Talent...and what to do with it

Chapter 5: Jonah

Mum plonked the dinner in front of me. I guess it was ironic that the plate landed right next to the training booklet Sir had given me, which featured advice on diet. I stared at the congealing globules of fat on the bacon and the slight crust on the spaghetti hoops. I wasn't sure this really counted as the pasta and protein recommended for athletes.
"There you go darling, it's your favourite." She took a gulp of white wine. I had no memory of ever suggesting this dinner was my favourite.
"You not eating Mum?" She'd sat down opposite me at the little kitchen table. She swatted her hand as if the idea was ridiculous.
"No, sweetheart, you know I eat later. You always like an early tea." I frowned and took a mouthful of the bacon. It tasted salty and chewy. I hadn't had an early tea since I was five years old. In fact, I was usually the one who put together the dinner then she always picked at it.
My Mum had always been a little bit nuts, but lately she was disturbing me with the stuff she was coming out with. I stopped myself from worrying that she might be beginning to forget how old I was, by opening my mouth and coming out with the first thing I thought of. "So, I've got my first big race this weekend, Mum."
I didn't need to look at her face to sense her confusion. "You know, my running? Remember how they've got me training again at my new school?" I rushed on in case she revealed that she didn't know what I was talking about. "Yeah, so they've put me into this event against other schools. Sir reckons I might beat the local record in the hundred metres. I don't really care, you know, but it's good to be running again. I've got a new training schedule and everything." I rambled on, not bothering to mention the suggested diet. We couldn't afford most of the stuff on it anyway.
"Saturday, you say?" She topped up her wine. I watched and nodded slowly. Why had I even started this conversation? "Oh, I'm sorry love, I can't come on Saturday. I've got that...you know...that thing, on Saturday."
"Oh yeah Mum, that's right. That's a shame isn't it?" I hated myself for going along with the pretence. I suspected she hadn't left the house in over fortnight because even though she said she went to work, I had no evidence of it. I hated myself even more for the feeling of relief that she wouldn't be coming. It wasn't that I was bothered about what my new mates thought, was it?
I was in with the in-crowd now. I liked the new me. My new mates treated me with a healthy respect. They were cautious of me, as if they could sense I had a temper, but I wasn't notorious like I used to be in Manchester. No one here knew about my life and I wanted it to stay that way. So I had a laugh with them but I kept them all at a distance, and I liked them for not being nosy. Sure, half of them were clueless, but it was still good to have mates. Tom from the bus was actually all right, despite his dumb-arse floppy haircut. He was mates with Will who was on the athletics team. Will thought he was something special and he spent most of his energy trying to keep several girls on the go while stopping them finding out about each other. Then there was Riley, Matt's cousin, who barely said a word but was the sort of kid who you knew had your back. They all hung out with Lauren and her mates.
Even though Lauren had surprised me by seeming to have forgotten that Mum and I had walked out without a word, we weren't ever going to be close like we used to be. I doubted I'd ever be properly close to anyone again, but she hadn't spilled her guts about my family or anything about me, and I decided it was best to keep her sweet and make sure it stayed that way. Besides, it was obvious this gang were the school's cool kids. They were the ones everyone wanted to be in with, the ones you didn't mess with. They were the only people I could consider being mates with. 
So things had been going pretty well at school. I'd surprised myself by loving the training even more than I thought I would and enjoyed being noticed for my running rather than my fighting. Even the lessons were going well. Mrs Pollock actually explained stuff in a way that made a little bit of sense.
Yeah, school was OK. Home, not so much.
Mum had had big ideas when she inherited Grandad's house. She had tried so hard to make it exciting, and I'd gone with it, both of us kidding each other that everything was going to be great. As well as full refurbishment of the house, getting a job, and learning to cook, she was going to get fit and cut out alcohol and caffeine.
But after the disastrous attempt to decorate the lounge, Mum had lost interest. She also lost interest in changing the names on the bills, on sorting out the phone and Wi-Fi, and pretty much everything else including keeping her new job. When we were in Manchester we never quite knew when Dad would bring a load of cash home. We would have a few lean months and then all of a sudden we'd be rich again. I suspected Mum assumed that a windfall would come in just as it had before, but I knew now we had to rely on ourselves. I had to find a part-time job and soon, but fitting anything in around training and school was difficult.
I should have given up the running, but I couldn't. I loved it. It transformed me. I was becoming addicted to the feeling of cutting through the air, pounding the track, feeling myself becoming more and more powerful and faster and faster.
The race was exactly what I needed to focus my mind. By Saturday I was ready to show them all what I could do. Not that I really cared about the spectators. When I waited on the starting blocks everything around me faded. Weeks of training and pushing my body were about to be put to the test. I could feel every muscle ready to power ahead. I lifted up into second position and the stored energy made me certain that I was going to win. There were no nerves, just an amazing tension, like you get when a tight spring is about to release. It wasn't even about my competitors anymore. When I'd seen them lining up I'd dismissed them with a crazy sense of superiority. I knew I would beat them. This was about me running the fastest I could.
It had been clear to me that I was going to win and I did. I won every race, and in the one hundred metres I beat the County record. It was easy.
By the last race, Mr Jacobs couldn't hide his glee. He looked like a James Bond baddie who had finally unveiled his secret weapon. I mean, I was pleased, but not really surprised. He was jumping about the place like a kid, though, obviously shocked that the protégée he'd betted on actually had some ability. As kids and teachers came up to shake my hand or bash me on the back, I felt more of their respect and it felt good. But I knew I could have done better. Even as I was getting congratulations, I was thinking how I could work on my distance running. I should have smashed the record for that, too.
"A fantastic run, young man." A bald fella in a corduroy jacket was shaking my hand and patting my back in a familiar way, as if I would have a clue who the hell he was. I stepped back and stared at him.  He looked down at his hand and rubbed it.
"I'm Mr Mulligan. I'm the school Governor for Health and Sports. We are very pleased to have such a talented athlete join the school. You may know my daughter, Jessica." Hearing a father's pride grated with me. I set my expression hard. I didn't know who he was talking about and I wasn't easily impressed. There was a crowd, everyone was still talking about the race, and I couldn't see the girl. Then someone moved and I saw Mr Mulligan was steering his daughter forward.
It was the blonde girl from the bus. She was looking down at the ground, clearly the only one there not impressed by my run. I had seen her on the bus every day.  She had always been staring out of the window. I had thought about our conversation on the bus a few times since. People didn't usually surprise me, but she definitely intrigued me. I thought I saw her once coming into the Learning Unit. I had been distracted by a flash of her blond hair as she had disappeared into a room across the corridor from mine and for some reason I'd thought of a story my Grandma used to read me years ago about someone spinning flax into gold. I had laughed at myself then because I didn't even know what flax was and I doubted I was remembering the story right. But seeing her had given me that good memory and I liked her for it.   
Her dad was still droning on.
"...interested in taking up sports. I think you could probably help each other..."
She looked up then for the first time, first glancing at her dad with what looked like horror, then turning her gaze to me. I had forgotten her eyes. Their vivid blue was shocking, particularly when coupled with her expression. She was glaring at me as if she hated me.
Meanwhile, her dad was handing me a card and telling me to ring him. His tone suggested he was bestowing a great honour on me. I crumpled the card in my hand as I was swept away by Sir.
When I found the business card again in my pocket at the end of the day, I saw that he had written a message on the back to ring him if I was interested in a job. I decided I had nothing to lose by ringing him. His offer was bizarre, but it was impossible to refuse. He was actually offering to pay me to take his daughter running. The guy must have been insane, and if it weren't for the lack of other options, I would have turned him down flat. The whole thing felt wrong, sort of underhand, but that wasn't my problem. The bottom line was it was paid work and I would still be able to keep up with my training. All I had to do was drag the reluctant Jessica along with me.
But when I was waiting in the park two days later I started to question my sanity. It was 6.45am. The sun was barely up and there was an autumn chill in the air. I should have started running five minutes ago, but instead I was bobbing about on the spot to keep warm while hanging around for my new training partner. I was superstitious when it came to running - actually when it came to most things - and a change of routine didn't bode well.
When I first glimpsed her, despite my dark mood, I had to stop myself laughing. It seemed no one did awkwardness quite like this girl. She kind of scurried through the park gates. She was definitely not running, but was walking in a fast and determined way, her upper body leaning forward and her head down.
"Hey, Jessica! Over here!"
She was red in the face when she got to me and just nodded. It seemed she was too out of breath to talk. She had a rucksack on, worn with one strap on each shoulder like you saw the European exchange students do. I sighed at her geekiness. "You're not gonna be able to run carrying that. Put it on the bench over there. I pointed to the green hut by the side of the lake, installed to protect holidaymakers from the weather. She still said nothing but looked warily at the hut, so I spoke up. "It's not got anything valuable in it has it? Even if it has, it's not like there's anyone else round here at this hour, is there? And anyway, we're only going round the lake - it will hardly be out of our sight." She nodded and deposited the bag where I had suggested before returning to my side. She still hadn't spoken or even properly looked at me.
"Right, well, you look like you've warmed up, so let's go. We'll start slow, then build up the pace."
I thought it wouldn't make any difference to me whether I jogged alone or not. But ten seconds in and I was already annoyed. She hadn't even set off with me. When I pulled up, I turned back to her and she was standing where we started looking helpless. She cleared her throat. "Er, can't you show me how to do it?"
"How to do what?"
"How to run."
Was she winding me up? "How to run?" I walked back to her. "Are you kidding me?"
But it turned out she wasn't. "I mean," she tugged on her white polo shirt, "what should I do with my arms and stuff?"
I realised then that she wasn't the full ticket. That's why her dad needed someone to help her. I felt a bit sorry for her. It explained why I had seen her in the Learning Unit.
"OK. Sorry. You hold your hands like this, and move your arms like this and then you move your legs."  She was frowning like she was concentrating and she hadn't even noticed how slowly and carefully I was talking and moving. She seemed to understand.
"Let's go. We'll try one lap around the lake."
We'd gone about thirty metres before she had to stop. I'd been letting her set the pace. With my long legs next to her short ones, I was barely jogging, but she was purple and could hardly catch her breath. She doubled over, leaning on her shins, and waved me to go on. "You do it. It's fine. I'll sit here." She pointed to the wooden shelter where she'd left her backpack. I shrugged and jogged on. I wasn't prepared to have her holding me back.
I completed another lap and slowed down as I reached her. She looked completely different. She was cool and calm, her face that spooky pale again peering out from all that golden hair. She looked like some kind of sprite curled up in the corner of the shelter. She spoke before I could say anything.
"You go on, I'll just sit here for the rest of the hour."
My time was too precious to argue with her. By my next lap she'd pulled a coat and a book out of her bag and was munching on an apple. I couldn't figure her out. Despite the cold, damp air, she now looked comfortable and relaxed. She was completely absorbed in the thick textbook she was holding. For someone who wasn't that bright, she seemed to love a good book.
I thought about what she was doing here as I ran. What was the deal with her dad? Why was she going along with it? And what did she think of me? For some reason an image of Georgia, my ex, popped in my head. It wasn't because they were similar, in fact Georgia and Jessica were exact opposites. Georgia was all curves and confidence, bold and brash. She was older than me and more experienced and more than happy to share her knowledge. It turned out there were some things I could learn quickly. I smiled at the memories. I had found Georgia more intoxicating than any of the alcohol or drugs my mates were using. I wondered what had made me think of her. Maybe it was because everyone had been impressed with my ability to pull Georgia and I knew a lot of other girls would have been happy to take her place (some did a few times), and yet this geeky blonde girl didn't seemed to have even noticed me. I quickened my pace. Did she think I looked good running? Could she see the power in my limbs? She might have been just a geek but I still wanted to impress her. It was an old habit. I liked to be admired.
But she didn't look up again until I stopped in front of her at the end of my training. "Oh!  Are you finished?" She looked dazed, the same expression as she'd had on the bus, as if she had forgotten I was there. It was annoying. Girls usually didn't forget I was there.
I glanced at the stopwatch, and then had to look again. I had completed the training in my best time yet. Turned out thinking about showing off to her had made me faster. My mood lifted. I nodded to her bag and her books.
"Looks to me like you were quite prepared to drop out of the training."
She blinked, those blue eyes wide, but somehow her innocent expression didn't quite ring true. "I don't know what you mean."
She irritated me but somehow I found myself grinning at her. She just stared back, which made me laugh even more. No girl had ever just stared at me when I was giving her the full force of my smile. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, but I decided that even though she was a nerd, I liked her. After all she'd helped me get my best time yet, hadn't she?
We walked back to the gates together in silence, me wondering if I would still get paid. "Listen, what are you going to tell your dad about today?"
"I'll tell him I ran round the lake, and that it was very helpful for both the exercise and the mental relaxation, as well as the all-important social interaction which I require." She recited it as if she had learnt it off by heart. I was about to ask what the whole thing was about, but she glanced at me, and I forgot my question as the early morning sunlight behind her deepened the intensity of her eyes, "Don't worry, you'll still get your money. He is paying you, isn't he?" She spoke softly then turned before I could answer. "Same time tomorrow morning," she mumbled as she walked away.
I had a feeling she wasn't as dumb as I'd thought.
But even so the whole thing bugged me. I felt like she had got one past me somehow, and it wasn't a feeling I was comfortable with. I decided I was going to make her run whether she liked it or not.
The next day she sat down in her hut and pulled out her book. It was called Advanced Maths. She was definitely not dumb at all. She looked up at me, clearly surprised that I had even followed her over there.
"I've been thinking about this. I'm not going to take your dad's money under false pretences. It's just not what I'm about."
She looked stricken for a second, and I stifled a smile. She really didn't know me that well if she thought I had that many scruples about honesty.
"I reckon you either train, or I tell your dad I can't do this." I raised an eyebrow while I waited for her response, hoping that this gamble was going to come off, because basically there was no way I was going to give her dad his money back. "Unless you're scared of course?"
That woke her up. She lifted her chin and looked me in the eye. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not scared of anything so utterly pointless."
I wanted to laugh but instead pulled out my phone. "So I'll call your dad then?" She watched me as I scrolled through the contacts and for a second I thought I was actually going to have to throw away the easiest job I'd ever found.
"Oh, alright then." She spoke grudgingly and dragged herself up as if she was about to be tortured. I smiled. There really was nothing quite so good as winning.
We started a lot slower this time. It was practically a walk. Even so she looked like she was going to pass out. How could someone my age be so unfit? I had plenty of time to look at her as we plodded along. I decided she didn't look unfit. Quite the opposite really. She was petite, but she still had shape. She wasn't in-your-face hot like Georgia had been, but she made you look twice and the more I looked the more I thought she had a certain classy prettiness about her. I was also sort of fascinated by the way her golden hair swung as she ran. Yeah, if it hadn't been for her weird personality, her purple face and wheezing breath, she could almost be my type. I laughed at myself. I was checking out the school nerd. My mates back home would have creased up.
I talked to chase the weird thoughts out of my head.
"I don't get why your dad wants you to do this anyway."
She didn't answer because she was taking gulps of air, so I steered her to a bench for a break. I took a swig of my water and then passed it to her. She looked the bottle and it bugged me.
"Just have a drink, Jessica. You need it." She took a hesitant sip and then hastily handed it back to me.
"So I asked what the story was with your dad and the running thing..."
She looked at the lake behind me.  "Hmm, it's because I need to take up a hobby, to make me seem more interesting."
I frowned and waited for her to go on, but she just sat there. I chuckled. "More interesting? Jessica Mulligan, it seems to me you are already pretty interesting." She might have blushed, but it was hard to tell when she was already rosy red from running.
She stood up. "Come on then, I thought we were supposed to be running." I set off after her, wondering what could be such a secret that she'd rather run than explain what was going on.
Two weeks later and I was still no closer to figuring Jess out. Her dad sent a cheque once a week to my home address, as agreed, and she turned up every day, as agreed. She came out of her shell a little bit as we ran, but she wasn't much of a talker, which only made me talk more. Even so, I liked her company. I liked the way she didn't seem to care what I did or said, and I realised I relaxed far more with her than I did with my new mates. Somehow I felt the need to keep up the hard man act with them, but with Jess I was just myself. It made me realise that I hadn't been just me in front of anyone for a long, long time. I didn't tell my mates about my arrangement with Jess. I didn't even let on I knew her. We saw each other every day on the bus only twenty minutes after training and we both ignored each other. I figured that suited both of us.
She was getting better and that made me feel good. The day she ran the whole way round the lake without having to stop, I realised how it must feel to be Mr Jacobs when I won a race.
I waited at the end of the lap, watching her run the final bend. I wasn't close enough to see her face but I could guess her expression – pure gritty determination. I knew she wouldn't jump up and down and pump the air like I probably would have done, but even she would be quietly pleased with herself. This was worth celebrating though. "You did it!" I shouted as I ran towards her. "Look at you, you're barely out of breath! That's amazing."
She rested her hands on her knees as she recovered, but then she looked up at me and smiled a tiny smile and I knew she was as pleased as I was. Before I thought about it, I bounded forward and swept her up in a victory hug. I held her close to me and everything seemed to go still. She felt so insubstantial in my arms. She didn't relax as I held her and I could sense her awkwardness. After a second too long, I released her gently, determined not to apologise. I was just a hugging kind of a person, that was all. It didn't mean anything.
She looked down at her trainers, and I could tell she was embarrassed. I pretended not to notice. "So what's your next target? You gonna join the athletics squad?"
That made her smile again. "Yeah right, I'm sure Mr Jacobs would want the wonder girl who can run almost a mile without having to stop."
"Hey, Jess. Be proud of yourself. You did this. Enjoy the moment. And anyway, it's more like a mile."
"Is it?" She shrugged, still eager to brush off her achievement.
I went to say something but stopped myself. The more I knew Jess the more I realised just how different to other girls she was. She was super-brainy, with a dry sense of humour that she'd unleash when you least expected it. I also had a feeling that she could achieve whatever she set her mind to. I mean, I thought I was single-minded when it came to training, but this girl blew me out of the water with her commitment to her studies. But she had not one iota of vanity, or any idea just how special she was. Quite the opposite, she seemed embarrassed about all the things that made her unique.
"Anyway," she turned away, dismissing her success "you can get on with some proper running now. I've got work to do."
So I set off to begin my training, trying not to think about why I was disappointed that she hadn't seemed to like hugging me, and trying to forget the feeling of the softness of her hair against my face.