Helena could accept that Jim was a little slow about things. She could understand his sensitivity towards others, she could even permit him longer with Kelly if it meant there was a clean break at the end, but what she could not and would not abide was being ignored. It had been almost two weeks since she had seen Jim, dishevelled and hungover. Two weeks since she had figured out that Jim loved her and realised she loved him. The feelings were powerful, all-encompassing, from hair ends to toenails, her whole being ached for him. Her ears wanted to hear his voice, her fingers wanted to touch his, her eyes wanted to see him, all of him, and her lips wanted desperately to be pressed up against his again, and this time there would be no pulling away. Every part of her body willed her to be with him and the only thing stopping her was him. Jim was not answering her calls; his messages had become shorter and more disinterested. Even when she tried to joke, he offered little or no response, no emoji. The last text she received was two days ago. She had told him about burning her fingers on a fan belt and he responded with ‘you okay?’ to which she texted back ‘fine’, then asked how he was. Nothing, no response, not even a smiley face. She had sent seven more texts since then with no success. She tried jokes, questions and then finally raving mad threats and abuse. She wished there was a way to delete sent messages from other people’s phones. She had begun ringing him, only to get his message bank, which she filled with her growing frustration.
A thought occurred to her one afternoon, was Jim getting back at her for not telling him about when she’d had a meltdown? Was the teacher trying to teach her a lesson? She doubted it. It wasn’t like Jim to be manipulative or spiteful. Even as a kid, he had always been the one to broker peace whenever they had a falling out, even when it was completely her fault. Another, uglier thought played in her mind—Jim with Kelly eloping and laughing at how stupid and immature Helena was, how he didn’t really care about her at all. Her hypothetical thinking put her in a foul mood, one that her dad didn’t appreciate.
“You’ve got lightning in your eyes and thunderbolts coming out of your arse. For Christ’s sake, go see him.”
She was too mad to play dumb. “He doesn’t want to see me,” Helena said, hacking into an old MG’s head gasket with a wrench.
Her dad winced and screamed, “Don’t take it out on this old timer.”
“What, you or the car?”
“Both.”
She sighed and dropped the greasy tool, the repeated clanking jarring her nerves. “I can’t do it. I can’t bear to find out why he’s ignoring me, what if…” she trailed off, there were so many scenarios and none of them were good.
“Do you want me to come too? I could give him a kick up the arse.” She shook her head knowing there was nothing metaphoric about what he just said.
“If anyone is doing the kicking, it’ll be me.”
*****
A strange combination of disappointment and relief swept through her at the sight of their empty driveway. Helena decided to go in and snoop. It technically wasn’t wrong, as it was still half her place. Nevertheless, she held her breath as she went inside. The house seemed so empty without Jim. Helena was so used to him being there, laughing, joking, yelling and stomping around. The silence continued as she went from room to room looking for clues as to why he might have been ignoring her. The kitchen sink was full of dirty dishes and his washing basket was overflowing. His bed wasn’t made, everything was even messier than normal. She shook her head. He was hopeless without her.
Helena went to the notepad on the fridge to leave a polite reminder for Jim to call her when she saw something strange. There, across the notepad, was a bright red thumbprint. She smiled and pressed her own thumb across it. Laughing, she headed out the back and there, as she hoped, she found a tray of used paintbrushes. Funny that she hadn’t seen any new artworks in the house, Jim loved flaunting his latest masterpieces. On a hunch, she went to the rusty old shed. Helena yanked the latch across then opened the door and couldn’t believe what she saw.
“What you doing?” asked a high-pitched voice behind her.
Helena jumped and swung the door shut, pulling the latch over then turning to face Kelly who approached rapidly. “Nothing, nothing,” Helena lied and worked hard to push back the unbidden tears.
Kelly eyed her curiously, “Are you looking for Jim?”
Helena supposed that was close enough to the truth and nodded. “Bloody hay fever, though,” Helena said rubbing her eyes.
Kelly looked at her, and asked, “Do you need a tissue?”
“No worries, I’ll get it from the house.” Helena headed up the back steps, Kelly went to follow her but hesitated a moment.
Helena understood Kelly’s curiosity was piqued and managed a panicked, “How’s the wedding plans going?” At that Kelly turned and followed her into the house, beginning to talk at a high rate about everything from dresses to flowers, from music to suits. All Helena could do was continue wiping the tears from her eyes, hoping she had done enough to distract Kelly away from the shed, and away from the paintings.