he found in the shed, eventually. The bank came and took the house off him, he’d not been opening letters or taking any notice of anything much, so he hadn’t packed anything; just one day he had a house with all his things in and the next he was sat on the bench outside the bus station with a carrier bag of beer from the shop. He went from having everything he needed in life to living on the streets in less than a year. When he lived on the street, Jerry didn’t talk to anyone about anything for five years. He said I was only one of about ten people he’d spoken to since the day his wife left. I’m not sure why he chose me to tell his story to, but he did. He used to say that he enjoyed talking to me. At the time I thought that was code for ‘I enjoy the free fags you give me’, but the more I think about it now, though, the more I realise that it must have been nice to have a few minutes every day to get out of the dark place he lived in, even if the motivation for that was getting something for nothing from me.
I never really talked about myself to Jerry, apart from telling him how bad my day was. He always did the same thing when I started to tell him about that, though; he used to look himself up and down then look back at me. It was his way of telling me to shut up. He’d never say it, though, he was too polite.
I stopped seeing Jerry when I left the job I was in at the time. I’ve seen him a few times since, still on the bench and still sitting alone. I’ve often thought about going to see him, but it’s just one of those things that always gets moved back to tomorrow.
It’s always been in the back of my mind that one day, when I grew up properly, I’d work with the homeless. I’ve just never got round to looking into it.
‘You should really look into that, then,’ Alison suggested when I’d finished telling her about Jerry.
And do you know what, Diary, I may just do that. Not tonight, though, I’m too tired from driving to the hospital and back, and I don’t have to think about work for at least forty eight hours.
The subject of names wasn’t something that Alison wanted to talk about tonight, ether, although she did definitely veto Graham, Junior and Little G.
Tuesday May 8th 2012
I’ve stuck the scan picture to the fridge, but I keep getting up from the sofa to go and look at it. Alison walked past and told me that if I was looking for food I needed to open the fridge, which I thought was a cruel jibe to make when I was only taking an interest in my son.
I’ve tipped the photo of me and my mate Keith on holiday when we were eighteen out of the frame and put the picture of my son in. it looks good sitting on the window sill, better than the fridge, and I don’t have to keep getting up to look at him.
Alison went to bed early tonight, I think she’s still upset about having a boy.
I spent the evening thinking over names, I keep coming back to Graham in one form or another; I think Little Graham has a ring to it.
Wednesday May 9th 2012
I’ve been thinking … as we’re having a boy, that means he’s probably going to be hyperactive. I’m not sure how I’m going to handle that. I know there isn’t anything we can do about it now, but I can clearly see now that all my talk of ‘I want a boy’ was ill thought out and based on nothing other than me wanting a little version of myself.
This time in two years’ time I’ll be chasing him around the place, up and down the stairs, and unable to leave anything of mine lying around.
I’ve had to make a list of positive reasons to have a son as I’ve started to think negatively about it.
1) The family name will get carried on
2) I can watch him play sport.
3) I could manipulate him to take up a sport that I like.
4) I won’t have to worry about him as much as I would a girl.
5) I can teach him my sexist jokes when he’s old enough to appreciate them.
6) I’ll have a bit of solidarity in the toilet seat argument that seems to happen in every house.
7) We can laugh at farts together.
8) We can ride bikes for miles and miles in the summer.
9) I can’t think of a nine, but I think I’ve done ever so well with the other eight so I don’t need one.
See, we humans can be positive.
Saturday May 12th 2012
Alison spent the day trying to convince me that I need to change my job. I was getting fed up with agreeing in the end. I thought she was just talking, but it turns out she meant get the laptop out and start looking. I was glad when my parents turned up to see how we were, on their way to the shops.
It’s great having a baby on the way. Both sets of our parents keep asking if we need anything. If we were to turn into a benefit claiming baby machine, I’d never have to do a big shop again.
Mum went and got us a few bits while Dad fixed the shower and then told us both about the new TV he’d brought for the lounge. What he really wanted to tell us was that he had the old lounge TV in the shed now. He’s also planning an extension. Mum returned with more food than we’d asked for and also a few DVDs for us to watch. I made us all a few sandwiches, showing off the skills I’ve learnt in my job. I think they were all impressed.
The DVDs did the trick: when Mum and Dad left, Alison had forgotten about going on at me about jobs.
Alison has thrown in the towel and admitted we now live together. I’m glad she’s decided as I can start pointing out to her which are my drawers and which ones she can have, rather than her just borrowing mine all the time.
Sunday May 13th 2012
The usual Sunday fear of how crap the working week in front of me was about to be crept its way into my afternoon just after lunch. I started to think more and more about working in a hostel, I mean, I might not be able to swan into a management job at a hostel, but surely I could be a minion if I went to college and learnt a little about it. There’d be less learning time for a normal job than there would a management position, surely.
I spent the evening Googling what I needed to work in a hostel. There is very little information about it on the Internet. Most organisations say that 'life experience' is enough. I found myself on a forum where someone suggested doing an interpersonal skills course as this would help me be able to talk to people and relate to them on their level, whatever that means. I looked at the college website and they don’t have the course currently, but used to run it. I’m going to ring them tomorrow and see if they have any plans to start it again.
Monday May 14th 2012
It was the normal dull day in the kitchen today. I cooked the bacon then went onto serving the food when it was time for the cheese on toast to be made. It was the normal people getting the same thing they have every day for breakfast. It got me thinking about mundane lives. People get stuck in a rut and end up doing the same thing day in day out for the whole of their working life, the only reason I’ve avoided it up to now is I keep changing one shitty job for another.
On the way home I popped into the library to see if they had any books on working with people. I was going to take one out called Homeless People and How to Work With Them, but when I got to the counter the librarian told me I owed sixteen pounds for a couple of DVDs that I took back late seven and a half years ago. I asked if I could pay next time, when I brought the book back, but she wouldn’t let me. So I sat in there and read for ten minutes before getting bored with the lack of sound and left vowing to hate the council run library for the rest of my days.
I also forgot to ring the college when I got home.
Alison knows when our boy is awake and when he’s asleep now. It’s amazing. He wakes up just as she is about to go to sleep and likes to kick for a while. Alison likes to call me to feel the kicks every night. More than once I get up there to nothing. I’ve decided I’m not going to go anymore as the baby is winning the battle of wits. I’m sure this is the first wind up from my son. I can see him now, laughing in there, made up that he’s made me stop playing Xbox, run upstairs and navigate all the beanbags and pillows Alison has on the bed, only to find no movement.
Tuesday May 15th 2012
I went back to the library today and paid the fine, it means I can’t save any money for my future son this week, but at least I can tell him I did the right thing.
I finally remembered to ring the college today; my heart sank when they said that they had no current plans to run another interpersonal skills course. However, they also said that as they’ve had some interest in the course over the last few weeks, they were going to have a meeting about it and that situation might change. I asked when they’d know for sure and the lady told me it was likely to be a couple of weeks, and to ring back to check.
It might not have been the lack of sound in the library that bored me the other day; that book on working with homeless people is really dull. It keeps talking about reports and different methods of counselling to ‘engage’ homeless people. I don’t know what the word ‘entrenched’ means but they keep talking about it in the book. I could look it up, but I’m not sure I’ll like what I find. It sounds like a trouser complaint.
Alison is going to stay with her parents this weekend so I have some time to myself. I might ask Keith if he fancies going for a few beers.
Saturday May 19th 2012
I feel so rough.
Sunday May 20th 2012
I’m just about feeling normal today. Keith came round on Friday and we went out. It was only the local, but once we started
The Diary Of An Expectant Father (The Diary Of A Father Book 1) Page 10