The Cupid Effect

  All this emotion by proxy meant I hardly knew what I felt any more. If I felt any more. What did I have to feel about? Everyone else had the life, not me. I experienced the emotion, but I didn’t get closure. Didn’t get the end result when others got their problems sorted or they went back to the thing that made them ecstatic. I ran the race, but never finished and got my medal. I was constantly jumping from one race to another, running every race just as hard, but never finishing. The roads to hell, perhaps?

  And it showed no sign of abating. I literally had no life. My only time alone were those moments I fell asleep and those moments when I woke up. In between, my mind was in constant motion. My mind was sampling everyone’s life, snatching titbits here and there until it was a constant soundtrack to my waking hours. Snatches and excerpts of other people’s experiences playing on loop in my head.

  One night, at the end of May, I found myself outside Jess’s house. She was marking very important final year experimental reports, but let me in anyway.

  I lay with my head on the kitchen table, crumbs from the sandwich she’d eaten earlier grinding into my right cheek.

  ‘Jess, you’ve got to help me,’ I said, staring forlornly at the side of the tea cup she’d placed in front of me.

  ‘I don’t know why everyone comes to tell me everything – good, bad or indifferent – or why I can’t say no, but I really think I’m going mad. What is it about me? Why me?’

  Three days later, she had the answer.

  chapter twenty-eight

  The Answer

  ‘I think I’ve worked it out,’ Jessica said, stretching out on her sofa. ‘Finally.’

  I sat on the floor, the soles of my feet touching, my knees splayed out.

  ‘I’m all ears,’ I said.

  ‘Actually,’ Jessica said, ‘you’re all heart.’

  ‘Hey! All right, I might not be the kindest person on earth all the time, but I do try. So less of the sarcasm.’

  Jessica drew on her cigarette, exhaled, waved the cigarette smoke away from my direction. ‘No, no, I really mean it. Literally, you’re all heart. Basically, we can talk philosophically, or we can talk biologically, or we can talk physics, but the end result is the same.’

  ‘What the blinking flip are you on about?’ I replied.

  Jessica smiled. ‘Remember how Craig said you advertised sex? He was right. Remember how I said you made men fancy me? I was right. And, remember how poor Ed got himself into that state before his date and he said he thought he’d got “bigger”, well he probably didn’t realise that you had something to do with it, too. And you know how everyone has been blaming you for all the changes in their lives? They’re right too. Basically, Ceri, you’re Cupid.’

  chapter twenty-nine

  Stupid, Cupid

  ‘Pay attention, this is complicated.

  ‘In chemistry and biology, there’s the law of osmosis. I don’t know if you remember it from school, but basically, say there are two substances that are separated by a semi-permeable membrane, you know, like a barrier that has tiny, tiny holes in it. If the molecules of the two substances are small enough, and there’s a very concentrated amount of the substance on one side and a slightly less concentrated amount of the substance on the other side, the side with less will attempt to move into the concentrated area through the holes in the barrier. You understand? Less will move into more.’

  I nodded, not knowing where this was leading.

  ‘It’s the same with you, Ceri, but in reverse. You have so much love and affection and sexuality locked up inside yourself, it’s started to leak out. In the form of pheromones. As we both know from all that work you did on subliminal perception, there’s evidence to suggest that love and sexual attraction are governed by those tiny hormones called pheromones. With you, and the abundance I suspect there is of love and sexuality inside of you, it’s leaving the concentrated area that is you and dispersing into the outside world which has less. It’s osmosis in reverse. More is moving into less. You see, you’ve never really used that love and sexuality and affection inside you, so it’s being secreted out of your body as pheromones. Out where it’s needed.

  ‘Think about it, people think that negative emotions if internalised for too long can cause illness, well with you it’s love, a positive emotion. So love’s not going to cause illness, so it’s going outside to where it’s needed. And because you’ve never really used all that love and affection and sexuality, it’s been building up in your body and your body needs to let it out. The only way it knows how to release that pressure is to leak it through your pores. And, as you know, skin is a semipermeable barrier.

  ‘Everyone knows that women’s periods synchronise themselves once they live together for a time and the reason they do that is because of pheromones. What I didn’t know until I read your original degree thesis on subliminal perception was that when women live long-term with men, it’s been found that their periods become more regular – again as a result of pheromones.

  ‘Now, the main reason I think that what’s happening to you is mostly down to pheromones is Ed. Remember his predicament with his penis? I’ll wager you were extremely nervous for him, very worried that he wouldn’t be good enough for that date. You were probably sending out so many conflicting pheromones and vibes that his body subliminally picked up on it and he ended up in that state. Physically, his body wanted to be good enough and that was the only way it knew how to do it.’

  Jess paused. ‘Are you following me so far?’

  ‘Yeah, sure, why not,’ I replied flatly.

  She lit herself another cigarette, slowly breathed life into it.

  ‘All right, now, let’s link all this to what we know about Cupid philosophically. The Romans, who had Cupid as their god of love, needed a way to explain the often irrational ways that people behaved once they fell in love, the seemingly bolt-from-the-blue, narcotic state people experienced love as – hence they drew Cupid as having a bow and arrow. To get that “wham” thing across. Your love, affection and sexuality – released as pheromones – are hitting people like a bolt from the blue. That’s what Craig meant about you subliminally advertising sex. Your pheromones are, subliminally, like your bow and arrow, they encourage people to have sex.’

  Jess paused. Smoked in silence.

  ‘Sticking with philosophy, I have to say, the way you behave is like the original philosophical incarnation of Cupid. The thing is, Cupid, the original Cupid, was a life messer-upper. He may well have been the god of love, but he’s only seen as all-good since the Christianisation of the Roman and Greek religions. The Christians couldn’t leave the god of love as a naughty entity who went around making people do things they wouldn’t normally do – so they fixed the stories and myths so that people falling in love with the wrong people were just cute little mistakes. Not huge great problems.

  ‘But the original incarnation of Cupid was quite disruptive. That’s what’s so true about you saying that you keep messing up people’s lives—’

  ‘No, I didn’t say that, it was everyone else who said that,’ I cut in.

  ‘OK,’ Jess conceded, ‘everyone else says that you mess up their lives, that since you’ve arrived things have gone wrong. Or, at least, have been disrupted. Disruptive, that’s what you are. You can’t help it. You turn up somewhere and lives are transformed. Wherever you go, people are experiencing that bolt from the blue, they are facing up to things, admitting their feelings, following their heart’s desire. And, it must be said, you do have this knack of making people open their hearts. You’ve always been like that.

  ‘Take me, for example. I keep in touch with my ex-students, but you’re the only one who has changed my life and made me a friend, influenced me. Made men fancy me. And that’s why, I reckon, you have very few lasting friendships. It’s as though once you’ve disrupted someone’s life long enough for them to make the necessary changes you move on. You don’t even realise you’re doing it. You’re like the Littlest Hobo, but wi
th people’s hearts and minds.

  ‘I reckon it’s only come to a head now because you’re following your heart’s desire. And, I suppose, you’re releasing lots of happiness hormones out there. Showing everyone what’s possible when you do what your heart really wants you to do. But following your heart’s desire isn’t easy. In fact, it’s hell, the most disruptive thing you can do to your life. The reason why people keep coming to you, keep blaming you is because you’re modern-day Cupid. And you leave The Cupid Effect wherever you go.’

  I let Jess’s words settle like dust around us. Let them soak into the atmosphere until the air was saturated with the nonsense she’d just come up with.

  ‘You’re insane,’ I said. ‘I thought I was mad, but you want locking up.’

  Jess just smiled, lit herself another cigarette. ‘Sweetheart, your track record alone proves you’re Cupid. Look at the men in your life, I couldn’t believe half the things you told me the other week. And I’m sure there’ve been more of them. Ones that you’ve kept from me, but, after all that, with not even one decent relationship, without ever having experienced real love, you still believe in love. You’re still capable of love. You must be Cupid. Because only Cupid would take all that nonsense and still be the loving, caring soul you are. Most people give up over less, but not you. And you still have room in your life for everyone else’s dilemmas and problems.

  ‘Apart from everything I’ve just told you, probably the most damning thing of all is your name.’

  I said nothing, waited for her to explain.

  ‘When you shorten your name to Ceri, you’re actually shortening it to a name that comes from the Welsh word meaning “love”. I don’t know where your parents got it from but your full name, Ceresis, comes from a very obscure and ancient Latin phrase which literally translated means “Heart’s Desire”. You’re actually called Heart’s Desire. How more modern a Cupid do you get than that?’

  I turned from her to look outside at the trees, the sky, the world. Everything beyond the window was normal, the same, all right. Everything had changed and flipped and upended in here. I turned back to Jess.

  ‘D’you really believe that?’ I asked.

  ‘Absolutely,’ she said.

  I nodded in reply. Nodded because I couldn’t speak.

  Then burst into tears.

  chapter thirty

  Reluctancy

  ‘I don’t want to be Cupid,’ I gulped between sobs. ‘I just want to be me. Ceri. Ceresis, at a push. Not “heart’s desire” or disruptive. I just want a normal life.’

  Jess rubbed my back, hugged me and let me sob while variations on the ‘I don’t want to be Cupid’ theme spilt from my mouth. Eventually, she left me crying my heart out, went to the kitchen and came back bearing tea mugs. I’d heard her rummaging around the kitchen drawers, probably looking for chocolate or anything with chocolate in it. Like that would help. My reality had been smashed to pieces and she was giving me tea and looking for something with forty per cent cocoa solids in it.

  Jess handed me a blue mug with a big smiley sun on the side. Tea. Real tea, very, very strong and very milky. If I drank real tea, I drank it so strong it could tarmac roads. I suppose this was a real emergency. I was still shaking from my epic cry and Jess held onto the cup a fraction longer so I wouldn’t drop it.

  ‘It’s only a theory, love,’ Jess said, freeing another white stick from its packet. ‘It’s not the gospel. What do I know about biology and chemistry and physics and philosophy?’ She put a flame to the cigarette, breathed life into it. ‘All right, I know about philosophy because I teach the philosophy of psychology, and I know a bit about biology and pheromones, but what do I know about the rest of it? I mean, come on, what do I really know?’

  She was only the cleverest person I knew. Which was why I’d turned to her in the first place. ‘But you believe it, don’t you?’ I asked her, sniffling back the sobs.

  Jess took two long drags on her cigarette, exhaled them just as lengthily. Then she sighed even more lengthily. ‘Wish I’d never opened my mouth now,’ she said.

  ‘Just tell me the truth, you’ve never lied to me before, so tell me the truth now. You believe I’m some kind of modern-day Cupid, don’t you? And I leave, what was it you called it, The Cupid Effect, wherever I go. You believe that, don’t you?’ I’d banished the whiny, crying sound from my voice by then, which was good cos it was starting to piss even me off. ‘Don’t you?’

  Jess reluctantly looked at me, her eyes searching my face for some kind of semblance of sanity, or ability to deal with her revelations. She sighed again, obviously finding no such sign of sanity. Not surprising since I felt so on the edge I might lose my grip and fall deep into the pit of insanity. ‘Yes sweetie.’

  I sagged in my seat, took a sip of the tea. Jess had put sugar in the tea. Good for shock, I guess. I wanted to cry again. This couldn’t really be happening. And if it could be happening, then why did it have to be happening to me?

  ‘I don’t want to be Cupid,’ I said again.

  ‘It’s not that bad, is it?’ Jess said, stretching out on the sofa. ‘Being responsible for people finding their heart’s desire, for people falling in love, and for people having sex. That’s nice. That’s good. Most people depart the earth without ever committing one act of public servitude; you get to do loads.’

  True. But . . .

  ‘What about me?’ I hit my chest. ‘I want my heart’s desire and love and . . . and sex! What about me? When do I get all that?’

  I sounded selfish. Possibly, maybe, because I was feeling incredibly selfish. Charity begins at home, and so do expectations of love and affection. Jess pulled a slight, ‘hard luck’ face. Not a full one, not even a quarter one, just a fraction, a hint of a grim smile, eyes slightly sad.

  When do I get all that? Never, clearly.

  ‘And anyway, why do I have to be Cupid? How come I don’t get to be Venus or Aphrodite?’

  Jess looked guiltily into her tea, smoking as though her life depended on it.

  ‘Really, I want to know.’

  ‘Because,’ Jess began, ‘because . . . people fell in love with Venus and worshipped her . . .’

  ‘But no one noticed the little fat git with wings. He just went about disrupting stuff and being unnoticed.’

  ‘Yooouuuuu, could put it like that.’

  I felt my bottom lip go again.

  ‘Put it like this, at least you’ll never be short of a wedding invite or two.’

  ‘Does this mean I’m going to be disrupting lives and not getting proper love for the rest of my life?’

  ‘To be honest, Ceri, I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers. I spent a lot of time on the Internet and in books pulling together what I have told you. The original Cupid did find love, but he loved her from afar for years and then he lost her. It could be different for you. Like I said, I don’t know. But it’s been like this for at least ten years, I suspect it’ll be like that for ages. I think, sweetheart, you’ve got into a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy situation, no matter how hard you try, you do it anyway.’

  ‘I don’t mean to.’

  ‘I know, that’s the irony. You don’t mean to, but you can’t help it. It’s your nature. I mean, didn’t people used to call you Auntie Ceri when you were in college? I seem to remember you always being surrounded by people who had problems. You could walk into any room anywhere and within five minutes you’ll be talking to the person in the room with the biggest problem or biggest dilemma. You don’t mean to do it, you just do it. Something in you draws out that kind of honesty. And it encourages people to, for better or worse, follow their heart. That’s who you are, it’s what being modern-day Cupid is all about.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I get the idea.’

  ‘Look, somebody’s got to do it. I’m sure there’s been someone like you for ages. Hey, you could be like Buffy, you know, into every generation, a Cupid is born. She will be the disruptive one.’

  I glared at Je
ss. ‘Oh yes, ha, ha, let’s all laugh at the funny Ceri who’s going to be alone for the rest of her life, shall we. Ha ha. Excuse me while I hold my sides to stop them from splitting at how amusing all this is.’

  She hung her head. ‘All right, what I was going to say was, somebody’s got to do it, my only bit of advice is to go with it.’

  ‘Yeah, course you’d say “go with it”. It’s all right for you, Mrs Married With Gorgeous Children, I’m the one who gets to, well, not. I’m the one looking at the next forty or fifty years of my life alone. Course you’re going to sit there and suggest “going with it”.’ I put down the tea on the floor by the armchair. I had to get out of there before I started laying into Jess for only telling me what I didn’t want to hear. I got up, grabbed my bag and my jacket. ‘I need to go for a walk, think things through.’

  ‘All right, love.’

  I spun around, my whole body aflame with anger. ‘Don’t. Call. Me. That.’

  chapter thirty-one

  Cursed

  So, this is it, is it?

  This is my talent. My purpose in life. I am here to make other people fall in love, have sex, find their heart’s desire. But not me. I don’t get any of it.

  I sat in Burley Park, on a bench in the middle of the park. The grey concrete path wound around me. The emerald blanket of grass rose and fell in tiny hills and odd-shaped mounds.

  I was hunched over, my shoulders tense, my hands pushed deep into my suede jacket pockets. Another few minutes and the jacket would be ruined beyond repair. It wasn’t raining, it was pouring. The main reason for me being hunched up. As if that was some protection from the weather. It was merely a physical reflex, though, the rest of me didn’t care if I drowned in rain.

  I’d sat there for about forever since I’d left Jess’s house. Water drizzled down my face, down my neck and inside my clothes, while frizzing my hair.