Killing Cupid

Chapter 3

Siobhan

Well. That was quite an evening.

I got to college early – I wanted to be the first one there, rather than drifting in with the other students as I did last week. I want to project more authority. I dressed up a bit more this week, too, I’m not sure why. Maybe because I feel a little more confident now I know that they aren’t the world’s most intimidating bunch. So I put on my high boots and my fishnet tights. Decided against the denim mini-skirt – too slapperish, with the fishnets – but went for my knee length black cord skirt, and a polo neck. It must really be true, what they say about attractiveness being all about confidence. I felt pretty good.

As I walked past the main office area, Betty the receptionist called out to me: ‘Ms. McGowan? Someone left this for you.’

She reached over the desk and handed me an envelope; wrapped in a pink ribbon, no less. I mean, who puts a ribbon round an envelope? I thanked her, and she gave me a knowing look over the top of her half-moon specs. I didn’t want to open it then and there, so I went into the disabled toilet and locked the door, before ripping open the envelope. I’d thought it would be a card, so I was surprised to pull out a single, typed sheet of A4, in one of those fancy fonts meant to look like handwriting.

I was even more surprised at the heading: ‘Bookjungle.com: ’ it said. ‘This reader, Aparkinson, has awarded this product * * * * *. Five stars. It was a review of TLA.

‘Sublime, erotic masterpiece,’ was the sub-heading. I quickly scanned the page, superlatives jumping out all over the place at me. It was a rave review, so glowing it was almost neon. In fact – and I never thought I’d say this – it was almost too glowing. Pleased as I was, it was embarrassing, too. Like that creep at the gym that time, who kept going on about how sexy my calves were. Nice to have the compliment, but a bit much really.

I couldn’t even think who Aparkinson was, until I saw the note at the end:

‘Dear Siobhan, I read your book. In case you don’t look at Bookjungle,’ (As if! All authors look at Bookjungle.) ‘I thought you might appreciate my posting. I really loved it. All the very best, see you in class. Alex.’

Alex – the boy rebel. How weird! I wouldn’t have put him down for a pink-ribbon gushy kind of guy. But I had wondered if he fancied me.

He might not, though. Perhaps he just genuinely loved the book. It’s very sweet of him.

I wasn’t quite sure how to react. I mean, what was I supposed to say? Thanks?

I re-read the review more slowly. I can’t say I wasn’t chuffed – it’s been years since anyone posted a review of TLA, not since that bastard who proclaimed it, ‘Unreadable – the worst book I ever read,’ and gave it no stars.

It was, admittedly, lovely to see such a nice one, and to know it’s on the internet for all to see. I kind of wish he hadn’t put his name, though, so the other students, when they eventually – and inevitably – look it up, don’t discount it because they know that he knows me.

Can’t resist transcribing a few choice quotes:

‘The central character, Tara, is incandescent, shining on the page, the kind of person we all dream of meeting in real life but so seldom do; we cannot help but fall for her.’

Aah – sweet!

‘The prose is rich and sweet as marzipan, but never cloying, never too much. Instead, we are happy to gorge ourselves on these delicious words, to get drunk on sugar, to be giddy like E-numbered-up children.’

Hmm, that’s a bit OTT.

‘Sex scenes are notoriously difficult to get right, but McGowan seduces the reader in the same way the handsome Luke seduces the lovely Tara; a verdant eroticism moistens these pages, as sexy as hell, as blissful as heaven.’

Yeah, baby! Love it.

Anyway, I slid the review back into the envelope and put it, plus ribbon (Biggles will enjoy playing with it) back into my bag, and exited the toilet, glad that there wasn’t a queue of cross people in wheelchairs waiting outside.

When I got into the classroom, I expected to see Alex, waiting cockily for my reaction, but the room was empty except for Poor Brian. It was funny, because when he clocked my boots and the tights, his eyes opened so wide you’d have thought I was naked.

‘H-h-h-hello,’ he said, gulping like a cartoon character who’s just swallowed a pikestaff.

We chatted for a bit – I asked him a bit about his fantasy book, but I have to admit that it sounded as if he was talking in a foreign language, with all the place names and weird aliens and so on. I told him that I’d loved The Blind Assassin, and that had a sci-fi story within it, but he hadn’t even heard of Margaret Atwood!

Then he glanced towards the door, and for a moment I thought he was going to lunge at me; he had this rather worryingly expectant look in his eyes. Or else do a runner. But to my astonishment, he produced a copy of TLA! That’s doubled my annual sales figures then. I wonder if they’ve all gone out and bought it? I hope so. But I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to do with it – he sort of waved it at me.

‘Would you like me to sign it?’ I asked, and he blushed gratefully, nodding. I duly inscribed it, and the poor chap looked as if he was about to die with gratitude – but it was a lot more straightforward than Alex’s big gesture.

The others all arrived together, just as I was handing back the book to Brian. I smiled briefly at Alex, but didn’t make real eye contact with him. I felt a bit… flustered, I suppose. Like he somehow had one over on me now – although of course that’s silly. I don’t know what it was, but as soon as I saw him, I felt uneasy. When I looked at him, skinny and cockier than he seemed last week, the review and the pink ribbon seemed a bit inappropriate. I casually leaned over and pushed it right down to the bottom of my handbag, so it was hidden. I suddenly wanted him to be unsure as to whether or not I’d even received it, and I decided not to mention it at all, unless he asked me outright. Perhaps I’ll thank him, next week, without making a big deal out of it.

At the end of the class, I could see Alex beginning to loiter behind the others as they filed out, chatting. Only Kathy was left, so I wandered over to her desk and told her how much I’d enjoyed the piece she’d read out earlier.

‘I’m so glad you liked it!’ she said, her face lighting up. She looks really pretty when she smiles, under that harsh jagged haircut. I subtly edged my shoulders round until my back was to Alex, and he wasn’t in my line of vision at all – although I was somehow still very aware of him there, lurking.

‘Actually,’ Kathy said after a minute chatting about the task, ‘I was wondering if I could have a word?’

Phew, I thought – a reason to ask Alex to leave. But when I turned back around, he was marching out of the classroom, without a farewell.

I turned back, and Kathy was standing there, beaming – with a copy of TLA in her hands! I couldn’t believe it, and started to laugh.

‘I’ll be able to retire on the royalties soon,’ I said. ‘It’s brilliant – you’re all buying it! I knew there was a reason I should take up teaching.’

Kathy laughed too, and good-naturedly handed me a biro. ‘Loved it,’ she said. ‘I really couldn’t put it down.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, blushing. Her praise somehow felt more valid than Alex’s overblown words and Poor Brian’s stammered compliments, and I felt foolish for over-reacting, even in my own head, about Alex’s review. At least I hadn’t made a fool of myself by mentioning it in any way. And having three of them comment on it definitely diluted the impact.

I wonder if there’s any chance that Kathy fancies me too? She certainly seems to glow when she talks to me. But perhaps I’m just being arrogant.

I left the college feeling far more cheerful than of late, all the evening’s words of flattery echoing around my head. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to get another book deal after all. I must have some talent, to provoke such a reaction. I’d just forgotten, that’s all.

Either that, or I’ve got three new admirers! Can’t be bad, however you look at it.

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