Listening to reason by James Smyth

Read by Martin Lamb

The thing about having an imaginary friend when you’re twenty-five, is that people often don’t take you seriously. That’s why I don’t mention him that often. It’s embarrassing, of course, but it’s not like I have a choice in the matter. I mean, he turned up when I was ten, and has shown no signs of leaving me alone any time soon, so what am I supposed to do? Ignore him? That’s easier said than done.

I call him Pip. It seemed like a good name when I was a kid, but it’s starting to sound a bit twee now. I’ve tried ‘Phil’, but he’s having none of it. He can be quite forthright when he wants to be. So yeah, it looks like me and Pip are going to be best chums for a good while yet.

And to be honest it’s not all bad. I used to get peculiar looks in the street sometimes, when I forgot myself and started chattering away, but nowadays I just stick a mobile headset in my ear and no-one bats an eyelid. That’s one of the reasons I know I’m not insane. You see the proper mad people, bellowing into thin air, and none of them have even thought of that. At least I’m aware that Pip isn’t really there. I’m fine, mentally, I’m pretty sure. It’s just one of those things.

Anyway, the other day I met a girl. A nice girl, too. I met her, if you can believe this, in the library. I’d actually only gone in there to use the loo, and when I came out, there she was. She was in the kids’ section, although she didn’t have a pushchair or anything with her, and didn’t look pregnant. Pip was in that section too, looking at picture books (he’s only eight.) She was beautiful though. Or at least pretty. Nice-looking anyway, which was more than good enough for me. I don’t really get on too well with girls. I’ve asked Pip about it, but I don’t know what I expect to get out of him. He thinks all girls smell.

So I went over. Not in a big, confident way, like I imagine other people do. I didn’t have anything I planned to say. I just went over. She was reading a book called The Very Hungry Caterpillar, which I’d never heard of, and she was smiling, in a secret sort of way, and turning the pages very slowly, although as far as I could see there wasn’t much to read on each one. I stood next to her and picked up a book. I don’t even know which one it was – something about dragons I think – and we both stood there reading for a while. It didn’t take long for me to realise that I wasn’t actually ever going to say anything, and that if ever there had been a moment to say something, that moment was long gone, probably in the first five seconds, and that pretty soon I would have to sidle away.

Then it happened. It was nothing, really. But I saw her turn over the page of her book, still with that smile, and all of a sudden she let out a silly little snort, or a laugh, and covered her mouth with embarrassment. I looked up, and I caught her eye, and I managed a smile. And now she had to say something. Surely she did.

“I’m sorry. This book always gets me. Ever since I was little.”

It was more than I could ever have hoped for. I nodded and smiled some more.

“That’s all right,” I said.

“I always wish they’d keep it in the adult section, you know? Save me from looking weird.”

“You could always pretend you’re getting it for your kid.”

And so it was a conversation. I won’t pretend that I sparkled wittily, because I’m pretty sure I didn’t, but at the end of it I asked her out for a drink, which is something I’ve never done before. She said that that would be nice. She gave me her number. Then she put back the book about the caterpillar and I put back the book about the dragons – or whatever – and I walked her to the door, where I said goodbye, pretending that I needed the loo again, even though I didn’t, because that seemed a natural way to separate. I said I would call her later that day.

Anyway, afterwards Pip came over, and asked me about the whole thing. I must admit that I was feeling pretty proud of myself, and told him the full story. He scowled throughout, his fists pushed disapprovingly into the pockets of his short trousers. I asked him if he would be happy if I had a girlfriend, and he shook his head and stared at the ground, and I told him not to be silly, and even if it wasn’t this girl, I would have a girlfriend one day, and he would have to get used to the idea.

It was at this point that I realised that I’d forgotten to put my mobile headset in, and was getting looks from the librarians. I headed outside quickly. Pip slouched behind me, mumbling something to himself, and was still mumbling when we got on the bus home. I put in my mobile headset and tried to talk to him, but every time I asked him a question he would take his hands out of his pockets and stick his fingers in his ears.

It was around three o’clock in the afternoon when we got home. I don’t do a job, really, so I generally spend the early part of the day in town, and then the rest of it at the flat, talking to Pip. He didn’t seem like talking that night though, so I just watched some things on the telly and went to bed early. Pip doesn’t seem to sleep very often, so he usually just stands in my bedroom and waits for me to wake up. It’s nice, in a way, like having a guardian angel. I hoped he’d be in a better mood the next day.

I’d arranged to meet Louise (that was her name) in a local pub the next night. I spent the early part of the day in town, as normal, but in the afternoon I went to the barber’s and got my hair cut, which was something I hadn’t done for a while. Pip stood there the whole time I was in the chair, looking disapproving. Afterwards, I must say that I looked very smart, and I would have tipped the barber, only I had just the right amount of money for the haircut and the bus fare home. It would have be nice to buy a new shirt for the date, but in the end I just went through all my clothes and found one that I hadn’t worn for a while. That made it seem sort of new to me.

I talked to Pip before I went out. I knew he’d be there too (he always is) but I made him promise that he’d behave, and not distract me, and not make me look all weird in front of Louise. I explained how important this all was, and that he was probably too young to understand, but that most people of my age have a girlfriend and it was high time that I sorted something out. In a way, I think he understood, although I wasn’t sure that he entirely agreed to do what I asked. That made me nervous, but I was nervous already, so it didn’t make matters too much worse.

I arrived at the pub half an hour early and had a quick drink to calm my nerves. It was seven thirty, and the pub was fairly quiet. Pip was in the corner, pressing the buttons on the fruit machine, even though I’d told him not to. Then Louise arrived, and she looked better than nice-looking, better even that pretty. I got up and said hello and offered to buy her a drink. She wanted a gin and tonic, so I ordered that from the bar, which is something I’ve never ordered before. Then we sat down and started talking.

“So do we have anything in common other than The Very Hungry Caterpillar?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “What do you like to do apart from go to the library?”

And so it was a conversation. I had a couple of drinks, which wasn’t too many, but enough to make me relax a little, and I think it was a better talk than the one we’d had at the library. A few times Pip came over and sat beside her, or sat beside me, and made vague attempts to catch my attention, but I made sure that I concentrated and I’m pretty sure Louise didn’t notice anything strange.

“I quite like the fact that you’re a bit weird,” she said to me at one point, and she was smiling while she said it, so I wasn’t offended. I believed her. And at the end of the night (around ten o’clock) she said that I should go round her house the next night for dinner. I thought this was maybe a bit soon, but then maybe Louise is lonely, like I am, so I said I would. She kissed me on the cheek.

That was last night. That means I have to round to hers tonight, in about two hours. It isn’t going to be easy, because I haven’t slept at all well. I know I said before that having Pip around isn’t all bad, and it isn’t. He’s usually fun to talk to, and considering I don’t know very many people, that sometimes counts for a lot. And even though he’s only eight, he looks out for me, and gives me advice, and usually it turns out to be good advice, because I’m still alive, aren’t I, and nothing too bad has happened.

Last night, though, wasn’t very nice. He wouldn’t let me go to sleep, because he kept going on and on about Louise. I knew he didn’t like her, probably because he didn’t like the idea of me having a girlfriend – I don’t think it was personal – but he really wouldn’t let it go. He gets like that sometimes, and in the end I generally do what he says. It’s just easier that way. Like my last job – my last proper job – he made me leave, which I didn’t really want to do at the time, but now I see that perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea. Pip was lonely then, anyway, because I was quite often busy at work and didn’t have time for him. Sometimes I wouldn’t see him for days on end.  That’s no way to treat a friend.

I’m not very happy about what he said about Louise. I said maybe it’s enough if I just don’t go round. If I don’t see her again. He said that there would still be the temptation, and I suppose he’s right. I’ve got a splitting headache. Pip has collected the things – from the kitchen – that I’ll need to take round with me. He’s there right now, in his chair, watching me, and smiling, because he knows he always gets what he wants in the end.

 

Listening to Reason by James Smyth was read by Martin Lamb

James Smyth currently works in the City, doing a job so shamefully unBohemian it hardly seems appropriate to mention it here. He’s been writing for years, specialising mainly in unfinished short fiction and barely begun novels. Once he almost had a story published.

Martin Lamb was born in Southport and studied at St John’s College, Oxford and GSMD. A freelance opera singer, actor and director, he has worked for some of the UK’s leading opera companies over the past few years and particularly enjoys developing new writing projects of all kinds.