The Second Life of Nathan Jones

by David Atkinson

‘Janice, she’s crying again.’

  Some things never changed. The concerned but distracted face of my mum appeared inside the door.

  ‘She’s awake. You never told me she’d woken up.’

  ‘Just this minute, Janice, and now she’s crying.’

  ‘Why did you upset her?’

  My dad raised his hands in a defensive gesture. ‘Nothing to do with me, she just started.’

  He backed away from my bed as if tears were infectious and let my mum take his space.

  She took my hand in hers and couldn’t help herself checking to see if my nails were clean. ‘The doctors say you probably fell and banged your head, though they can’t find any marks or any injuries apart from on your feet. What were you thinking, going out without any shoes on? Have you been taking things?’

  I didn’t want to explain about Nathan. I wasn’t sure I could at that point, even if I wanted to, so instead I just said, ‘I got caught in the open in the storm and, well, I think I had a panic attack and started running. I don’t know what happened after that. I just freaked out.’

  There was a good sprinkling of truth in my explanation, so I probably came across as genuine. ‘That’s never happened to me before. I just kept running and running and then, well, the next thing I know I’m here.’

  My mum smiled, relieved that I’d not become a junkie. ‘A nice taxi driver, Tom Phillips, stopped and phoned for help, then phoned me. He works for Comiston Cheeky Cabs so I’m going to make sure I use them whenever I get a taxi. He could have just left you there, thinking you were homeless, or even taken advantage of you, so you’re lucky a gentleman found you. Oh, and that’s another thing, he used your phone. Why don’t you have a pass code on your phone? Any Tom, Dick or Harry could steal it and access all your things.’

  ‘Well, they didn’t, did they? And just as well.’

  ‘That’s not the point; you need to be more careful, Kat.’

  The last piece of advice I’d take in more ways than one. My parents, happy now that I hadn’t become a junkie and wasn’t about to die, spent the next ten minutes talking at cross purposes to each other and me, just like old times.

  ‘So, what do you think about llamas, Kat?’ my mum asked.

  ‘Well …’ I wracked my brain, trying to remember what my dad had said about them. ‘I think they hum …’

  ‘See,’ my mum said triumphantly. ‘I told you they’ll stink the place out, John.’

  ‘No, they don’t hum, they hum … Hmmm Hmmm.’ I tried to explain.

  My mum frowned at me as if I were daft. ‘Yes, well, you’ve had a nasty bang on the head.’

  ‘I’m thinking of getting another shed,’ my dad announced out of the blue.

  ‘What about the llamas?’ I asked.

  ‘They don’t have much use for sheds, but I can store their stuff in number two, you know, the one I had my easel and paints in.’

  ‘What stuff do llamas need?’

  ‘Food, oats, hay and things. Oh, and saddles; I’ll need to get saddles. You can ride them, you know.’

  I pressed my head back into my pillow and closed my eyes, trying to stop the tears from suppressed laughter as I pictured my dad perched on the back of a llama. He’d been horse riding maybe twice in his lifetime. My bed must be shaking but nobody noticed.

  ‘I think you might need planning permission, John,’ my mum contributed.

  ‘What, for riding a llama? No, I don’t think so, Janice, not in your own garden. I might need a licence if I take it out on the road, right enough.’

  I didn’t think I could take much more without exploding. ‘A llama licence,’ I spluttered, then felt two pairs of eyes on me.

  ‘I don’t think your daughter is taking your llama idea very seriously, John, and I meant planning permission for another shed, not for riding llamas,’ my mum said, smiling.

  ‘Well, she should take it seriously. If it goes well I might rent a field somewhere and expand the operation …’

  I felt my eyes closing, listening to them prattle on, and as I drifted down to sleep I heard my mum say, ‘Yes, okay, I’ll admit the Leg Spreader is quite tasty, but I still think you should take the picture off the handle. I mean, what would Kat say if she saw it?’

  ‘I already offered her some.’

  ‘John!’

  ‘What? It’s only beer …’

  *

  They let me home the next day. Strangely enough the same doctor came to see me that signed Nathan … sorry, Smacktard out. Perhaps he had the dubious honour of being the doctor of faints. He didn’t comment on our previous meeting and I assumed he’d forgotten all about me. It only occurred to me later that he probably didn’t recognise me with the blonde hair and lack of piercings.

  My mum wanted me to go home with her for a few days, but I decided that any convalescing I needed to do wouldn’t be helped with her buzzing around in the background polishing my toenails or whatever she decided needing doing.

  Back in the peace and solitude of my flat I tried to take stock of things. Nathan had made his bed, so he could lie in it with his wife. I needed to move on; I needed normality. My next shift at work loomed large tomorrow morning and I’d go in. I’d initially planned to take a few days off but somehow my mind had cleared, and I didn’t feel that mooching about on my own all day would do me any good. I felt the start of a cold coming on but, given my recent exposure to the elements, I’d count myself lucky if that was all I ended up with.

  Sid would be there tomorrow, and I’d like to get that sorted sooner rather than later too.

  I had beans on toast for dinner whilst watching the Notting Hill DVD. I waited for Julia Roberts to utter that annoying line and threw a bean at her. After that I switched it off and got ready for bed. I’d just finished cleaning my teeth and slipped into my fluffy ‘I’m feeling sorry for myself’ pyjamas when Hayley phoned.

  ‘Hi, how are you doing?’

  I’d already filled her in on my misadventures over the weekend and sent her a picture of myself as a blonde, which made me hang up after she couldn’t stop laughing. It wasn’t good for a girl’s confidence when her best friend laughed at her.

  ‘Yeah, I’m okay, just about to go to bed. Got an early start tomorrow.’

  ‘You’re going in?’

  ‘Yeah, thought I should. Get it over with.’

  ‘Sid will understand. After all, you said it was all his idea.’

  ‘Yeah, but it’s still weird after I … assaulted him, I guess.’

  ‘I’m sure he enjoyed it.’

  ‘I’m sure he didn’t.’

  ‘No word from … what did you call him? Smackhead?’

  ‘Smacktard, though I quite like Smackhead too.’

  ‘Where did you get that from?’

  ‘From an old computer game.’

  ‘Right, so you’re feeling okay, then?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m all right.’

  ‘I don’t have to drive over and tuck you in?’

  ‘No,’ I said, smiling. ‘I’m so tired I’d be asleep before you even got in your car, but thanks for the offer.’

  ‘I’m a little worried about you. It sounded like you had a breakdown.’

  ‘If I did it could only have been a tiny one.’

  ‘But even then—’

  ‘Hayley, I’m fine, just leave it. I just need some time to get myself back to normal.’

  ‘Back to Goth?’

  ‘Yeah, well, that’s normal for me.’

  ‘Your hair will fall out.’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘We should book a holiday.’

  ‘Should we?’

  ‘Yeah, just you and me, a girly week in the sun.’

  ‘What about James?’

  ‘He’s not a girly.’

  ‘Are you cool leaving him on his own for a week?’

  ‘Yeah, we’re not Siamese twins.’

  ‘Could’ve fooled me.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s been a bit intense. That’s why a holiday away
would be good for everyone, especially you. Somewhere hot where we can sit by the pool all day drinking and watching hot men with no clothes on.’

  ‘Are you ovulating?’

  ‘Probably, but seriously, let’s do it. I’ll look online later and see what’s available. We’ll need to avoid the school holidays as prices get too expensive, but that’s good. I don’t want a resort full of screaming brats anyway.’

  ‘One day you’ll have screaming brats of your own.’

  ‘Maybe, but they’ll be my brats so that’ll be all right, and they won’t scream. Until then, well, I’ll avoid them.’

  ‘How’s your couch, by the way?’

  ‘Smelling of bubble gum. It’s quite sickly. Your mum wouldn’t like it.’

  ‘I’ll tell her to avoid that cleaner, then.’

  ‘Kat?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I wish it’d worked out for you, I really do. You deserve someone lovely.’

  ‘I thought I loved Smacktard and look what happened.’

  ‘You ended up calling him Smacktard.’

  ‘I did, and I scared the Queen.’

  ‘You did what?’

  ‘I’ll tell you another time. I’m going to bed now.’

  Five minutes later my head hit the pillow and I fell into the arms of the sandman. He was quite dishy, but I didn’t shag him.

  *

  Next morning, I made sure I made it into work before Sid. I needed coffee and some prep time. I got a few comments (all positive) about my hair and general non-Gothness, but in the main I ignored them. Wired from three coffees, I intercepted Sid before he could get changed.

  He squinted at me before saying, ‘I prefer you dark.’

  ‘That’s good, I prefer me dark too.’

  ‘How did it go, then?’

  ‘Could have been better.’ I filled him in, including my ‘funny turn’.

  ‘You might have a tumour.’

  ‘I haven’t got a tumour.’

  ‘If you don’t get it treated, you might die, and it would go a long way to explaining your strange behaviour.’

  ‘What, since my tenth birthday? It’d have to be the slowest-growing tumour ever.’

  I watched him take a moment to consider that. ‘Fair enough, what happens now?’

  ‘Nothing happens now. I’m over him.’

  ‘You’re not.’

  ‘Okay, I’m not, but I will be. I just need some time.’

  ‘Fine, and in the meantime, you’ll keep your mind on what’s happening on the operating table?’

  ‘I will, and I don’t think it’s an operating table.’

  ‘I operate on it. I do operations.’

  ‘On dead people.’

  ‘I still operate. The fact that I’m not helping them get any better is beside the point.’

  ‘Okay.’

  The fact we were bantering like normal lifted a weight from my shoulders. I didn’t want my weekend of madness to ruin our friendship and, thankfully, most of the time Sid acted as if nothing had happened between us. I had a huge feeling of emptiness, as if something had been taken out of me. Sid seemed calm, relaxed, relieved maybe. I had to wonder about that. Perhaps he felt he’d had a narrow escape from me. I laughed; maybe he had. I could only wonder at the chaos and confusion I’d have brought into his nice ordered life.

  Chapter 34

  ‘Nathan, what’s wrong? You’ve been sitting about for the whole weekend with a face like a soggy fish finger.’

  ‘Breadcrumbs or battered?’

  ‘Either. What’s wrong with you? We’ve just moved into a lovely big house and I need you to help me do stuff.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Hang curtains, for a start – the second spare room has got nothing in the window and anyone can see in.’

  ‘There’s nothing in that room except boxes. Why does it matter?’

  ‘It matters to me. I don’t want the neighbours thinking we don’t have a pot to piss in.’

  ‘We’ve got three bathrooms, Laura, we don’t need a pot to piss in.’

  ‘That’s another thing – the bathroom on the top landing, I don’t like it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s got a funny smell.’

  ‘It’s probably just unused. A good clean will sort it out, I’m sure.’

  ‘I think we should change it. I don’t like the colour.’

  ‘It’s white.’

  ‘Yeah, but it’s the wrong kind of white.’

  ‘How …?’ Nathan gave up and put a cushion over his face.

  ‘I’m tempted to smother you with that.’

  ‘You won’t get the life insurance money if you murder me.’

  ‘I’ll say it was suicide.’

  ‘I don’t think you can smother yourself to death.’

  ‘Maybe you should give it a go and if you don’t succeed then the curtains for the spare room are over there on the table.’

  Laura pottered off to do some more unpacking. Nathan’s melancholy annoyed her. Everything she’d ever wanted had now come to fruition: a great job, lovely house – well, it would be lovely soon – and she had enough money coming in to do all the things she wanted.

  All that seemed to be lacking was Nathan. Well, the Nathan of old, although she had to remember she hadn’t liked the old Nathan for a long time either, but that had been more down to her, and her expectations of him, than him.

  She’d been sure when she’d got him back he’d forgive her all her transgressions, especially once she got him into bed, and for a while it had seemed to work, but now it felt as if he was missing something. The thought fleetingly entered her head that he might be pining after the punk, but she dismissed it. She had nothing to fear from that freak. What could that bitch possibly offer him that she couldn’t?

  Laura just wanted him to be pleased for her and to share her enthusiasm for their new life. The girls loved the new place, so that should have been enough for him to smile too. He’d seemed genuinely pleased when they’d sold their old flat and moved in, even though it had been her job and salary that had secured the mortgage. They’d even joked about that.

  ‘So, Nathan, how does it feel to be a kept man?’

  ‘Good, as long as I don’t have to clean the fridge.’

  ‘Oh, but being a kept man means that cleaning the fridge is your number one priority.’

  ‘Okay, I don’t want to be a kept man, then.’

  ‘Well, priority number two is keeping me satisfied in bed.’

  ‘I like that one.’

  ‘How about we make that number one and the fridge number two?’

  ‘I’d prefer the fridge to be back at number twenty-four.’

  ‘Okay.’

  He still worked from home with his advertising agency and even that had picked up recently, so she really didn’t understand what had made him so morose.

  They got the girls settled, except Millie, who wanted to finish a game on her iPad before going to sleep.

  Laura cracked open a bottle of wine and sat down with Nathan in their big front room and said, ‘Okay, Nathan, what’s wrong?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘That’s helpful.’

  ‘What do you want me to say, Laura?’

  ‘I want you to tell me why you’re unhappy.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Is it me? Is it the girls? Is it this place?’ She waved her hand in the air.

  ‘No, Laura, the house is lovely, but it’s your dream, your grand plan, not mine.’

  ‘What are your dreams, then?’

  ‘I don’t really have any.’

  ‘That’s stupid. Everybody needs to have dreams.’

  ‘Why? Why can’t I just get up in the morning and see what the day brings? Why does everything have to be planned out in intricate detail?’

  ‘I don’t do that.’

  ‘I’ve seen your spreadsheets, remember?’

  A few weeks ago, she’d shown him all her plans for the
house, holidays, potential private schooling for the girls if she/they could afford it, plans for their next new car, retirement funds, paying the mortgage off early, and she’d even worked out their household bills over the next four years, adjusting for inflation. She hadn’t realised at the time it had disturbed him that much.

  ‘But, Nathan, we need to be organised if we want to have the lifestyle we want.’

  ‘Lifestyle you want.’

  ‘What do you want? To live under a bridge somewhere, sleeping every night in a cardboard box?’

  Nathan sighed. ‘No, of course not. I just tend to, well … well, I like surprises. I like to take one day at a time. It’s just the way I am.’

  ‘Well, that’s fine; you just do that, and I’ll do the planning.’

  ‘It’s not just that, Laura. I’m not sure exactly what it is but when we split up, I don’t know, it … I … I felt betrayed. You betrayed me.’

  ‘Don’t be so melodramatic. We needed that break to see what had gone wrong.’

  ‘You needed that break to shag someone else.’

  ‘You had your fling too with what’s-her-face, so don’t use that against me.’

  ‘I did, and I let her down too.’

  ‘You did what was right and if you’re thinking of going back to her, I wouldn’t advise it.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Laura, I couldn’t go back even if I wanted to. She’d never come near me in a million years after the way I treated her.’

  ‘She served her purpose, Nathan. She made you realise what life would be like without me.’

  Nathan pondered on that for a moment before nodding. ‘Yeah, she did, didn’t she?’

  ‘Daddy.’

  ‘That’s Millie shouting,’ Laura said. ‘What’s wrong with her now? She should be able to go to sleep herself at her age.’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll find out.’

  *

  Nathan walked down the long hall, up the broad winding staircase and into Millie’s new huge bedroom. He sat on her bed. ‘What’s wrong, sweetie?’

  ‘Are you and Mummy arguing again?’

  ‘You must have the hearing of a bat to know that from this distance.’

  She smiled. ‘I was sitting at the top of the stairs.’

  ‘We were just having a discussion, you eavesdropper.’

  ‘You’re not happy, Dad.’

  ‘I’m fine.’