by Annette Heys
‘Ouch!’ someone cried out.
Tommy whipped around. ‘Did it get you?’
‘No. I was just thinking I wouldn’t fancy getting stung in the Azores.’ Action Man stuck two fingers up at him.
‘That’s nothing compared to the sting I once got.’
‘What’s that, Tommy?’
‘A red ‘ead. Fifteen grand she took me for. I wouldn’t want to experience pain like that again.’
There was a burst of laughter and Tommy was about to elucidate when there was a loud THWACK. He turned his folder over to reveal a gooey black and yellow striped mess. ‘Aw, shall I put it out the winder, Miss?’
‘I’d like to get on with the lesson, if you don’t mind.’ Kate said firmly.
‘I’ll just tell ‘em ‘ow I got stung.’
‘You’ll sit down and shut up for once,’ she yelled, feeling a rush of colour to her cheeks as everyone turned to look at her. Michael was grinning. He seemed quite pleased that Tommy had been put in his place at last. Even Michael, usually so in tune with her moods, didn’t seem to realise there might be another reason for her tetchiness. It was a good thing too. She didn’t want anyone asking her questions and just wanted to get the morning over with.
It came as a great relief when the lesson ended. She quickly went around the room gathering up folders and giving brief responses to their comments. Soon the room emptied except for Michael and once they were on their own, she realised he did suspect something was wrong.
‘How did the wedding go? Only you seem a bit down.’
Kate continued to tidy up without looking at him. ‘Oh, I’m just tired. It was a bit of a hectic weekend.’
‘I kept thinking about you and hoping everything went off OK. I expect you cried in church. All women cry at weddings.’
She managed a half hearted smile. All women might cry at weddings but she couldn’t imagine they cried for the same reason she had.
‘You were lucky with the weather, weren’t you?’
‘Yes, it was a lovely day.’ She suddenly felt a desperate urge to get away from him. ‘Look, Michael, I have to dash . . .’
‘Before you go, I need to give you this. I was bored so I wrote some stuff for you.’ He pushed a wad of folded paper towards her.
‘Right . . . thanks.’ She picked it up and looked at it. There was something she had to say to him. ‘Michael, I’m not sure you should do this anymore. Some of the things you tell me . . . well, I’ve told you before, they’re not the sort of things I had in mind when I asked you to write down your experiences.’
Michael studied her for a moment before answering, a wry smile on his lips. ‘You know how easily I get carried away. I don’t mean to but it just all comes out. Anyway, you never said anything about that last stuff I wrote. In fact, you said some of it made you laugh.’
‘I don’t remember. Anyway, think about what I’ve said, won’t you.’
A prison officer popped his head into the classroom checking for stray inmates. Michael’s expression turned solemn. Without another word he picked up his folder and quickly marched from the room like a child after a ticking off. That was the strange thing about Michael. Sometimes he could be quite mature and profound for someone with his background and lack of education and at other times he behaved like a sulky little boy.
On the way home Kate thought about Michael’s obsession with sex. Occasionally, a prisoner would attempt to strike up a discussion in class about something inappropriate. She knew the intention was to try and embarrass her but their efforts to make her squirm had no effect these days. She’d become immune to their sad humour. When they didn’t get the reaction they expected it would be forgotten, but not Michael; it sent his depraved mind into overdrive. Prison had given him the opportunity to explore, if only mentally, the wonders of sex within the limitations of his cell. By accepting his letters, she was not only encouraging these outpourings but also making their existence more thrilling because she, the object of his desire, was reading them and therefore, as far as he was concerned, sharing in his pleasure. She doubted whether he really expected an answer to his sex fuelled questions; in fact, he probably derived some sort of pleasure on the occasions when she reprimanded him for going too far, otherwise why keep writing in the same vein? For him, it was probably the closest thing to full on sex that he was likely to have. He wrote about sex as though he was writing about the weather, as though it was the most normal thing in the world to tell or ask her anything he liked. The only thing that makes a thing ‘normal’ is its acceptance. And it didn’t matter how many times she rebuked him or how many times he apologised, as long as she continued to accept his letters Kate knew nothing would change.
She was telling herself she needed to be stronger as she pulled onto the drive next to Jim’s van. She remembered he was taking Sharon to the station at some point today. It would be their first time alone since the discovery of his infidelity and she was dreading it. He would try and persuade her to stay with him but she didn’t know what she wanted. She needed time to think. Now would be a good time to put her new resolution into practice.
She entered the kitchen where Jade slowly heaved herself up from her bed and waddled over to say hello. She spent most her days lying curled up in her bed now. Kate stroked her ears and spoke softly to her. She wagged her tail in appreciation of the attention. Her muzzle had turned quite grey and her eyes now had a bluish cast to them. She was going blind and some mornings her back legs would be so stiff she had difficulty walking. Kate wondered how long it would be before she lost her. The days of walking her for miles had gone and today, especially today, she should have loved to have picked up the leash, turned around and walked straight back out to lose herself for hours in the countryside with her faithful companion.
From the living room she could hear voices and knew she must go in and face Jim and Sharon while keeping up the pretence that all was well between them.
‘Ah, Kate, you’re back. Sharon wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.’ He ignored the hostile look and continued. ‘I’m just slipping out to the shop. Louise is running out of nappies. I won’t be long.’
Take as long as you like, Kate thought, dropping her bag by the side of the settee where Louise lay fast asleep in her carry cot. She peered over at the tiny face above the pink blanket. ‘Has she been asleep long?’
‘About an hour. She should wake up for a feed soon.’ Sharon waited until Jim was out of the room before continuing. ‘Thanks for letting me stay here. Dad told me all about you before I came so I knew I’d be made welcome.’
‘No need to thank me. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, and Louise.’ Kate desperately hoped Louise would wake up now. She didn’t want to sit and exchange pleasantries with Jim’s daughter. What she really wanted to tell her was that her father was a lying, cheating rat, but she wouldn’t do that. No matter how much she was hurting, she couldn’t destroy someone else’s happiness. Sharon would go home none the wiser, for the time being at least.
‘I expect Dad told you about the christening in January? We’d love you to come down for the weekend. Like I said to Dad, we haven’t the room to put you up but a few of our guests are staying at the hotel in the village. I could arrange to book you a room there, if you like.’
‘We’ll have to see . . . it depends . . . I usually see to my mother at weekends. I’m sure Jim will be able to make it though.’ It was the first Kate had heard of it, although it was hardly likely that now would be the time for Jim to bring up the subject of a forthcoming family celebration. All the same, she wasn’t at all happy that he hadn’t given Sharon some indication that it was unlikely she should go. She was conscious of her hesitant reply and had an urgent desire to leave the room. ‘Would you like a drink,—tea, coffee?’
‘Yes, thanks. Coffee, please, if it’s no trouble.’
As she ma
de the drinks, Kate racked her brains for something to talk to Sharon about. Everything that came to mind seemed stilted. This awful business with Jim had knocked her confidence and made her feel ill at ease around people. She felt as though she was transparent and everyone could read what was going on inside her head. She returned to the living room in a state of anxiety.
Sharon held out her hands and took the cup from her. ‘Thanks.’ They sat in silence for a few moments before Sharon asked, ‘Does your mother live alone?’
‘Yes. My father died several years ago and then my brother last year. That was quite a blow to her, to all of us.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
Kate spoke quickly and without thinking to alleviate Sharon’s awkwardness. ‘We look after her between us, my younger brother and sisters.’ Immediately, she realised her words pretty much negated her excuse for not attending the christening. She cursed inwardly. The silence filled the room and Kate was aware of the sound of her own breathing, the sipping of her coffee. Mercifully, there was movement and a soft gurgling from the cot as Louise began to stir from sleep.
Kate leaned forward and looked into the cot. Louise punched the air with her tiny fists and her head moved from side to side, searching for something to satisfy a need that she could not possibly understand. This helpless little baby, safe from the weight of the world, would eventually, like the rest of us, suffer the pain of existence, she thought. Reaching inside the cot, she took hold of Louise’s hand. ‘She’s beautiful,’ Kate murmured.
‘Pick her up if you like. I’ll just go and warm up her feed.’ Sharon said this with sufficient warmth in her voice to disperse Kate’s anxiety in an instant.
Gently, Kate picked up the struggling infant and held her close. Her little face was full of contortions and her tongue sucked against soft pink lips. This was pure innocence she thought to herself, unsullied by worldly vices or troubled relationships.
She was vaguely aware of the sound of the front door opening and closing before Jim walked in with his purchases. ‘Everything all right?’ he asked, glancing around the room.
‘Why shouldn’t it be?’ Kate answered without taking her eyes from the baby. ‘I have no grievance with either Sharon or Louise.’
Now they were on their own, Kate kept out of Jim’s way. She had moved into one of the spare bedrooms and spent most evenings up there with the radio or portable television for company while Jim sat alone downstairs in the living room. He had all but given up trying to talk her round since she had made it perfectly clear she had nothing more to say to him. But that didn’t stop her wondering what he was up to and whether he had resumed his affair with Mrs. Duncan. The lack of communication between them bred uncertainty and created an even wider gulf, if that were possible.
She had been mistaken in her belief that their attempt to conceal their strained relationship had fooled Sharon; either that or Jim had mentioned something. Before she left, Sharon managed to get Kate on one side and apologised again for the fact that her husband Keith had been unable to come to the wedding—he’d been brought down by a bad attack of ‘flu. And then, with a hint of diffidence, she had taken hold of Kate’s hand and whispered that she couldn’t help noticing there was an atmosphere between them and sincerely hoped they would find a way through it. Kate had been rendered speechless. She asked herself whether it was impertinent of Sharon to have mentioned it or whether they were at fault for making their problems so apparent in front of a guest. What did it matter? Kate doubted whether she would ever see Sharon again.
As the days wore on, Kate became more and more introverted. She ignored the depression that was slowly creeping over her and carried on her daily tasks as best she could. It took a mammoth effort to do the simplest things. Her mind was in a constant jumble and when she shut herself away in her bedroom at night, it was impossible for her to find any peace in her solitude. At first she thought it was only to be expected after being dealt another blow to an already troubled existence. Even her dreams had become grotesque, inhabited with scenes of death and destruction. Thoughts, apocalyptic in stature, came to her as she lay wide awake for hours in a state of constant worry. Even though at times her sense of detachment from reality made her wonder whether she was losing her mind, she would not seek help. She had convinced herself that she was responsible for all the bad that had happened or was yet to happen, that somehow the fault lay in her and she deserved everything she got.
How she managed to hold things together at work, was a wonder to her. It was the familiarity of it all, the smelly, jangling, grey interior with its loud-mouthed inmates, that got her through the day. Nothing ever changed there, especially the tone and content of Michael’s letters.
19th Septemebr
believe it or not I hate writing letters I never know what to write about most of the time but with me doing this I can write about anything maybe its because I find its easy to write to you or maybe its because I’ve not done this kind of thing for anyone before . . . well you know me I like it if people say what they want to say you can ask me anything you like don’t be frighten of asking me something no matter how embaressing or what ever it may be go for it Id prefere it if people be truthful with me and ask me what ever it is you want to know you know me by now if there was something I wanted to know about you I just ask Im not shy as you know so no matter what it is you want to know just ask Id tell you anything you want to know you should know this by now so what ever it is thats on your mind tell me and another thing is could you ever imagine me ever chosing to ignoring you I dont think so you know I like you a hell of a lot Ive got all the time in the world for you you know I fancy the knickers of you and I have a lot of respect for you as a good friend and as a human being your everything in a person that I’ve dreamt off one in a million your the women of my dreams so your right theres no way Id ever ignor you Im not that type of person anyhow what else is there oh yeah your right I was not represented very well in court I had a solicitor but he was as much youse to me as a vibrator without batteries is not much youse to you when I told them I was changing my story it did not bother them and I could not mention about my time with my bitch of a landlady I did mention what it was like being on the street but they did not take much notice looking back on it now they were just a wast of time as far as I was concerned but I never knew much about the law then your right I never knew much about life you wanted to know if my mum taught us any discipline well if any of us misbehaved she would send us to our rooms but she did not smack any of us she did try once but never again well your right Im squirming you read them stupid questions they werent the ones I was going to ask you I thought you might have answerd some of the tamer questions never mind these were some of the questions I was going to ask you like what subjects did you hate at school? and what was your best subjects? did you have many boyfriends at school? what was the best chat up line you had from a boy/man and did it work? what was your chat up line? have you ever asked someone out and been turned down? do you kiss with your eyes open or closed? have you ever had any boys-men fight over you? have you ever played strip poker or doctors and nurses? was you ever a tom-boy when you were young? If so you will have to explain what a Tom-boy is I aint got a clue what one is Has your husband ever forgotten your birthday? Do you have to give your husband hints when your wedding annavesary comes up or has he or you ever forgotten it? have you ever gone to one of these sex shops? what actor would you most like to have gone out with? I know the answer to this P.S. have you ever been stood up for a date? have you ever stood anyone up on a date? whats been your most embaressing moment ever? how many boyfriends have you had? more than 10? more than 20? or more than 30? or more than 40? mine was around 20 in all have you ever been out with a black man? I’ve been out with a black girl but only once. how many times have you been engaged? What would you change about your body if you could? Do you think men are to secreative about themselves? what sort of things interest yo
u about a man? whats the most romantic thing your husband has done for you? Are you a romantic person? have you ever been dared to do something by someone? like go swimming naked or run down the street naked if so what was the dare and did you do it? have you ever been out with your husband some were and someone come up to you and chat you up thinking your husband was your dad? I know you have been married before but when you went up to the alter at the time have you ever thought about changing your mind about marrying them? have you ever turned someone down while someone asked to marry you? Well this is enough for the time being I wonder what you really made of them last questions I asked you I wonder if you found yourself answering them questions to yourself while reading them do married people ask each othere the kind of questions I have put to you or am I just to nosey I hope I have told you what you want to know if not don’t be shy ask me what ever you want I mean it what ever it is you want to know you know me I will tell you anything you want to know so dont hesitate ask away no matter what it is no matter how embaressing or offenceive it may seem Just go for it Id rather someone ask me something instead of beating around the bush I like people being open and truthful so if there is anything you want to know Just mention it so take it easy and all
The very best your friend
M a c
Reading Michael’s letters sent her into further despondency. He was not going to stop, she knew that, and she didn’t have the strength to do anything about it. Everything in her life was becoming intolerable—work, home, her weekly visits to her mother, listening to the same stories from years ago and still not having the heart to interrupt her; noticing how frail and forgetful she was becoming with each passing week, Ben. Too much, it was all getting too much for her. She needed to get away. Hadn’t Jim said they ought to go away somewhere? Well, why not, she thought. Without a moment’s hesitation, Kate found herself taking a detour into town before going home.