chapter 11 part 4

Jenny gave a shrug of her shoulders in resignation and said: ‘Alright then. Have it your way,’ before kicking Barry squarely in the testicles. And so it was, Barry and Jenny walked and talked for hours about everything and anything, failing to notice that they were strolling through one of the most beautiful cities in the world (this was of course after Barry had recovered from being kicked in the testicles). They were so deeply engaged in conversation that they could easily have sauntered through the area where Barry lived with its higgledy-piggledy arrangement of burnt-out cars and invasive gun shots, yet not notice anything amiss outside their own little bubble. The topics they discussed were light hearted and fun, up until Barry mentioned how pleased he was that Jenny had beaten Mr Perry because of the man’s five-star dickhead quality. ‘You liked him at first, what changed your opinion so drastically?’ Barry decided to admit what he had overheard in the toilet. ‘It took that for you that to realise he was a sod?’ At a loss for what to say, Barry instead puffed his cheeks up with air, shrugged his shoulders, blew the air outwards from his cheeks, looked at his feet, then finally back at his friend. Jenny’s magnified eyes surveyed Barry with great interest, which made him feel uncomfortable since Barry knew in his heart that this time there was nowhere to take a leak. ‘You’re not accustomed to interacting with people are you? I could tell you were so lonely the first time I saw you in the station. Then when you made what to you was an innocent comment about my eyesight, I could just tell that people were completely alien to you.’
192 Barry again said nothing. He felt like Jenny’s eyes and words were x-raying him, dissecting his abnormal brain. ‘And the first time you looked at me it was in total surprise wasn’t it, as if no one had ever noticed you before?’ Barry’s head dropped in shame at the exposure of what he perceived to be terrible secrets. Jenny had to stoop to locate his eyes that were now looking fixedly at the floor. ‘It’s okay, that’s just who you are. You’re Finbar Broomfield, you can’t be anyone else.’ In the second round Barry was playing a man by the name of Ali Alzanki, while Jenny was against the only other woman in the tournament: Lisa Higgins. Things followed the same pattern as the first, although Mr Alzanki was more animated than Bird in his misery at Barry’s prodigious play. ‘Oooooh you’re evil. You can’t do that, that’s naughty.’ Barry attempted to shut out Alzanki’s effeminate voice, believing it a diversionary tactic to disperse his laser focus. Keeping his eyes locked to the board and hunching over as usual, he managed to dissolve the real world once more. ‘Checkmate.’ It had been another whitewash. Barry’s foes were being bowled out of the way like mere skittles by his near-limitless skill. Pulling his mind with some reluctance from its absorption in the game back to the intrusive noise, lurid colour and random movement of reality, Barry could hardly believe how easy his victories were being realised.
193 Jenny meanwhile was again battling tooth and nail in another closely fought contest. She appeared very fatigued, but upon seeing Barry her spirits were raised and she mustered a meek smile. Bringing back a recent memory, Barry recalled the first time he’d met this woman, remembering it had been him who’d felt weak that time. He watched her closely, admiring her steely resolve, and even though it was silly, he felt guilty about the smooth passage he’d experienced so far through the tournament. Apparently he’d forgotten it was him who’d had his back against the wall at the regionals before pulling through like a monkey dancing on hot coals. Come on, you
can do it Jenny. Jenny did. It took her five hours of deep and exhausting thought that left her with a headache, but she did it. The rest of the tournament followed on in much the same way as the first two rounds, Barry cruising past his opponents, and Jenny valiantly busting a gut to get past hers. Eventually they achieved what neither of them had even dared to consider: they had both made it to the final. When Jenny beat her rival in the semi she was overjoyed, exhausted, and saddened. The feeling of sadness was a product of her knowing she’d have to play her friend the following day in a battle to the death. Barry consoled Jenny as he always did. ‘Hey chin up, you did well to get this far. You’ll come back stronger from this setback. Turn that frown upside down.’ ‘What’s wrong with you? Have you got brain damage? I won you fucking idiot!’ said Jenny.
194 Barry congratulated Jenny as he always did. ‘That was touch and go, but I never lost the faith. You’re the best—you’re the best—you’re the best.’ ‘You won as well didn’t you?’ she asked, already knowing the answer. ‘Yeah…’ ‘Then that means we’ll be playing each other for the fifty grand.’ ‘It does. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still be mates. Whatever happens this has been a great time for me.’ The two finalists decided against going out to celebrate: Barry was still refusing to let Jenny pay for him, and she was too exhausted to go on another long walk around London’s streets. They opted instead to celebrate at the English Chess Association’s expense. The Empire Hotel’s staff laid out a sumptuous meal for the two chess stars while they happily revelled in each other’s company. To an outsider watching these two people, a man and a woman enjoy a candlelit meal together, that outsider might come to the palpable conclusion that they were witnessing a relationship that went beyond just platonic friendship. Late that night a very much awake Jenny reclined in her lavish hotel room; only a few metres away from her lay Barry, sleeping soundly after the meal he’d shared with her. Jenny could hear Barry’s snores and she knew he was sleeping like a baby. She also knew that he couldn’t possibly sleep as soundly back at his flat on the inflatable lilo in Junkieville. Incidentally, this revelation regarding Barry’s sleeping arrangements had been made known to her after Barry had become heavily intoxicated following the ingestion of a couple of liqueur chocolates earlier that night.
195 Lying there perfectly still, she resolved she couldn’t go through with it. Even though she’d played her heart out to make it to the final, she couldn’t take away Barry’s one solitary chance of financial relief. She was aware he needed that money more than she ever would, but there was more to it than just the crude matter of the cash prize: she had fallen in love.