"Student Union" by SJ Bottomley (best e book reader .txt) 📖

did, it was absolutely certain to me that there couldn't be anyone else that she was referring to. I didn't even need to ask her to clarify the situation any. Just in case. Okay, let's look into this a little. I'll hold my hands up. I hardly know anything about Gemma. I don't. Why should I? I've only spoken to her a handful of times and the last of these must have occurred years ago. And because I don't. I also don't know anything about any of her friends...Except one. Kathryn. Obviously. For all I know, Gemma could be the most popular person in the world and she may well have a million or more friends. Any one of these could quite easily be currently residing in Liverpool. I have nothing to prove the contrary. However, for some reason, I find this a little unlikely. Not knowing, it's hardly right either, that I make a character analysis. But, I will anyway. And from what I do know, I find it hard to come to this kind of conclusion. I mean, I'm sure that she's very nice. But come on, let's be realistic. If it wasn't Kathryn, then it would have to be something of a coincidence that not one but two of Gemma's friends were in Liverpool at the very same time. It's possible, of course it is. I'm not denying that. Perfectly possible. Just not very likely, I don't think. As far as I could see, it just had to be Kathryn. There was no other explanation.
So, I was sure that it was Kathryn. Still, though, I had to ask. There were two reasons for this. The first is down to my self-confidence. Yeah, I was sure. As I've said. For me, unfortunately, this is not enough. Speculating, if I had walked out at that very moment, saying, "Well, it's been grand, Trudi. Let's do it again sometime...". If I had said that, or words to that effect, and just left, right then, I would have been convinced that the "friend" that Trudi had referred to had been Kathryn and I would have been happy with that. Very happy. Later on, though, when I was back at home. Possibly, not doing very much. Just sitting there, watching television or listening to music. At this point, I know that my mind would be ticking over, reviewing what I had experienced during the day, the things that I had done, the conversations that I had had. And through this process, sooner or later, I would reach that discussion with Trudi and as I would think about it, remember it, I would replay it in my brain, as accurately and as detailed as was possible, it could suddenly strike me that maybe, just maybe, it might not be Kathryn. It might just be someone else. "What if?". That's what I would start pondering. Yes, the chances were that it was Kathryn, I would still be able to recognise that, understand that. But, that element of doubt, no matter how small, would begin to creep in. That absolute certainty that I had felt earlier would all of a sudden disappear. And gradually, over time, over quite a long period of time...By that, I mean weeks, months, whatever. Slowly, the certainty would change to a probably, then to a possibly and so on and so on until, in the end, it would become nothing more than an enormous question mark. What if? What if it wasn't Kathryn that Trudi was talking about?
That was the first reason that I decided to ask. The second was that, as I was saying earlier, this was my opportunity. I couldn't let it pass now. If I did, I didn't know when it would come round again. Or, if it would ever come round again. With me not living there anymore, I was seeing the family a lot less frequently than I used to. Plus, it would be a completely wasted journey. I may as well have just rang the bell, waited for her to open the door, handed over the green box, turned my heels and then legged it back to the house. Clearly, I would be something of an idiot if I did this and I knew that if I did, I would never forgive myself for letting this gift go. Being in love with someone that you once knew is a weird experience to have to go through and live with every day. I can tell you that, first hand. When you are there, in the thick of it, with them, communicating with them, interacting with them on a daily basis...Or in this particular case, almost a daily basis, as good as. When you are in that kind of situation, you almost take for granted the fact that you are getting a constant stream of information from them. And the reason that you practically take it for granted is because at the time, it doesn't really seem like anything. Not anything particularly relevant anyway. So, you take it in, listen to it and then almost instantly, forget what you have heard. This, of course, goes completely against the grain of you being totally in love with this individual, whoever it might be. I don't know. It might possibly be because you are so in love with them, that this occurs, rather than in spite of it. Being blinded or something...Sort of, "Yes, Kathryn. No, Kathryn. Three bags full, Kathryn". Nodding, smiling and just being wowed generally by her sheer presence. Thinking, "Oh, my God! I can't believe that someone so achingly beautiful is standing three feet away from me and what's more, she's actually talking to me. Unbelievable...". As a consequence of this, whichever way it might be, any information about Kathryn, apart from the really important things, IE- Australia, boyfriend, etc. Those things stuck, but the little stuff, the day to day stuff, that kind of information, I just forgot. However, when you leave that, when that isn't in your life anymore, when the girl herself isn't in your life anymore; strangely, it might be said, thought it's 100% true, that is the first thing that you miss. I remember that in the days that followed me leaving Tesco, I was curious, fascinated even, to know, what she was up to. What she had done the previous weekend, for instance. Or how university was going. I never got a chance to ask her that. And these were things that I was genuinely interested in. Of course I was, I was in love with the girl. After Kathryn herself, that was the second biggest thing that I missed. The problem was that I had no possible way of knowing, aside from constantly going up to her, whenever I happened to be in there, and asking her how things were. But, that would have been a touch weird, I think. Plus, as I discussed in "Avril Lavigne", there was that "understanding" that silently seemed to develop between us that ended up with both of us not acknowledging one another any longer, whenever we passed in the store. As though we were total strangers. As though we had never worked with each other, never had a discussion about anything. This was just the way things happened to turn out. Fair enough. I said it in "Avril Lavigne", I know, and I'm merely repeating myself now, but this was never really a big deal to me. For some absolutely, completely, mind-bogglingly unfathomable reason. Anyway, a consequence of this occurrence is that, as mentioned above, I stopped learning things about her. A very good example of this, is her dropping out of university. I was never certain of this being true or not until that final day and that unexpectedly and thoroughly shocking conversation that she had with Dad. It might even be said, and it's probably true in fact, that this was the first time that I had heard anything to do with Kathryn, from Kathryn herself, since I left. However many years ago. As you can hopefully see then, information on her has been at a premium in recent years. And this, now, stood in the neighbour’s hall, with Trudi, was another of those rare chances. This, as I mentioned above, might not happen again.
And so, taking a deep breath, I asked the question. Because it was, to an extent, I suppose, on the spur of the moment, I hadn’t exactly had time to plan what I was going to ask, down to the last word. I knew basically what I wanted to say in order to get an answer one way or another; but as to how it would come out, that was purely down to fate. Thinking about it now, with as much planning as I could get in the short time that was allowed to me in that situation, I wanted the feeling of what I was asking to be as relaxed as I could make it. The last thing that I wished to happen was for me to come across as some psychotic nutter who was desperate to find out any scrap of information that he could about the woman that he was obsessed with. Even if this was probably the truth of it, it was hardly the impression that I wanted to put across to the person stood in front of me who was not only once my next door neighbour, but also someone who, in a kind of indirect and obscure sort of way, could still get information to Kathryn. Imagine the conversation across the dinner table that night, if I had got things wrong and made a divvy of myself. Trudi- “Oh, you’ll never believe what happened today”, James- “What? What happened today?”, Trudi- “Well, I had Steven round this afternoon, bringing back one of your Dad’s tools and he asked me a question about Kathryn McKenna in a tone that strongly indicated that he was...Well, how can I put it? Madly in love with her...? Yes, that’s about right...”, James- “Oh, really. How interesting.” James tells Gemma. Gemma tells Kathryn. Game over. This, understandably, I think, was not how I wanted things to work out. If I could keep calm, keep my cool, try to sound relaxed and ultimately, as if this was no big deal to me at all; if I could do that, then I just might be able to get away with it. So, I thought. It must have been my lucky day because when I came to open my mouth, this was precisely how it happened. Trudi had told me that last night Gemma had gone to Liverpool to visit one of her friends and my exact words in response to this were...”Oh, you mean Kathryn?”. Brilliant. Perfect. If I had sat down for a week or more, with a pencil and paper and tried to plan what I was going to say until I was on the verge of passing out or going insane, I couldn’t have worked it out any better than that. It was...a natural response. That’s the best way that I can describe it to you. It sounded one hundred percent like a natural thing to say. Of course, it wasn’t. But, she didn’t know any better. However, despite the pride that I felt in my behaviour and what I had said, the way that I had phrased the question, at that moment, everything seemed to grind to a halt. It was as though we were both suspended in thin air or something as the fraction of a second between me asking the question and Trudi answering it passed by. It felt like an eternity, like something that would never end but eventually it did and I got an answer. And it was good. Oh, boy, was it good. When time decided that it was alright to continue, Trudi gave me a positive response to what I had