Things I Need You to Know by Mark Lamprell

Things I Need You to Know by Mark Lamprell

Author:Mark Lamprell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Text Publishing Company
Published: 2024-05-09T00:00:00+00:00


14

He came alone, of course.

Birdie was in the kitchen, plating a tray of hot sausage rolls when she glanced up and saw him arrive, two hours late for his own party. He prowled across the lawn in a white linen shirt and cream linen trousers that stretched and contracted across his thighs with each step.

It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist and knees, dress does not hide him…

Birdie felt the floor bow beneath her. She gripped the sink, inadvertently pressing her fingertips into the hot baking tray. Soft pads of flesh sizzled. She shrieked and ran her hands under cold water, checking out the window to see if anyone had noticed. They had not.

Ned saw Marcello and rushed towards him in slow motion, or so it seemed to Birdie. Her big husband wrapped his great arms around his friend and lifted him in a bear hug. Marcello surrendered, laughing. Others greeted him, gathering around. It was not a large party, just over a dozen guests. Ned had invited a lot of people from university and school days; many had declined. He couldn’t understand what was going on until Birdie reminded him that he was the popular one, not Marcello.

‘He was reserved, that’s all,’ said Ned.

‘This is why you were the popular one. Because you are loyal and kind and think the best of everybody.’

Birdie paused. The words were not her own. They belonged to the new therapist that Ned had pushed her to see. Paulina was an American of indeterminate age—somewhere in her fifties, Birdie guessed—who counselled clients from the front room of her terrace house close to the city centre. Because she specialised in art therapy, her tiny office was lined with the eccentric drawings and carboard sculptures of patients attempting to express their distress or build a pathway out of it. It wasn’t Birdie’s thing at all but she liked Paulina and trusted her take on life.

Birdie had been describing her failure to get a rise out of Ned over some issue and Paulina said, ‘Sounds like you’re complaining because he’s loyal and kind and thinks the best of everybody.’

Birdie had neither confirmed nor denied.

‘Why do you think that bothers you?’ Paulina had asked.

‘I suppose because I’m not.’

‘Would Ned agree? Would he think that you’re not loyal or kind and don’t think the best of everybody?’

‘No, he would say that I am, that I do. But he’d be wrong.’

‘Because he doesn’t see you?’

‘Because he sees the best in everyone. One of the downsides of seeing the best in everyone is you miss a lot.’

‘So Ned doesn’t see the real you?’

‘It’s not that he doesn’t see the real me. He sees the best me.’

‘And what do you see?’

‘The worst me,’ said Birdie.

‘Show me what she looks like,’ said Paulina, pushing a half-filled sketch pad towards Birdie. ‘Show me best-Birdie and show me worst-Birdie.’

‘I’m hopeless at this,’ said Birdie. She picked up a crayon and started to draw.

Birdie walked down the yard carrying the sausage rolls, determined to be best-Birdie, the Birdie who saw the best in people.



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