Алекс Баркли - I Confess

‘I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being single,’ said Clare, ‘but when you’re married as long as I am, the idea of dating is terrifying. It sounds to me like everyone just shows up with a giant carpet bag of life experiences, empties it out all over the table, and points out the crappiest bits.’

‘Are you mad?’ said Laura. ‘I left that big bag in my wardrobe when I met Frank. In with all the skeletons. Then I sold the wardrobe on Done Deal and bought a white dress with the proceeds.’

‘But do you ever wonder why some fuckers get married?’ said Murph. ‘Like, do they just pick the same road they’ve seen everyone else go down, and they’re halfway along it, and they realize they’ve lost sight of everyone else up ahead, and that, actually, they could never really see the bits further along the road, and suddenly they go, “Fuck”. And, at this stage, they’re holding someone’s hand on one side, and they look down at the other hand, and there are a couple of smallies hanging off that. And now... now they’re responsible for a whole pile of other lives. And they’re not trapped... but they’re not free. They can’t go back, though — they can never go back. All they can do is walk on with whoever’s holding their hands or they can go on away ahead on their own. Or do they listen out for the echo of someone else’s “Fuuuuck”, and leg it up to them, and see what their story is.’

Everyone looked at him. He looked into his glass. ‘What IS this shit?’

Laura laughed. ‘Did you ever think... some fuckers get married because they fall in love? And they stay in love? And that love... is a beautiful thing?’

‘Are you messing with me?’ said Murph. ‘Was that all just bits of an Ed Sheeran song?’ He turned to Helen. ‘What about you?’

‘Oh, they’re lining up at the door,’ said Helen.

‘And rightly so,’ said Murph.

Laura put her empty glass down. ‘No one warns you about the kids thing, though.’ She eyeballed Murph and Patrick. ‘Don’t do it, lads. Don’t have kids.’

Murph looked at her. ‘What — did you think I was about to run into town for one?’

‘I’m serious,’ said Laura. ‘You need to know this. While I have you. I love my babies, they’re mental, and I love them to bits, and don’t get me wrong — I wouldn’t be without them, but... no one tells you. No one who’s had kids is going to tell you it was a massive mistake because it’s so awful. I love them, I do. But I sat down one day, and I realized: I’m never going to South America again—’

‘That’s rather specific,’ said Clare.

‘It’s never going to happen,’ said Laura. ‘I know it won’t. I loved it. I loved everywhere I went. And I’ll never see any of those places again—’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ said Clare.

‘It’s not,’ said Laura. ‘Every penny goes on the kids.’ She paused. ‘Unless... has anyone spotted a slippy tile or a lump somewhere in the carpet? I could trip, crack my head open and sue the shit out of Johnny and Edie. Next stop — South America.’

‘You could be a mule,’ said Murph. ‘All expenses paid.’

‘Seriously — this is my life,’ said Laura. ‘I make dinner, I feed the kids, I make their lunches for the next day, I feed Frank, I resent the whole lot of them, I fight with the kids at bedtime, and the minute they’re asleep, I feel so guilty that I want the kids back up again to hug them and say I’m sorry, so I fight with Frank instead. Then I prick around on Facebook ’til two in the morning, then I give out to myself, go to sleep, get up, and do the same shite all over again. And at the weekend — more of the shite, less of the pricking around on Facebook. Like, I’m not a prison officer at all if you think about it. I’m actually a prisoner — at work, at home. And in between, I’m a prisoner in a Nissan Micra.’ She paused. ‘I’m looking at those photos of us, and our little faces, and it’s just... sad. It’s making me sad.’

‘Oh, God,’ said Murph. ‘Is it Tears O’Clock already?’

Edie and Clare exchanged glances. Clare glanced down at Laura’s glass.

‘What?’ said Laura, looking at her. ‘What was that face in aid of?’

‘What face?’ said Clare.

‘That was judge face,’ said Laura.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Clare.

‘At least you get paid to judge now,’ said Laura. ‘The rest of us have to do it for free.’ She turned to Helen. ‘You must get judged a lot these days.’

Johnny and Murph gave shocked laughs. Patrick held his breath. Clare shook her head at the Prosecco bottle Edie was holding.

Helen laughed. ‘Thank you, Laura! Thank you! I do!’

‘It must be a pain in the hole,’ said Laura.

‘It is!’ said Helen. ‘People see the wheelchair and it’s like they make up their mind about something — it could be anything — I can see it happening and I’m thinking: What’s going on this time?’

‘Like... what?’ said Murph. ‘They don’t start talk... ing... slow... ly... to... you... do they?’

She laughed. ‘They do! Or they’re afraid to talk to me in case I’m mentally impaired and I’ll suddenly start flapping about the place and they’re mortified. Or the pity eyes.’ She held up her hands. ‘And I do get it — it’s not like I’m going around waiting to be offended. I just want to have the chats, half the time. Unless I’m exhausted or I’ve a headache or...’ She shrugged. ‘It’s the same as anyone.’

‘Well, I’m definitely going to have a headache in the morning,’ said Laura. ‘And I’m definitely going to have trouble walking later. So I’ll know exactly how you feel.’

Everyone laughed.

‘OK,’ said Edie, standing up. ‘Can we raise our glasses to the kindest, most caring woman I know—’

‘All of us know,’ said Murph.

Everyone stood up.

‘—who has been looking after us for as long as we can remember,’ said Edie, ‘who’s come to our rescue on so many occasions we’ve lost count, who’s done the same for every single patient who’s walked through the door of the hospital—’

‘Even Consofuckinlata,’ said Laura.

‘Who also,’ said Edie, ‘went above and beyond to help Johnny and Dylan and me settle back home...’ She paused, her hand to her chest. ‘Sorry — I’m getting emotional, now. But, Helen — seriously, I’ve no doubt I speak for all of us when I say you are the most selfless person we know. And it’s not just about what you do for us. It’s your warmth, and your smile, and that calming look in your eye that has this... effect. Like—’

‘Two Xanax,’ said Clare.

‘I couldn’t have said it better myself,’ said Edie. ‘So... to Helen!’

‘To Helen!’

Helen took a long sip of champagne. ‘I shouldn’t be drinking this—’

‘Get it in to you!’ said Murph.

‘Thank you, everyone,’ said Helen. ‘And thank you, Edie. You’re far too good.’

‘And while we’re here,’ said Edie. ‘Another announcement. Thanks to Helen’s design input, the inn has been awarded a five-star rating from a UK website that rates hotels on wheelchair-friendliness.’

Helen’s eyes were wide.

‘Look at her — stunned,’ said Murph. ‘Fair fucking play.’

‘So, on a selfish level,’ said Edie, ‘thank you for giving me one of my proudest moments.’

‘I loved doing it,’ said Helen. ‘I should be thanking you.’

‘Ah, lads, you’re making me puke, now,’ said Laura. ‘What have I ever done for anyone?’

‘Do you want me to answer that?’ said Murph.

‘Murph!’ said Edie.

‘What?’ said Murph. ‘I’m saying credit where credit’s due.’

‘Seriously, though,’ said Laura, turning to Helen. ‘Fair play. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for anyone.’