I was shocked to see him. A week’s growth of beard shadowed his face, his hair was uncombed and his clothes were dirty. I had never seen him like this; Niall had always been dapper. His eyes had a wild, desperate look, and all the self-confidence had gone from him. Suddenly to see him again brought an abrupt change in me. While he lurked invisibly around me he was an unseen threat, an intruder, a rapist … but now he was here he looked young, frightened, rather pathetic.
He said, “Please, Susan, I must talk to you.”
“I can’t. There’s nothing more to say.”
“I’d just like to be alone with you for an hour. Can’t you manage that? Just for a while? I know you hate me now, but I’m desperate to be with you again.”
“Richard’s here, and I can’t leave him.”
“Tell him you want to be on your own for a while. He’ll understand.”
“I don’t want to talk to you!” I said.
“Please … just to say goodbye?”
I saw you then, walking back toward the hotel. You saw me, and waved. As you strode toward me I thought how lithe and fit you were, so full of confidence, so unlike Niall.
“He’ll see you!” I said to Niall.
“No, he won’t.”
You came up to us. “We’ve still got all afternoon. Why don’t we find a beach? I feel like a swim.”
“Tell him,” Niall said.
“I think I’ll walk around the shops for a while. You go on your own.”
“Something’s happened, Sue … what is it?”
“Nothing. I just don’t feel like being on a beach.”
“All right. We’ll do it tomorrow. I’ll come shopping with you.”
Niall was standing back from us, his shoulders hunched. I said, “I think I’d like to be on my own for a while.”
“What’s up, Sue?” you said. “You weren’t like this just now.”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’d like to be by myself.”
You made an exasperated gesture. “If that’s how it is, I’ll find a beach and lie on it until you feel like being with me again.”
Niall was watching as I took your arm and kissed you affectionately on your cheek. “I won’t be long,” I said.
“See you back at the hotel, then.”
You stalked off quickly, obviously irritated with me. I stood with Niall until you had gone inside the hotel, then walked decisively away from him. Niall followed. I led the way out of the small town into the country lanes that surrounded it, and only then slowed the pace. I had been visible ever since Niall spoke to me in the room, and I was determined to stay that way. Niall too remained visible, if only to me.
I was with him for the rest of the afternoon, and into the early evening.
I heard him out. He said many of the same things I had already heard: that he still loved me, that he was lonely, that he was jealous of you. He said he was frightened on his own. I could harden myself against this, and nothing changed.
But we talked a long time. I began to learn things about him that made me realize I had been blocking him too long. He said that he was regretting his past, and, like me, wanted an end to the isolation of invisibility. He wanted somewhere permanent to live, an end to the constant petty crime and trespass. He said he was envious of the way I had been selling my drawings, and as a result had been writing more and more, trying to establish himself. His main problem was finding somewhere to work. Ironically, he was losing confidence in his invisibility and could never concentrate on his writing if he was in somebody else’s house with people there.
And he was convinced that no one read the manuscripts he sent off. He never used the post office, because of the fear most invisibles had that their mail would be overlooked or lost, and so he always delivered to the publishers by hand. Even so, he felt certain the manuscripts were not being read. They were rarely returned to him, and more often than not he had to break in to the offices to retrieve them. Sometimes, he said, the manuscripts were still lying where he had left them. He spoke cynically of his conviction that even if his work somehow overcame this obstacle and was actually published, the printed books would not be noticed or bought.
I tried drawing him out on what he had been writing, but he would only describe the work as stories. He had always been secretive about his writing, but I wished I could read some of it. He made a vague promise to show me a manuscript one day, but I didn’t press him.
Niall would not admit as much, but I interpreted his ambition to be a writer as a symptom of the larger problem. He repeatedly described himself as isolated or lost, comparing himself unfavorably with me. In the past he had usually treated my own wish for normality with contempt, but now he was different. He was frightened he would lose me. I was his link with the real world; he said I was like a guide dog for a blind person. He needed me to help him join the world. This was his real fear and dislike of you: that in losing me to you he would lose himself.
Niall was making a potent appeal to my loyalties. I knew the bitter truth of what he said, and I realized he was maturing at last. I could not harden myself against hearing this. I was not forgetting you, but I found myself forgiving him for the intrusions he had made on us, even apologizing to him for having been unsympathetic. I stayed silent when he tried to make me promise never to see you again, but later said I did not see why we couldn’t remain friends.
I was acutely aware of how long I had been away from you, so I headed back to the town. The sun was lowering and had lost most of its heat, and I knew you would no longer be on the beach. Niall walked with me, urging me to confront you the moment I saw you.
We came across you unexpectedly, walking around in the small square near the cathedral. You saw me before I saw you, and my first reaction was that you must have seen me with Niall. I felt confused, and acted guilty.
You said, “I’ve been looking for you. Where the hell have you been?”
“Walking around the shops,” I said, painfully aware of how few shops there were in the town. “What about you?”
“I lay on the beach for a while, then came looking for you.”
I had glanced at Niall, convinced you could see him.
Niall said, “He doesn’t know I’m here.”
You had an angry look, and what I wanted to do was put my arms around you and explain and try to put it right, but Niall was there.
“I’m sorry,” I said, knowing how feeble it must sound.
“What would you like to do?” you said.
“I don’t mind … anything you like.”
“All right. I’ll leave you to it. You obviously want to be left alone.”
“I didn’t say that.”
You walked away without looking back. I started to follow you, but your shoulders had a determined set to them, and I knew it would have to wait until later. I turned back to Niall, but he had disappeared.
“Niall! Are you there?”
“I’m here.” His voice was close beside me.
“Let me see you.”
“Not now. You want to be with him.”
“It’s not possible at the moment, thanks to you.” I looked around, realizing that to the other people in the street I would appear to be standing and talking to myself. I started walking, knowing that Niall would stay with me. I said, “Don’t you see what you’re doing to him?”
There was no reply. I carried on walking, thinking that Niall was just not answering, but after a few seconds I realized he had moved off and left me. I turned back. Why had he suddenly gone away from me? I went back to the place where he had last spoken to me, called his name. There was no sound of him.