Surprise Me

I don’t know what’s propelling me – some marriage-in-crisis superpower maybe, that causes all your muscles to explode in strength? But somehow I’m speeding along, past all the joggers, tottering in my black high heels, panting and red-faced. My lungs are on fire and there’s a blister on my heel, but the more it hurts, the harder I run. I don’t know what I’m going to say when I see him. I’m not even sure I can string a sentence together – all I have is the odd random word landing in my brain as I run. Love. Forever. Please.

‘Argh!’ Suddenly, without warning, I feel a massive jolt, and crash to the ground, scraping my face painfully against the tarmac. ‘Ow! Ow!’ I manage to get to my feet, and see a little boy in a recumbent bike, who has clearly just bashed into me and doesn’t look remotely sorry.

‘Sorry!’ A woman is running over. ‘Josh, I’ve told you to be careful on that bike—’ She sees my face in dismay. ‘Oh dear. You’ve cut your forehead. You should see a medic. Do they have a first-aid place?’

‘It’s fine,’ I say hoarsely, and start running again. Now she mentions it, I can feel blood running down my face. But whatever. I’ll find a plaster later.

Climb On is a massive adventure playground for children, full of ropes, dangling ladders and dangerous, hideous, swaying bridges. As it comes into view, the very sight of it makes my stomach turn. Why on earth would you have a party here? What’s wrong with safe activities on the ground?

As I get near I can see Dan. He’s standing on a bridge, at the top of a tower, with a couple of other dads, all wearing safety helmets. But while the dads are joking about something, Dan seems oblivious to the party. He’s staring ahead, his face shadowed, his brow taut.

‘Dan!’ I yell, but the place is full of clamouring children and he doesn’t turn. ‘Dan! Dan!’ I scream so loud that my throat catches and still he doesn’t hear me. I have no choice. Dodging past the entrance barrier, and ignoring the cry of the attendant, I run at the structure, kick off my heels and start climbing up a monstrous set of rope steps that will lead me to the platform that Dan is on. I’m not even thinking about what I’m doing. I’m just getting to Dan in the only way possible.

And it’s only when I’m about ten feet off the ground that I realize what I’m doing. Oh God. No. I can’t … no.

My fingers freeze around the ropes. I start to breathe more quickly. I look down at the ground and think I might vomit. Dan is another twenty feet up. I need to keep climbing. But I can’t. But I have to.

‘Hey!’ An irate voice is calling me from the ground. ‘Who are you? Are you with the party? You need a helmet!’

Somehow I force myself up another step. And up. Tears have started to my eyes. Don’t look down. Don’t look. Another step. The rope steps keep wobbling perilously and suddenly a whimper escapes from me.

‘Sylvie? Sylvie?’ Dan’s voice hits my ears. ‘What the fuck …’

I raise my head to see him peering down at me incredulously.

‘We need a manager,’ someone is saying on the ground. ‘Gavin, you’re deputy manager. You climb up after her.’

‘I’m not climbing after her!’ an indignant voice replies. ‘We’re supposed to use the emergency ladder, anyway. Jamie, get out the emergency ladder.’

Every sinew of my body is begging me to stop. My head is spinning. But somehow I push on, step after step, higher and higher, ignoring the fact that I’m twenty feet off the ground. Twenty-five feet. That I don’t have any harness. Or any helmet. That if I fell … No. Stop. Don’t think about falling. Keep going.

I’m aware of the atmosphere becoming quieter. Everyone must be watching. Are the girls watching? My hands have started sweating. My breath is coming in fast, harsh little gasps.

Now the platform is only a few feet away. Only a few more steps will do it. But suddenly a new tremor comes over me. My legs are shaking so hard that I feel the hugest wash of fear I have yet. I can’t control my limbs. I can’t do this. I’m going to fall, I’m going to fall, how can I not fall?

‘You’re nearly there.’ Dan’s voice is suddenly in my ears. Solid. Familiar. Something to cling to mentally. ‘You’re nearly there,’ he repeats. ‘You’re not going to fall. One more step. Hand on the platform. Nearly there, Sylvie, nearly there.’

And suddenly I’m there, and his strong hand is grasping mine and I’m collapsing on the wooden platform, and for a few moments I can’t move. At last I raise my head to see Dan staring at me, with such a scrubcious face that I want to laugh, except I can’t because tears are streaming down my face.

‘What the fuck?’ he demands, and grabs me so tightly, I gasp. ‘What the fuck? Sylvie, you could have … What were you doing?’ He stares at me, looking quite aghast. I suppose I am quite an apparition, what with the shorn hair and the blood dripping down my face. ‘Were you trying to surprise me? Or shock me? Or give me a heart attack? Is this real?’ He touches my cheek and as blood comes away on his fingers, he looks even more shocked. ‘Jesus Christ.’

‘I wasn’t trying to surprise you,’ I manage, my breaths still short and fast. ‘That’s not what this is. I just … I just had to see you. Didn’t you get my messages?’

‘Messages?’ His hand goes automatically to his pocket. ‘No. My phone’s fucked. Sylvie … what is this? You can’t do heights.’ He looks at the ground, thirty feet below, then at me. ‘You can’t even do a stepladder.’

‘Well.’ I rub my bloody face. ‘Looks like I did them.’

‘But … your face. Your hair. What’s happened? Sylvie, what the hell—’ He suddenly turns ashen. ‘Have you been attacked?’

‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘No. I cut my hair off myself. Dan, listen. I know. About …’ I have to get this through to him, urgently. ‘I know.’

‘You “know”?’ A familiar guarded expression comes across his face, as though ready to bat away my questions. And in that moment I realize just how much he’s been keeping from me. What a constant pressure it must have been. No wonder he’s fed up.

‘I know, OK? Believe me. I know.’

The other dads who were on the platform with Dan have tactfully headed off to the zip-wire platform, where all the children, including our two, are clustering with play leaders in branded T-shirts. We’re alone.

‘What do you know, exactly, Sylvie?’ says Dan cautiously. And his willingness to protect me, even now, makes my eyes hot. I stare back at him, thoughts swirling around my mind. What exactly do I know? Nothing, it feels like, most of the time.

‘I know that you’re not the man I thought you were.’ I gaze into his guarded blue eyes, trying to get beneath the surface. ‘You’re so, so much more than I ever realized.’ My throat is suddenly tight, but I press on. ‘I know what you’ve been doing, Dan. I know what all the secrets are. I know about my father. Joss Burton. The whole thing. I read the emails.’ I take a deep breath. ‘I know my father was a liar and a shit.’

Dan visibly flinches and stares at me incredulously. ‘What did you say?’

‘My father was a liar. And a shit.’