The second phone-call was from Alice. She didn’t get past saying, ‘Hello.’ If she hadn’t the nerve to knock on my door, then I wouldn’t tolerate her on the phone. The third call was from the job. It was the union shop steward informing me that Gerard Shannon was issuing me with a written warning. A second one, and I was sure to be suspended without pay. I hardly batted an eyelid. I didn’t care if I never worked again.
I tried to busy myself fixing up the flat. I gathered the debris and broken items and placed them all in a big black sack. I managed to fix the table by sticking the legs together with masking tape. It looked ridiculous but it had to do. I warded off the nagging voice that asked: What happened? Don’t think about it, I told myself. It will go away if I don’t think about it. I attended to David’s needs. The bare essentials. He didn’t seem to give a shit whether I was there or not. The feeling was mutual. I went through the motions, I was on autopilot. Days turned into nights, nights turned into days. I had no sense of time any more, what day it was, what week it was. I was living in a suspended time capsule, where nothing could be measured in terms of reality. A fog had descended and dulled my senses. I was very contented with that. Sooner or later, someone had to come and get me, didn’t they?
Nearly two weeks after the big confrontation, my phone rang again. 1 answered it in my perfected helpless victim voice. It was Matt Howard.
‘Jack? Is that you?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ I said pitifully.
‘Where have you been? There’s only two sessions of the course left,’ he said, genuine concern in his voice.
‘I don’t care about the course, Matt.’ I really didn’t care about anything. It was the truth.
‘What’s wrong, Jack? You were doing so well.’
Was I? Was l really?
‘Let me come over and talk to you.’
Oh God. Don’t do that. I won’t be responsible for my actions.
‘I don’t think that would be a good idea.’ Please come over. I would love nothing more.
‘Look, I’m worried about you. I promise I won’t try to persuade you to come back to the course or anything. Just let me come over and sit with you for a while. C’mon, what do you say?’
‘OK,’ I said finally. I gave him the address. I was disappointed to learn I had missed a session. It all seemed so hazy, like something I had participated in years ago. All I wanted was to end my confusion, put a stop to my restlessness. I wanted my friends back, but I wasn’t going to degrade myself any further. Matt’s phone-call was like a shining beacon in a stormy sea. I got myself ready. I was cheeky enough to shave my legs. Then I shaved my bikini line. Just in case. Then I shaved under my arms. What was I thinking of? I was deliberately setting out to seduce him. He was in Rome now. He would have to do as the Romans did. I had watched I Claudius. I was no fool.
Around 9pm Matt arrived at the door looking stupendous. I was startled at his fresh complexion and jovial mood as he stepped inside. I offered him a drink, which I knew he would refuse.
‘No, thanks,’ he said, almost revelling in the opportunity to say no.
I poured myself a large vodka and coloured it with orange.
‘Thanks for letting me come over,’ he started.
‘I’m OK. As you can see.’ I gave him my best smile ever.
He was looking around him and rubbing his chin. ‘What happened here? A hurricane?’ He was pointing to the broken table.
I was hoping the expensive make-up was adequately covering my burning cheeks. ‘Oh that!’ I exclaimed, overdoing it a little. ‘It was David! You know yourself, they break everything!’
He smiled. ‘He did a good job all the same. A hammer couldn’t have done it better.’
I detected a slight grain of sarcasm. ‘Well, it’s had a few accidents actually.’ I tried to cover up. I was searching desperately for some decent music to play. The best CDs had been destroyed. I pushed the on-going question to the back of my mind, the question that kept waking me up in the middle of the night. The same question that remained unanswered. What had happened that night after the gang had left? It gnawed at me like a caged hamster. Most of it was blacked out. I just couldn’t remember what I had done or said after they had left.
‘What are you thinking?’ Matt interrupted my thoughts.
‘Oh nothing, it’s nothing.’ I waved my hand. I eventually had to settle for Dean Martin. I put the CD in and turned it on. It sounded stupid. It was a Christmas present that Mam had given me last year. This was probably its debut performance.
‘Since when did you like Dean Martin?’ Matt asked in disbelief.
‘I’ve found that when I’m writing for the course, or painting you know, that I like this kind of background music,’ I lied through my teeth. He seemed to buy it. I sat down beside him and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Well, have I missed anything interesting on the course?’
‘Yes. Actually, last week’s session was very interesting. Poor Bertie got another going-over — it was from Frank this time.’
‘He needs it. Every bit of it.’ I sounded like a professionally trained counsellor. ‘A Fixer, if ever I laid eyes on one. Fair fucks to Frank. God, he’s really doing well, isn’t he?’
‘He certainly is. It’s amazing to see how fast he is coming on.’ Matt sipped his orange. I lowered my drink in one gulp.
‘Matt, when we were in the coffee shop that time, and Margaret walked in, do you remember?’
‘Yes. I remember.’ He gave me a dazzling smile.
I found it hard to stop myself from diving on him there and then, but thought, Wait for it, girl. Mohammed has come to the mountain. He is in my home, on my territory. There is no need to rush. I have waited so long for this moment. I am going to enjoy every single bit of it.
I sidled up beside him on the floor. He was sitting on the couch, his legs slightly apart. I casually laid my elbow on his knee.
‘For so long I’ve wanted to tell you how I felt all those years ago when we were down on the beach.’
‘Now’s your chance,’ he said, lifting his hand to push my hair behind my ear. My whole face tingled with his soft touch.
‘You know, I was expecting something different,’ I told him.
He smiled knowingly. ‘So did I. God, what a pair of idiots! We really didn’t know what we were doing, did we?’
I laughed. ‘Well, you were the man. I expected you to know everything.’
We were both laughing. I was loving every single second of it. I wanted it to last for ever and ever. I wanted another drink, too, but no way was I going to ruin this opportunity. We were very close now. A few inches were all that separated us.
‘You know, I’m very grateful to you, Jack. It was you who taught me to face up to what I really am.’
I was flattered to say the least. ‘I did?’ I looked up into his eyes. His lips were inviting me, wide and beautiful. I wanted so much to just reach up and kiss him gently.
‘Yes,’ he whispered into my ear. ‘If it wasn’t for you, and that whole experience down on the beach, I would probably have been another ten years finding out the truth.’
He’s in love with me. I knew it! He has always been in love with me!
‘Go on,’ I urged him, placing my hand on his.
‘I tried so hard to hide it, to pretend, always hoping it would go away. I dated so many other women. How naive of me! Looking back now, it was so obvious. I had always been gay.’
Excuse me? I stared at him. ‘What?’
‘Jack! Don’t tell me you didn’t know I’m gay!’
I was paralysed from the neck down. ‘Jesus Christ almighty,’ was all I could manage.
Matt reached out to me and put his arms around me. I was frozen solid with shock.
‘But… but… you’re married!’
‘Lots of gay people are married.’
‘You have children.’
‘Lots of gay people have children.’
&nbs
p; ‘They do?’ I asked innocently.
‘Margaret and I decided very early on that we would stay together for the sake of the children.’
I kept staring at him. ‘Matt, don’t you know that I have spent the best part of my life in love with you?’
‘You only think you are in love with me. You are in love with a memory, that’s all, Jack. You are in love with being in love.’
‘You led me on, Matt. You must have known!’ I was starting to cry now.
‘Jack, I swear I thought you knew. Everybody knows I’m gay!’
‘You mean, everybody except me,’ I sobbed. Then I remembered Joe’s cautioning. He had known all along. He had tried to protect me after all.
Ah Christ.
‘I can’t handle this,’ I said, grappling with the couch to get up off the floor. ‘I can’t handle this, I fucking can’t!’ I ran into the kitchen and took the bottle of vodka. My hand shook. I poured some into a glass, spilling most of it on to the table.
Matt appeared at the door. ‘It’s not the end of the world,’ he said gently.
I stared at him like he was a total stranger. Who was this guy? I didn’t know him? He wasn’t my Matt. Surely, any minute now he was going to burst out laughing and the joke would be on me. Yes, any minute now he’s going to tell me that he’s back on drugs and he was hallucinating.
He tried to touch me and I pulled away.
‘I haven’t got Aids, just in case that’s what you’re thinking,’ he said rather coldly.
‘Oh Matt, I can’t believe it, you of all people. I can’t accept it.’ He came over to me and put his arms around me. This time I gave in. I had no strength to resist him. I felt I had lost them all — all my friends, my family, and now the greatest love of my life. I had lost Matt. He held me there for an age. Every now and then I peered up into his face, still not wanting to believe it. Matt was gay. Matt was gay. I had always thought of gay men as poncy feminine cross-dressers who talked in funny voices and walked peculiarly. Matt was nothing like that. He was a big strong masculine type. Ruggedly handsome, bursting with testosterone! I would never have guessed in a million years that he was gay.
I could hardly bring myself to look at him. I felt like such an idiot. My portfolio in stupidity was complete. I was the greatest gobshite on earth. Who else knew? Jill? Karen? Why didn’t they tell me if they knew! The bastards! And Joe — why did you leave me to find out like this? Did you do it deliberately? Did you want to teach me a lesson?
‘What about Margaret?’ I asked him finally. My head was crammed with questions. New ones were popping in every second.
‘Margaret and I have been together for eleven years. She knew almost from the beginning. We did everything we could. You know, for years I tried so hard to be straight. I went to counselling with her. For her sake, for the kids’ sake. We have an understanding now. We live in the same house, but she has her own life. We’re the best of friends. She’s also a great mother. I was very, very lucky.’
I thought about Margaret, all the rotten things I had said about her. She must have had a really hard time of it. Now I realised what she had sacrificed in her own life, for the sake of her children. I also realised that I lacked that kind of vocation towards David. I sank lower and lower as I thought about it.
It was beyond self-hatred. I loved him so much, but something was stopping that love from taking its natural course. My anger kept getting in the way. Why did I hate everyone that I loved? It didn’t make sense. I knew somewhere deep inside that it wasn’t true. My anger was only a momentary thing. The remorse and regret for hating everybody made me feel so ashamed of myself. I was a bad person. A bad mother. A bad friend. I am bad. I am bad. I am bad.
‘What did you mean when you said that I helped you?’ I asked, confused.
‘That night, on the beach, I learned the truth. It always came back to haunt me. You haunted me. You represented the truth,’ he said sadly. ‘I just couldn’t face it until I had gone down every avenue. Sadly, I hurt a lot of people through not accepting that truth.’
Matt was wonderful. He stayed with me until the early hours of the morning answering all my questions.
By the time he was getting ready to leave, I had changed my attitude towards him. I understood things a little bit better. There was only one more question that really needed to be answered.
‘Matt, why did you want me to do the course?’
‘Still haven’t figured it out, Jack? I care about you. Don’t you believe that?’
I nodded my head. Now I knew he had no ulterior motive. I just found it almost impossible to believe that anyone cared about me at all.
‘You will understand soon,’ he said, buttoning up his coat. ‘I know I said I wouldn’t do this, but I have to. I want you to promise me one thing.’
I already knew what he was going to ask me.
‘Please, please, finish the course. You have come this far. Please? I ask you as a friend. I know you can’t see how it is helping you at the moment, but I swear, Jack, it will all make sense in the end.’
I promised. I hadn’t any reason not to believe him. Besides, he was the only friend I had left. And I had enjoyed the course. It had already helped me. It had brought a lot of unwanted pain, but an awareness too. I trusted that Matt was in my corner and I owed it to myself and him to see it through. What else could happen to me?
As I walked out on to the steps of the flat with him, the morning light was beginning to emerge. He walked to the bottom of the steps, and then turned abruptly.
‘You know, there is a man out there for you,’ he said quietly, and blew on his cold fingers. ‘It’s up to you now, Jack. Only you can make it happen.’
I knew who the man was. I had always known who the man was. It was too simple. Too uncomplicated. Too fucking easy. It had been right under my nose, but I couldn’t accept it. I was like Matt in many ways — disregarding the obvious. My feelings for Joe had always been strong: I had just never given them any credit. How convenient for me to decide I wanted him now, just because Matt had trusted me with his secrets and rejected me. You don’t deserve him. Who do you think you are? Think you can just change your mind? Just walk back and say, Here I am, I understand now? Can we get together? You’re bad! Bad!
It was too late. It was hopeless. I didn’t deserve him. And I could never tell him now. It would be weak and selfish. Besides, if Joe was with Jill, I couldn’t interfere. They would make an excellent couple. I had realised too late, that was all. I was the White Rabbit, complete with pocket watch and glasses. I’m late! I’m late! For a very important date!
He would never have me now.
I crawled into bed with Sam and cuddled him against my chest. I felt empty. So empty that my tears dried up and my mind was stilled. A strange silence came over me. My mind had become a complete blank. I couldn’t think of anyone who had made a worse mess of their lives than me. I had had so many wires crossed; I had electrocuted my very soul.
I no longer knew who I was. It was the first time in twenty years that suicide seemed optional, but I didn’t have the energy or the will to carry it through.
I lay there praying that God would take me. It seemed like the most logical solution. Everybody would be much better off if I wasn’t here.
I fell asleep and dreamt of a little girl. She had a freckled face and her eyes crinkled up when she smiled. She was playing in the middle of a field and calling me to join her. On closer inspection the little girl began to change. Her smile was wilting and being replaced by a sad expression. Then she began to cry, but no noise came out of her mouth. The closer I got to her, the more she deteriorated. Her clothes became tatty and ragged. Her face became dirty and her hair was matted and uncombed. She was shrinking before my very eyes, growing smaller and smaller, until she vanished into an insignificant dot. I woke up screaming and flailing my arms about the place. My night-dress was drenched in sweat.
I went into David’s room and sa
t on the edge of the bed watching his chest rise and fall as he slept. How many times had I sat here before? The only time we seemed to get on well was when he was asleep. I was able to communicate my feelings to him then. I was able to kiss him, touch him, hold him and talk to him — when he was unconscious! I realised what a terrible mother I had become. What was my excuse? What use was I, sitting on the edge of his bed, proclaiming my devotion while he snored? How incredibly convenient for me to choose the middle of the night to share my love with him.
What about the daytime, Jack? Why don’t you attend to his emotional needs? Why don’t you spend happy times with him? Why do you have to sit here every night feeling sorry for yourself? He is none the wiser.
I let the voice speak. I let it fill my head, which was at long last empty. The screaming monkeys had all left, and there was an enormous void. I allowed the new voice ample room, not really caring what it said, or what it meant. I simply let it be. I was no longer at war with anyone, anything, or any place in the past, present or future. I was silently resigned to not knowing anything.
I understood that I didn’t know.
I was standing in the eye of the storm. A place so tranquil and peaceful, I wanted to stay there for ever. Sitting on the edge of the bed, my life drifted before me like a streaky black and white movie. I was no longer in it. I was watching. A spectator, viewing from the sidelines. I had disconnected, come out of myself. I saw the girl in my dream, the torn tatty child, neglected, rejected and lost, and realised, with terror, that it was me. I was the little girl in the dream.
Sleep overcame me eventually. When I woke up the numbness was still there. I was grateful for it. No rage. No fight. No will. I went about the day quietly, allowing my thoughts to come and go freely. It amazed me. The more I let go, the calmer I became. The calmer I became, the more I learned.
I had given myself permission to be wrong. To be so wrong about everything that it was almost humorous. With it came a tremendous sense of relief, a softness I hadn’t felt before.
The House that Jack Built Page 23