Fionnuala Kearney - You, Me and Other People

‘You need to eat something healthy,’ she says as she pours champagne. The irony is lost and we munch, talk and drink, or at least she munches and I talk and drink. Occasionally, she just shakes her head. I tell her about this morning’s session with Dr Gothenburg.

‘Well?’ she says, creasing her brow, ‘What are you afraid of?’

I hesitate, but just for a moment, before the tears fall. ‘I’m constantly afraid.’

She pushes the already empty glasses aside and reaches for my hand. ‘Go on.’

‘Being alone … taking him back and not trusting him; something happening to Meg; being with someone else … I’m not sure I could.’

‘Pah,’ she splutters, as she stands up and heads towards the sink. ‘If it comes to that,’ she shakes the kettle then flicks the switch, ‘believe me – a cock is a cock is a cock.’

I shudder and she laughs.

‘The devil, witches and aliens,’ I continue, counting out my fears on my fingers.

‘Be serious.’

‘I am, Karen, I really am.’

Her bottom lip protrudes. ‘I see.’

‘Losing it someday.’ I raise my eyebrows.

‘Losing what?’

‘My temper … control … I feel if I show the world how angry I actually am, that I’d be locked up and the key thrown away.’

‘I’ll buy you a punchbag. Next?’

‘I worry about Meg, what this is going to do to her. She worships her father.’

‘Meg will be fine. She’s young and strong and she’s got too much of you in her to let this defeat her.’

‘It won’t defeat her, but it might shape how she views men.’

‘Rubbish.’

‘Getting cancer,’ I add. ‘What if pentapeptides are found to be carcinogenic? What if I like my alcohol too much? What if my father’s genes take over?’

‘And what if you’re overreacting?’

I ignore her. ‘Oh, and the dark and deep water and air travel and wait … I’ve apparently got an inner saboteur.’

Karen’s quiet. She hovers by the boiled kettle, deep in thought, so I get up, usher her back to her stool and make two mugs of steaming Earl Grey.

Her hands straddle her cup. ‘I saw him last week.’

‘You did?’ The mood in the room shifts.

‘He owed me money and I went to collect a cheque. He looks like shit.’

‘Yeah well, he’s screwing some waitress. He deserves to look like shit.’ I take a seat opposite her.

‘She’s not a waitress. He told me that she part-owns the restaurant.’

‘She does? Well, I couldn’t give a shit if she whole-owns the restaurant. I don’t give a rat’s arse if she whole-owns a chain of restaurants. She’s a husband-stealing bitch.’

Karen laughs.

‘Did he ask about me?’ I’m not sure why I want to know. I just do.

‘Of course. He wants to know if I’ll speak to you on his behalf. I told him to go screw himself. Smug bastard … Enough about him!’ She suddenly slaps a hand on the breakfast bar and I flinch. ‘What about if I come down next weekend?’ she says. ‘We could have a takeaway and sleepover, maybe go out to a wine bar. I’m not sure you’re ready yet, but maybe if you pulled someone, you know, just a snog—’

I groan out loud and lay my head in my hands.

‘I was talking a quick snog, not a frigging wedding.’

‘You know what? I’m bored. Let’s talk about your love life.’

‘Hmmm …’ Karen replies. ‘Nothing new to report except a decision.’

I raise my head and my eyebrows.

‘I’ve decided,’ she continues, ‘that I need an older man. A solvent, older, mature, loving man.’

I smile. ‘Good decision. You do know that means a man in his forties.’

Karen sticks her tongue out, ignoring my jibe about the fact that she’s forty this year.

‘Anyhow, now you and I can go on the pull together.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’ I cannot imagine anything worse in the world right now.

‘Never say never.’

‘I’m saying never.’

‘Really?’ She pours me another glass, ignores her own. ‘C’mon, Beth, feel the fear and do it anyway! Never is an awfully long time. Take it from me. You’ll need a snog. And soon.’ She adds the last two words as if my very life will depend on me swapping saliva. Soon.

I shudder visibly, catch her eye and we both hoot.

Painful belly laughs later, somehow we’re back to discussing more of my inner fears when she glances at her watch and makes a face. ‘Sorry, I’ve really got to go.’ She comes to hug me.

‘Relying on my “rampant rabbit” for sex?’ I offer as a parting shot.

She puts her coat on in the hall. ‘Sounds like my life. Be afraid,’ she says gravely, ‘be very afraid …’ And just as I think she’s out of the door, she stops, narrows her eyes and points to the wall with a questioning tilt of her head.

‘Oh, yeah.’ I raise my eyebrows. ‘That. I’m redecorating. What do you think of the colour?’

She reads the words, a hint of a smile appearing on her full lips.

‘The colour’s bloody awful,’ she says finally. ‘And is “dastard” a real word?’

Later that day, when I’m upstairs working in the loft, my stomach flips when I check my emails.

-----Original Message-----

From: ahall@hall&fryuk.net

Sent: 23 September 2014 15:37 PM

To: bhall@intranethalluk.net

Subject: You (and me)

Hi,

I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear from now but I really feel the need to talk to you. I hope you’re okay. I’m okay. I’m thinking of you. I miss you. A x

Stomach still playing leapfrog, I type my reply.

-----Original Message-----

From: bhall@intranethalluk.net

Sent: 23 September 2014 15:45 PM

To: ahall@hall&fryuk.net

Subject: Your mail

I am SO fed up with your needs. You needed to leave me to shag another woman. Now you need to talk to me. Miss me – you left me! What bloody planet are you on? And shove your ‘x’ directly up your ass. Beth.

Just as I press send, I hear the front door slam and my heart clenches. Shit. I creep to the door and listen. I’m not ready to see him. All sorts of thoughts skip through my head. Heart thumping, I remember I’ve changed the locks, but it’s only when I hear the footsteps on the stairs being taken two at a time and a telltale ‘Mum?’ that I realize I’ve been holding my breath. I’m sitting down, pressing that spot between my thumb and forefinger, when Meg peers around the door.

‘There you are! Should have known! God, Mum, open a window!’ She comes across the room and embraces me, then walks back to the first Velux, pushing it open.

‘How can you work? It’s like a coffin in here! Any food in? C’mon,’ she pulls my hand. ‘I’m famished.’

‘You’ll be lucky,’ I say, following her downstairs. ‘I was going to food-shop tonight.’ The lie slips easily off my tongue. ‘Why are you home anyway? I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.’

Meg turns on the stairway and stares at me with Adam’s eyes.

‘Look at you. I guess I just knew,’ is her explanation.

‘What?’ I’m a bit miffed because, midnight OCD episodes aside, I feel I’m doing pretty well. I tug self-consciously at my worn-out tracksuit, run a hand through my limp hair.

‘Tell you what.’ She nods towards my art text box. ‘Give me time to have a shower and freshen up, then take me to Guido’s for supper and I won’t mention how you’re generally behaving weirdly.’

‘Deal,’ I say, suddenly very grateful that she’s there.

‘I miss him,’ she confesses later over her gnocchi.

‘Sweetheart, it’s me he’s stopped loving, not you.’

The eyes look at me again. ‘Mum, Dad will never stop loving you. It’s just that he loves himself more.’