Don't Push Me

by Ewan McGregor

  I’m just getting started.

  10

  Kat was sat on her couch feeling sorry for herself. She had drunk far too much wine. Coupled with the painkillers she had taken – those the hospital had provided and her own supply – it meant she was slipping in and out of consciousness. She knew she needed to stop drinking as much, but to say she was having a bad week would be an understatement.

  She had finally gathered up the ever growing pile of mail on the floor. As she suspected and feared, most of it was bills in her ex-husband’s name. Some of them were final reminders. The scumbag was still using her address to run up debt even though he hadn’t stayed with Kat for nearly ten years now. It was yet another headache to deal with and yet another reason to hit the bottle. She took another mouthful of wine, but as she tried to place the glass on the coffee table, it slipped from her drunken grasp and smashed on the wooden floor. Things were not going well. In her semi-conscious state, Kat tried to compose herself and clean it up, but she only managed to cut herself on the hand. Blood now mixed in with the glass and rosé wine. What a mess.

  Kat made her way into the kitchen to where she kept some plasters in a little first-aid box. She haphazardly slapped a couple on her hand to stem the steady flow of blood and replaced the box next to an array of pills.

  Looking at the multitude of drugs in the cupboard, Kat got to thinking. She could just take a load more pills along with the wine, be done with it once and for all, she thought morbidly. She had already taken too many painkillers – a few more and it would all be over. It would be easily done. She’d just drift off into a drunken sleep and never wake up. No one would miss her and the torment in work would be at an end. They couldn’t make her cry anymore. No more abusive text messages. No more damaging her things. No more taunts or getting locked in the toilet. No more jibes about her weight, and they wouldn’t make her have bloody panic attacks.

  Then she thought about her son, Paul. He would miss her. She smiled. Of all the things she had done in life, no one could take away the fact that Paul had turned out great, and that was in no small part down to her. She had brought him up by herself – well, with help from her mum and dad, but no help from his no-good father, who hadn’t contributed a single penny to his upbringing. He had done a bunk just before Kat gave birth; only reappearing years later when he claimed he wanted to make amends. Kat had been suckered in and nearly lost everything as a result. Nearly even lost her relationship with Paul. The real reason the scumbag had come back was to fleece Kat and then file for a divorce. What a treat he was.

  She was proud of her son, and she knew there and then that her fleeting thought of suicide wouldn’t come to anything more than that. Who would look after Kiddles if she was gone in any case? She stroked the cat, which had curled up and gone to sleep beside her.

  What a state to get into, Kat thought with tears forming. There was no way she should be allowing two silly, immature little girls to lead her to thoughts of ending it all.

  She was feeling terrible after her hospital stay and the alcohol really hadn’t helped matters. She felt as if she was on the verge of collapse, both physically and mentally. If she carried on drinking the way she had been, she would end up back in hospital, that was for sure. She’d do herself permanent damage. She had always liked the odd glass of wine but would never have been classed as a big drinker. Now she was drinking every night and it was definitely turning into a problem. She resolved to sort herself out. She wouldn’t let them win. She wouldn’t keep turning to alcohol as a coping mechanism.

  Kat turned the television off. She couldn’t even remember one programme that had been on; it was just background noise. The living room was a bit of a mess with shards of glass and blood, but it could wait until the morning. She needed to sleep; her bed was calling out to her.

  11

  Kat’s doorbell buzzed.

  She was in the middle of sorting out some food for Kiddles and trying to clean up last night’s drink-induced mess. Her head was thumping from her fall in the toilet. The large intake of rosé certainly hadn’t improved matters.

  The doorbell buzzed again.

  ‘I’m coming!’ Kat shouted. She still felt exhausted and really shaky. Her hangover was going to be a good one.

  She opened the door. Standing on the step was the last person she would have expected. The last person she ever wanted to see.

  Rachel.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ She was the reason for all of this, yet here she was, bold as brass. Kat couldn’t believe her eyes. She felt physically sick at the sight of her. Although, in fairness, last night’s wine might have had something to do with that.

  ‘I’ve come to apologise, Kat,’ Rachel said. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Kat stood there stunned. How did Rachel even know where she stayed?

  ‘Is this some sort of joke?’ Kat said.

  ‘No, Kat, it’s no joke,’ Rachel said quietly, with her head bowed. ‘I feel terrible – I’m so sorry. I can’t believe you ended up in hospital.’

  Kat should have closed the door and gone back inside. She should have given Rachel a piece of her mind and slammed the door in her face. Instead, she stepped aside and invited her in.

  Sitting in her living room, Kat noticed that Rachel was just a slight wee thing. Nothing to be scared of at all. Yet, the uneasy feeling was back. This was completely out of character for Rachel, and Kat couldn’t help but think that there was some sort of ulterior motive at play. This could all be some sort of elaborate trick. She wasn’t going to offer her a cup of tea and biscuits at any rate.

  ‘I can’t believe how I’ve behaved. I’m here to tell you that you don’t need to worry anymore. I’ve told Kirsty as well – it’s gone way too far and that’s it. It’s done. Nothing will ever happen to you again. I’m so sorry,’ Rachel said, whilst surveying the mess of the living room.

  Kat couldn’t believe her ears. Rachel was either a very good actress or she was genuine. Maybe she really was sorry? There was even the glint of tears in her eyes.

  ‘Why would you lock me in the toilet? Why are you so bloody cruel to me?’ Kat asked. She needed some sort of explanation for what she had been put through.

  ‘I… I don’t know. It all started out as a bit of a joke and Kirsty kind of led me astray. I know that’s no excuse, and I know it’s gone way beyond a joke,’ Rachel replied. ‘I’m so sorry you ended up getting hurt. I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.’

  ‘You smashed my car up. It cost me a fortune—’

  ‘We’ll give you the money back, Kat. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I should’ve gone to the police. Shown them the damage.’

  ‘I know. I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I deserve it, but honestly, Kat, I feel terrible. I’m so, so sorry,’ Rachel said again. She couldn’t even look Kat in the eye as they spoke. She looked thoroughly ashamed. She looked full of remorse.

  ‘I guess we could start again, let bygones be bygones so to speak,’ Kat said. She couldn’t believe the words that were coming out her mouth – let bygones be bygones? This was the girl who had, for six months or more, destroyed Kat’s life. Yet all she wanted more than anything in the world was for it all to stop. To not wake up every single morning with that feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. To be able to go to work without fearing what might happen. To look at her phone without fearing what she would see or read. In short, Kat wanted to resume living her life again. She couldn’t believe this turn of events; Rachel’s visit had taken her completely by surprise.

  ‘That would be great. You’ll never know how sorry I am, Kat. I’m so disgusted with myself. I can’t believe how I’ve behaved,’ Rachel said.

  ‘It’s done now,’ Kat replied.

  ‘Well, that’s all I came to say. I’ll let you get back to it. See you in work. Thanks for being so nice about it,’ Rachel said, standing up.

  ‘See you in work.’ Kat led her back to the door where Kiddles was standing guard.r />
  ‘Oh, what a lovely cat,’ Rachel said, reaching down to stroke Kiddles. ‘I love cats – used to have one myself.’

  Rachel petted the cat and then left the flat, leaving Kat thoroughly bemused.

  12

  Rachel had been true to her word. Kat’s next day in work had been just like old. The bullying had stopped. They were never going to be best friends after all that had gone on, but Kat had even exchanged a little hello with Rachel as they passed each other on the way back from the morning break. Not one person had said a cross word to her. They hadn’t made fun of her weight or slagged her off for… well, for anything at all. If things continued in this vein then the panic attack might turn out to be the best thing that could ever have happened. A blessing in disguise, so to speak. Kat was allowed to go about her daily business free from taunts, and she felt a great relief, like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She might even go for that promotion after all if this continued. She had put it off for long enough. It was about time she started thinking about herself and her career prospects again.

  Even inept manager Tony was being nice to her. He had called Kat into his office and asked how she was feeling, which had taken her completely by surprise. He hadn’t asked her anything at all in months. The last time they had spoken had been when Kat confronted him about Rachel and Kirsty’s terrible behaviour and he had been no help whatsoever. Today though, he couldn’t have been nicer and seemed to be genuinely concerned about Kat’s well-being. He even told her that his brother had suffered from panic attacks in his teens and said he could sympathise.

  If every day was like this then Kat would have nothing to worry about at all. Her life could resume again.

  At lunchtime, Kat had even made a start trying to deal with her ex-husband using her address to build up yet another mountain of debt. She had made contact with a few of the lenders and tried to explain the situation, telling them that this had happened before and she wasn’t averse to the police getting involved if that was the only way the problem could be solved. Kat wasn’t sure the customer advisors she had spoken to would solve the matter, but at least it was a start. It was better than burying her head in the sand, pretending that nothing was happening. It made her feel better that she was at least being proactive about the situation.

  The only worry Kat had now was the fact she hadn’t seen Kiddles before work this morning. She was becoming increasingly worried. It was very unusual. She would have to get Mrs Paterson on the case. She would find him in no time. He had disappeared for a few hours before, but to Kat’s mind, he had never missed his morning meal. She was sure that when she went home the cat would have returned. He would be hungry by now.

  13

  Kat had arranged to meet her son Paul for lunch. He was off for a couple of days from work and needed to pop into the city centre, so he had asked Kat if she was free during her lunch hour. Kat had been delighted to get the call and to accept the invitation. Her luck really was turning.

  Kat entered the lovely modern Italian restaurant. It was an ideal location as it was on Bothwell Street, directly opposite the bank. She had never been in before, even though her work had hired the place out last month for a function. Kat had stopped going to any work events since the bullying had started. It was a shame, as her social calendar wasn’t exactly jam-packed, and work events used to be one of the rare occasions she had gone for a night out.

  Paul was already seated at a table for two by the window as Kat entered. He had a glass of mineral water in front of him.

  ‘Mum, how are you?’ Paul said. ‘What can I get you to drink?’

  ‘I’m good. I’ll just have a mineral water as well,’ Kat said.

  ‘You sure I can’t tempt you with a wee wine?’ Paul replied.

  Kat wasn’t even tempted today. The urge to drink seemed to be dissipating a little. She needed to distance herself from that particular crutch. There was no need to drink herself into oblivion anymore.

  ‘No, no, mineral water will be fine. Need a clear head for work this afternoon.’

  After a few minutes Kat and Paul ordered and sat back, watching the world go by. Glasgow was busy at this time of day and Bothwell Street was packed with workers coming and going on their lunch hour. For once, the rain had stopped and it was turning into a nice afternoon. Kat was always delighted when Paul phoned her to meet up. Their relationship had almost been broken beyond repair around ten years ago when Kat had taken his no-good father back. It had taken months for Paul to even speak to her again, and now when they met up, all conversation about Stephen was strictly off limits. He was like a dark cloud that hung over them even though he was completely out of their lives.

  ‘How’s that cat of yours?’ Paul asked.

  ‘Kiddles is great – keeps me going.’ Kat didn’t want to admit she was worried about his current whereabouts.

  ‘And how’s work going?’

  ‘I’m just plodding along – you know me.’ Kat hadn’t confided in Paul about the bullying and now she hoped she would never have to. ‘I’m thinking about going for another job in the department. A manager’s job,’ Kat said.

  ‘You should definitely go for it. You know you could do any job in there; you should be higher up.’

  ‘I know, I know. Anyway, less about boring old me. What about you and Charlotte?’

  Paul and Charlotte had been going out for years and had recently bought their first house together. Charlotte was a lovely girl, and Kat was thrilled that their relationship was progressing in the right direction. The couple had been through a few sticky patches over the years but everything seemed to be back on track now.

  ‘That’s the reason I suggested lunch, Mum,’ Paul said. ‘I’ve got some good news to tell you, but you need to keep it to yourself for a bit. Charlotte’s pregnant – you’re going to be a granny!’

  Kat was in tears before Paul had even finished his sentence – happy tears this time. She was absolutely delighted with the news. She had longed for this more than anything else in the world.

  ‘That’s brilliant!’ Kat said. She was trying to compose herself and stop attracting attention from the other diners.

  ‘She’s just a few weeks so—’

  ‘I’ll not say a word,’ Kat said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. ‘It’s just great news. You don’t know how happy this makes me.’

  14

  Kat kissed Paul goodbye and made her way across the road back to work with a definite spring in her step. The meal had been lovely. The company and the news she had received before the meal had been even better. She was going to be a grandmother. Kat couldn’t believe it. She was absolutely delighted. Would it be a little boy? Or a little girl? As long as the baby was healthy, it didn’t matter one jot.

  Just a couple of days ago Kat had been at her lowest ebb, drinking far too much and contemplating unthinkable actions. It was amazing how things could change so much in a short period of time. How things could be turned completely around. She couldn’t stop smiling; she really was on cloud nine.

  As Kat entered into the bank’s reception area her phone vibrated. She fished it out of her bag. It was her elderly neighbour Mrs Paterson calling. No doubt there was a faulty street light or someone had forgotten to take their bins out on collection day again. Nonetheless, nothing could spoil Kat’s mood today after the great news she had just been given. Still smiling, she accepted the call.

  ‘Kat! Oh my goodness… I’m so glad I got you…’

  ‘What’s wrong, Mrs Paterson? You’ll need to calm down; you’ve got yourself in a terrible state.’

  ‘Oh, my poor Kat. I can’t believe it. Terrible, terrible news.’

  ‘What is it?’ Kat was worried now. The smile had gone from her face. This didn’t sound like her usual calls from Mrs Paterson.

  ‘It’s the cat – it’s Kiddles…’

  ‘Mrs Paterson? What’s happened?’

  ‘I found him in the garden when I was taking out my recycling—’
r />   ‘Mrs Paterson?’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Kat. The poor… the poor thing’s… dead.’

  Kat couldn’t breathe again; it was as if her throat had contracted. She steadied herself against the wall before she collapsed. The reception area was busy and a few people stopped and stared.

  ‘Say that again? Mrs Paterson?’ Kat was frantic. This couldn’t be happening.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Kat – Kiddles is dead.’

  15

  Kat sat in the uncomfortable old-fashioned chair sipping brandy. It wasn’t helping as much as Mrs Paterson had said it would.

  Her whole body was trembling. Kat couldn’t get her head around what was going on. She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to believe it. She had gone from the euphoria of Paul telling her she was to be a grandmother to the heartache and shock of Mrs Paterson telling her Kiddles was dead.

  Kat had driven from work as fast as she could, her head spinning and tears flowing freely. She had hoped and prayed that Mrs Paterson had made some sort of mistake, but she knew that wouldn’t be the case.

  Poor Kiddles. He had been fine. He’d been at the vet’s only a few weeks ago and was in good health. How could this have happened?

  Mrs Paterson had kindly invited Kat inside as she did most days. Kat had been that numb she had accepted. She really was all over the place. Only an hour previously, she had been on top of the world – now she had crashed back down to earth with a huge bump. She felt completely at a loss.

  ‘The poor little thing was just lying there. I knew it wasn’t looking good right away. I nearly called an ambulance but then you can’t phone an ambulance for a cat, can you? Then I thought about phoning a vet but I don’t know any vets so I thought I’d phone you. Poor little thing,’ Mrs Paterson said as she stroked Kat’s hand.