Queenie

by Candice Carty-Williams

although I wasn’t a person who ever felt particularly safe, I did, but just for a second.

We warded off the sharp October air by huddling together

The whole bakery smelt so sweet. And not sickly-sweet, it smelt sugary and warm and familiar. I stood on tiptoe and looked over, seeing how her pristine white apron strained over her soft, round stomach.

My grandmother called, and you don’t cancel her calls, so I answered.

‘What’s wrong?’ She always knew when something was wrong.

‘But this is home,’ I said to him. He didn’t reply.

Tom is so cold and horrid to her- why?

‘You never tell me what’s wrong,’ he continued. ‘Ever! And you’d close off, you’d cry and you’d lock yourself in the bathroom while I sat on the floor outside telling you I was there if you wanted to talk, but you never did. You’ve pushed me away for so much of this relationship.’

Is that a nickname? Or your actual name?’ ‘Yes. Is Tom yours?’ I smiled at him.

talk to you about his job.

Obsession with work causing strain on relationship?

I looked at Tom, who avoided my gaze and looked at his brother awkwardly. ‘Tom?’ I asked him sharply. ‘Don’t look at Adam, look at me!’ ‘Queenie, leave it,’ Tom finally said, quietly.

‘Why have you always got to take this stuff so seriously?’ I looked at Tom, saying nothing as I pulled my trainers on.

Tweed Glasses

Potential love interest?

It just didn’t feel like courtship to me. Maybe I was too old-fashioned in my thinking?

I don’t want my friends to think they exist purely to listen to me talk about how much of a joke my life is.

why they’d stuck with me I was constantly trying to work out.

We all know heartbreak. We just have to learn to live with it.’

I felt how I did when someone actually cared about me, and that really fucking frightened me.

‘You need to be ready before you let them come into your life. Maybe you weren’t ready.’ Was she old enough to be talking like this?

I hadn’t known what it was like to know closeness, to be able to share everything with one person, to have someone love you unconditionally, and to love them, despite each others -isms. AD (After our Division) was truly unbearable.

‘Black Lives Matter does not diminish any lives other than ours. That’s not what it’s about. What we’re saying right now is that we are the ones who are suffering.’

I looked at my little cousin. ‘Sorry about this.’ ‘Don’t be sorry,’ she said, helping me up the stairs.

What was in this for her? She was being like Miss Honey from Matilda, or something.

we’ve battled over antidepressants (I am against because I think I’ll turn into a zombie,

‘You didn’t need to handle anything!’ I protested, horrified that she thought she had any responsibility where my mental health was concerned. ‘It wasn’t for you to sort. I put a lot on you. Wasn’t fair of me. I’m sorry.’

‘The road to recovery is not linear. It’s not straight. It’s a bumpy path, with lots of twists and turns. But you’re on the right track.’

‘You’ve just turned twenty-six, your life hasn’t even begun. I had you just after I turned twenty-six. Best year of my life.’

Is this what growing into an adult woman is, having to predict and accordingly arrange for the avoidance of sexual harassment?

As for the anxiety, and the head feeling weird and then the stomach following, even if you do go back to how things were, you made it out before, you’ll make it out again.