too.
But it was how they acted, wanting their women to be naked. Because that is them helpless. What can they do? nothing, they are helpless, they are naked, just there and nothing, the men all smiling, oh it is the women, they are just stupid, and the men talking about something else, football, because they arent naked and showing their little things in front of everybody, oh no, they are too scared. Helen could laugh at that. Women would laugh. They would. And the men would hate that, they would lose their temper, being laughed at, and women would laugh at them. Helen would, she just would snigger. It was something to snigger about. Men. What else, nothing.
She could get so angry. She wished she didnt; if she could stop it, she couldnt. It welled inside her and would explode. Did women explode: women didnt explode. If one touched her, and they did, touching her, imagine touching her, cheek of them, she would kill them if she had a knife, touching her, who did they think, who they were, who were they, and rapes, just rapes, my God, and just little girls, that was men. And abusers. It was ones her age. Men who were boys. But if it was men that were adults. She could hate them all.
And if they were looking, if they really were looking and it was you in front of them and her ex there seeing. What would he do? If he could cope with that, he couldnt. If it was her ex, if he saw Helen and she was naked in front of other men and all were looking at her, they all were just seeing her there, just lying, and she was naked. What would he do?
Oh my God. It was just so funny.
But not stretching. If you stretched. The girl on holiday never stretched and her shoulders tightly together — Brenda, she could not relax. That was a plain name, Brenda, she didnt think of a Brenda. Did she ever relax? stretching. Helen could stretch. She could. Who else could? Not everybody. She didnt think so. If women spoke together she didnt hear one saying it, stretching. Helen could smile about that. Oh I stretched in front of him. Who else would say it?
Stretching means relaxed, and your whole body. Lying flat on top of the bed, naked, and stretching. It could be done and she had done it and like a man there and watching, she had closed her eyes. She could close her eyes. He was there and she didnt hardly know him. Oh she did. But she didnt. Yet she had done it, and he was there, she had closed her eyes, and was stretching out her body, oh my God people take chances. But she hadnt. She knew enough about him.
He was not controlling her. He didnt have that power. He could have had women to control, but was not controlling her.
Oh but he enjoyed seeing her and if he touched her, Mr Adams only touched her, stroking. She hadnt told Ann Marie that bit so like nobody knew, and never would, nobody, because he would never have spoken about her. He was an adult man and not a boy. Boys would tell each other, that was boys, then coming to your door and asking whoever, your mum, even your mum, oh Helen, is she coming out to play? My God, that was boys, Helen heard them at the door but wouldnt answer.
Men had no idea. They only saw you like a body, like imagine shagging her, oh my, sticking it in, it didnt matter anything else. If ever her ex had found out my God he would have killed Mo. He saw her as worrying all the time, worrying over nothing. What you worrying about? there is nothing to worry about. He thought he knew but he didnt. Although she was a worrier what woman wasnt? What mother wasnt? Mo had no idea the risks they were taking just chatting together. That was why London, thank God, never having to think of him.
And so false! Of all people. He would have been falling over himself to see that girl. That was the way he was. It was so false, so false. He always looked. He wouldnt have cared less if Helen had seen him, it was only for the other guy’s benefit that he even pretended, because he was so cool, so so cool, if other men were there. That was her ex at the poolside, him and that girl’s boyfriend, talking and not looking. Oh yes, so mature, so so mature like how they could just chat together drinking their beer and smoking a cigarette, with everything so normal except it wasnt because his girlfriend lying there and with her bare boobs, my God, wasnt he just so cool and mature! A chronic show-off, that was him, like an addiction. Because really he was drooling. It was so funny to see, drinking his beer and talking to that guy and he never ever looked. Of all people. Ha ha, liar.
You had to face things in this life. You could try hiding but sooner or later. If you didnt you still had it to face. That was something Helen had learned. Nobody taught her. Things dont go away, if they are there they are there and always will be there until you do something about it. Because if you dont. It haunts you if you dont.
There was nothing wrong with her memory. If anything the opposite. Details were too clear. Although you had to stop dwelling on details. It made things go wrong. Mo said that and he was right. It led to the bad side of life, as if it was all she could see and it wasnt, it really wasnt. She just had to put it behind her except to put it behind her meant putting it from her mind, Brian and the other one, the one with the limp, she didnt like him.