The next morning Howard awoke with a banging
headache and felt the beastly clarion call guilt
that heralds a foul hangover. Worse - his face
hurt. His neck was stiff. His back felt twisted.
His right leg ached. His right eye was blackened
and unsightly bruises had materialised on his
face. His throat was dry and sore, his stomach
felt tender and unsettled. His head throbbed.
His entire body ached. The pain prohibited sleep
and so he was actually early for the first lecture
of the day. Still feeling intoxicated he drove
to the university and parked in a disabled space
to save walking on his injured leg. He encountered
Jacintha as she was entering the lecture theatre.
He tried to congratulate her on her exam results
but she silenced him with a stare of disapproval
at his battered face. She paced coldly into
the theatre. Howard followed at a respectful
distance. His mood was dire. The lecturer had
not arrived yet. An excited crowd of students
swarmed around the blackboard. Jacintha watched
them from the front row. Howard approached to
investigate the fuss. The crowd sprang away
from the blackboard as if it had suddenly burst
into flames. Howard frowned and edged towards
the board. He turned and saw Jacintha approach.
The gathered students scattered away from her
as they had from him. Howard observed that many
of them were smirking. He noticed a photograph
was pinned to the blackboard. The whispers and
sniggers subsided. The room grew utterly silent.
Chalked above the photograph in a scrawl that
was jagged as if written with a fist-held knife
was a single word: '
Whore'.
Troubled, he drew closer to examine the photograph.
His jaw slackened. His eyes widened. He saw
himself! He was intertwined with Jacintha, whose
features were partially obscured but easily
recognisable. He gazed at the picture. There
he was with Jacintha in the optics lab, faces
childlike and pasty in the glare of the flash.
He felt his skin glow. He heard a gasp from
behind him. Jacintha's face reddened awfully.
Her expression was one of sheer shock. However
there was something strange, something beautiful
about her in this tortured state of mind. It
was as if the suffering that had so suddenly
been inflicted upon her exposed her private
character. Like the melting of ice under fire,
her face changed to unfurl an aspect of her
that he had not known before. Through her expression
of exasperation and horror he sensed a mirror
embodiment of kindness and sensitivity. This
revelation was fleeting. She snatched the photograph
from the blackboard and fled the lecture theatre.
Her notes remained neatly placed on the front
row bench.
'
Steve!' he muttered under his breath.
He scanned the theatre for Steve. Faces stared
back but none were peering out from under a
baseball cap. Steve was either hiding or absent.
Howard's mind raced. This foul act was evil
beyond reckoning. A compulsion to find Jacintha
overcame him. He hobbled as fast as his painful
leg would allow from the room into the corridor.
There was no sign of her. He moved towards the
main entrance and out into the street. The freezing
air smote his heated face, he felt as if his
blood was boiling. There was no sign of her.
After a while he abandoned the search. In his
despair he sensed she would only be further
wounded to see him.
That evening his agitation burgeoned. His appetite
had forsaken him. Feeling resolve to renew his
search for Jacintha he stepped out into the
night and drove to Donovan Hall Of Residence.
He stared out across a dark expanse of lawn
to a wing of the building: a great façade of
bricks and windows. Most of the windows were
squares of yellow backlit curtains, casting
a golden glow across the winter night.
He flashed his union card at the old porter
who sat inertly at the door and entered the
hall of residence. With trepidation he ascended
a flight of concrete steps and traversed long
corridors until he arrived at Jacintha's door.
It was one of the few doors unadorned with posters
and tacky trinkets. No light emerged from under
the door. He hesitantly knocked.
After several increasingly loud taps on the
door he became convinced of her absence and
decided to check the Hall bar. He limped along
more corridors and descended stairs.
Donovan Hall Bar was airy, surrounded on three
sides by glass overlooking the labyrinthine
architecture of the hall wings. He scanned the
bar. Clumps of students sat around synthetic
wood tables. Voluble males chattered about females.
He imagined the quieter, unobtrusive females
were analysing the noisy, animated males. Noisy,
animated females talked about themselves. Quiet,
unobtrusive males seemed to number only one,
Howard himself.
There was no sign of Jacintha. As he left he
passed three girls. The girls looked upset and
one was severely distressed. One of her companions
comforted her; the other hurried into the bar.
He drove to the Student Union. His hope vied
against his expectation of finding her. He revved
the engine in rage at a traffic jam. His face
distorted as he obsessed about the photograph
on the blackboard and that stark word scratched
above it.
'Whore.'
He punched the roof of his car.
***
*****
***
Frustrated by his fruitless search, Howard returned
to Napoleon Terrace to find a note in Greg's
handwriting duct taped to the flickering television
screen. Following its hint, he limped to the
Albert Tavern and looked around. The Tavern
reeked of age. Creaking oak furnishings and
beams seemed to resent the youth of its student
consumers. His housemates huddled in a cramped
corner. Greg was in high spirits. He was relating
a riotous memoir of a house party.
Howard told of the exam results and how Steve
had lost the contest. The story went down very
well indeed. Greg was ecstatic at the news of
Steve's misfortune.
'
Sodom! It's almost a pity Karen split
with that wanker, I'd kill to see the look on
his face!'
At that moment Karen arrived at the table with
Dominic bringing up the rear. Gallie looked
shaken. She sheepishly looked away.
'Bloody Hell, Dominic! You look frigging pitiable.
Karen been telling you her life story?' boomed
Greg.
'No, I told him
yours!' riposted Karen.
'Impossible. He'd be dead from shock by now.'
'I must say, I've come terribly close,' said
Dominic. He peered at Gallie tentatively.
'You've heard the news?' asked Karen in a grave,
portentous voice. 'Well, I was with Dominic
out for a fab lunch at... anyway we sort of came
back to Dominic's flat you see and I broke the
heel of my -'
'
Sodom and Gomorrah! Karen,' implored
Greg, 'for Satan's sake stop jawing on and tell
us what bleeding happened!'
Karen and Dominic found spare chairs and squeezed
in around the table. Dominic continued to gaze
meekly at Gallie.
'Well,' said Karen who looked disappointed to
have to prematurely complete her symphony of
gossip, 'the phone rang and I answered it, thinking
it to be my mum, and it was
Steve!'
'Ohhhh! Steve rang?' asked Gallie, curiously.
'Hang on a mo,' blurted Dominic, 'how terribly
odd it is that this Steve fellow has my number!'
With an impulsive wave of a hand, Karen signalled
to Dominic that his silence was desired.
'Yes, it was Steve, and I was like, "Steve,
I know you still love me but I'm completely
going out with Dominic right now actually,"
and Steve was like, "What the
fuck,
you stupid..." - erm, anyway, he told me
he had something really important to tell me
and could I tell Howard.'
Howard's mind had been drifting. He snapped
back into the conversation.
'What? Steve had something to tell
me?'
he said uncertainly. 'Presumably he was whinging
about the mock exams.'
'Nope!' said Karen smugly.
'What
did he say?'
'Well, actually he said your friend overdosed
and-'
'Jacintha?'
Karen seemed pleased at Howard's reaction of
dismay.
'Yeah, and like she's been taken to hospital!'
Howard stared at Karen open jawed.
'Fuck!'
'Silly girl visited a friend of hers and stole
his drugs,' chirped Karen convivially. 'Silly
guy really is in the absolute shit now: once
he discovered his drugs missing and, like, put
two and two together... Anyway, they broke her
door down and discovered her lying on the bed.
OD'ed! She was unconscious but, like, still
alive actually, so they took her away in an
ambulance thingy.'
Howard felt his stomach cramp.
'Well,' burbled Karen, 'the news totally spread
like wildfire all about Donovan Hall and the
first thing Steve did was think of me and ring
me and tell me about it. Actually I think he
still loves me, you know!'
Dominic stared at Karen and the look of embarrassment
on his face sharpened to agitation.
Howard thumped the table.
'I'm going to
murder Steve...
slowly.'
It was Karen's turn to be surprised. Howard
wanted to rant about how Steve had taken the
offensive photograph and placed it on the lecture
theatre blackboard and so had driven Jacintha
to her suicide attempt, but his raging emotions
hindered his speech.
'Howie, you look really in a state! So am
I,
actually!
' enthused Karen.
Greg returned with drinks. He placed a glass
of whiskey in front of Howard. Howard threw
back his head and drained the glass. Unfortunately
the whiskey did not go down without a fight.
He coughed and spluttered in a most ignoble
way considering the grave misery of the situation.
Gallie sighed and put her soft hand on his.
'Ohhh Howie, I'm sure everything will turn out
OK,' she said soothingly.
Howard appreciated her gesture so deeply he
fought back tears. He craved any relief, no
matter how ephemeral, from his feelings of guilt
and wretchedness. He left the tavern to contemplate
what had happened. His remorse manifested itself
as abdominal pain. He shook his head from time
to time but his self-reproach would not be tamed.
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