‘Charlie, will you get that?’ I shouted to him. ‘My hands are wet.’ I lifted up my arms decked out in yellow rubber gloves, carefully cowering from the dripping bleached water.
After a lot of giggling on my part amid several risqué manoeuvres, his cold hands reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out my phone. He answered it. I tried to get his attention, signalling him to help me pull off my gloves. But he batted my hand away playfully.
‘Hellooo?’ he said in an overly British accent.
I rolled my eyes, stupidly believing that he might actually be able to do something with a hint of sincerity.
‘Oh hi… yeah, sure, just a minute,’ he said, handing me the phone. At that point his face dropped. ‘It’s George,’ he said, covering the phone with his hand and whispering. ‘I think he’s crying.’
I pulled off the gloves and gave them to Charlie who quickly threw me a tea towel on which to dry my hands.
‘George,’ I said, putting the phone to my ear.
I waved to Charlie to turn down the television, my ears trying to compete with screams of cheering sports fans.
‘It’s Marlowe,’ he said. ‘I’m at the hospital.’
*
The journey was a bit of a blur. Charlie had offered to drive me as I pulled on my boots and wrapped a large cardigan around myself. We drove in confusion, a million questions coursing through my mind about how and what and why.
‘Well, what did he say?’ Charlie said as he wove in and out of the traffic.
‘He didn’t say anything,’ I said, my voice shaking, ‘just that we needed to get to the hospital tonight.’
‘Did he tell you how she did it?’
‘Pills,’ I said, looking over at him.
After a short journey that I couldn’t even remember, he pulled up onto the kerb outside the hospital. I opened the door to jump out.
‘Ring me when you can,’ he said, before driving away.
I quickly ran up the concrete stairs two at a time and pushed against the revolving glass doors. Too slow for a hospital, I thought to myself, too slow for people who needed to rush through.
‘Sean,’ I shouted, as he stood talking to the receptionist. I ran over to him. ‘What happened?’
‘They said it was a mixture of paracetamol and vodka. George and her parents are with her now. The doctors say she’ll be fine.’ His neck was flushed and blotchy. ‘I just can’t believe it.’
I rubbed my hand across the top of his back to comfort him. I couldn’t believe it either. At that point, Amber flooded in wearing a hoodie and leggings, her wet hair still hanging around her shoulders. ‘How is she?’ she said, in a fluster, ‘have you heard anything yet?’
‘She’s going to be fine,’ Sean said, ‘that’s the main thing. Luckily, George found her and was able to call the ambulance.’
I followed them through to the hospital lift. We’d been here before. The rush to the hospital, hearing my heart beat in my chest, facing the possibility of losing someone, permanently. Not some subsidiary problem that can sometimes seem important, but a tragedy. My feet felt weak from under me. It took all of my strength just to stand.
The three of us sat side by side on the waiting-room chairs. As I walked over to the vending machine to buy us some tea, I couldn’t help but think how such a monumental car crash could have happened within my best friend’s life and how I could’ve remained oblivious to it. Why wasn’t I her shoulder to cry on, why wasn’t I there when she had thought this through? I should have been providing the late-night phone calls: listening, caring. Over the past few months I had been lost in a whirlwind of happiness, within the confines of a new job and relationship. And while I was celebrating success, concerned only about proving my worth, she was struggling to keep her head above water. I felt a wave of shame as I waited impatiently for the hot water to fill the plastic cups.
‘Here,’ I said to them both. ‘I got us some tea.’
As I sat down I could smell the clinical, sterile air of the hospital, the squeaking sound of the nurses’ shoes as they did the rounds.
‘I just still can’t believe we’re here,’ Amber said, fidgeting in her seat. ‘How long are we going to have to wait?’
‘As long as it takes,’ I said, gently.
It was half an hour, which felt like a year, before we all stood up in unison as Marlowe’s parents walked into the waiting room.
‘Thank you for coming,’ her father said, despite all the torment, still maintaining a politeness. I walked over to her mum and put my arms around her, her weight resting heavily in my arms. She smelled of faint floral perfume and stale tears.
‘She’s in room number thirty-one,’ she said. ‘She’s tired and obviously needs to get some rest but I’m sure she’d appreciate some company.’
Her father shook his head as he sat down, slowly coming to the realisation of what had happened to his daughter.
‘Amber…’ I whispered as we walked down an endlessly long corridor. ‘I don’t understand…’
‘I do,’ she replied. ‘She’s been miserable. But not in my wildest dreams did I think it would come to this.’
We slowly turned the corner and arrived at room number thirty-one, knocking lightly on the open door. The sight of her in her hospital gown was the first thing to hit me.
‘Hi, guys,’ George whispered, getting up from his chair.
‘Don’t get up for us…’ Sean said, as he walked over to Marlowe, lying so perfectly in the bed.
‘No, it’s fine,’ George replied. ‘I need to go and speak with the doctor.’
I sat down on the chair next to Marlowe, my eyes focusing on a thin, clear tube going into her hand attached to a bag of liquid that hung above our heads.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said to her, quietly, as I pushed the blonde hair from her forehead. She was still weak and pale and I could tell she had been crying.
Amber sat silently in the chair opposite. I could see her staring at the monitors, the monotonous bleeping cutting in and out of the silence.
‘Thank you for coming to see me,’ Marlowe said, trying to sit up.
Sean looked around at the wires, the clipboards and the jug of water before stopping at Marlowe, her once-glossy exterior now faded and tired. He got up and perched on the edge of her bed.
‘Right, lady,’ he said, looking her directly in the eye, ‘this stops now, okay? If you have problems you come to me, do you hear?’
‘I’m sorry for worrying you all. I just… I just couldn’t…’
‘We know,’ Amber said. ‘You don’t need to explain anything. We are all here and we love you. That’s all that matters now.’
‘I think it’s time we had a proper chat about all of this, don’t you?’ I said, sternly.
The three of us sat back down and faced her. This time, we were all here, and we were listening.
‘It all started months ago. I just reached the point where I didn’t know who I was anymore. Everything just got so…’
‘Just say it, Marlowe,’ I said, holding her hand.
‘. . . heavy,’ she continued. ‘I can pinpoint exactly when it happened. One day I was young and excited about my future and the next I just didn’t seem to care, about any of it. I mean, I had Elsa on the promise that we’d both be raising her… well, it didn’t work out like that… and I’m not blaming her, of course, she’s my absolute world but I just felt so… alone.’ She pressed a tissue to her face as if to form a barricade against the tears. ‘I suppose I just bottled it all up until I was ready to explode,’ she said, welling up again.
‘What do you need us to do, Mars?’ I asked, feeling embarrassed that I didn’t already know.
‘I don’t think there’s anything you can do,’ she said, smiling at me. ‘He’s cheating on me, Jess.’ Her comment silenced the room. I discreetly looked over at Amber who had a face like thunder. ‘I found out a few weeks ago. Some woman called Samantha… if she’s the only one.’
‘How do you know?’
I asked, stunned.
‘His phone accidently synched up with the computer,’ she said. ‘I’ve read every text message, every email, seen every picture. He doesn’t know I know and I don’t want him to. So you can’t say anything.’
‘He should be lying in a hospital bed,’ Amber said, angrily, ‘not you.’
‘But why are we here, Mars, what pushed you to this?’ I asked, softly.
‘Well, a few months ago at the dinner party, the one where you brought Charlie and Amber…’
‘Shagged her boss and then drank the guilt away…’ Sean said, rolling his eyes.
Amber looked over at him as Marlowe let out a small smile.
‘Well…’ she continued, ‘I don’t know, maybe it was having you all there and meeting Charlie’s friend James… but…’
‘Just say it,’ Amber said, holding her other hand. ‘You don’t have to be the sensible one all of the time.’
‘Let her rip!’ Sean nodded.
‘It was exciting and a bit of fun,’ she continued. ‘I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had that effect on someone. I suppose it was the thrill of flirting and mixed-messages and sexual tension. I’m still young and I’m starting to sound like a fifty-year-old. Sometimes I wonder where my life went. I forget that it’s still in front of me.’
‘I think it’s only natural, Marlowe, to have these feelings,’ Sean said. ‘But excitement and passion, they wear off, you know. That’s something we’ve all got to face some day.’
‘It’s true, Mars,’ I said, nodding in agreement. I leaned back slowly into the plastic chair. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I should’ve known.’
‘This isn’t anybody’s fault but mine,’ Marlowe said. ‘I don’t know much right now but I do know that. I’ve agreed with my parents to talk to someone about it, a professional, who can help me figure out a way to navigate through it… somehow. After all, I’m far too young to feel so hopeless.’
‘You’re not hopeless, Marlowe,’ Amber said. ‘If anyone can take that crown this year it would be me.’
‘Or me…’ I said.
‘Either of you,’ Sean said. ‘But not you, Mars.’
I looked over at my friends as we all sat there, our silence broken only by the sound of the nurse entering the room.
‘Now, I’ve just got to run a few tests,’ she said, in a faint Irish accent. ‘Nice to see you’ve got your friends with you.’
‘I think we had better leave you both to it,’ Sean said.
‘I’m sorry for being such an idiot,’ Marlowe said as we collected our things and made our way out of the room. ‘If I knew you were going to abandon your plans on a Thursday night I never would have done this…’
‘Oh please,’ I said. ‘I left Charlie watching sport and he’s probably on the sofa right now, sitting in his pants.’
‘And I’ve turned over a new leaf since I started the business,’ Amber said, proudly. ‘So you’ve really only interrupted my tax return.’ She leant over and whispered quietly into Marlowe’s ear, ‘There’s a new man on the scene. For real this time, no playing games. His name is Mitch and it’s even verging on something serious.’
Marlowe squeezed Amber’s hand as she left.
‘But give the poor guy a year,’ Sean said drily, ‘and he’ll probably be where you are now, Mars. Tied to a drip… can’t go on…’
And in the darkest way possible she laughed, we all laughed. And despite the coldness of our surroundings, it was the warmest thing we’d done together in a long time.
As the others left I walked over to the bed and kissed her forehead. ‘You’re not on your own,’ I whispered to her. ‘Remember that.’
‘I hope she’s going to be okay,’ Amber said, linking arms with Sean.
‘She’ll be fine,’ I said, as we piled into the large silver lift and descended to our own lives. ‘She just can’t do it all on her own.’
I hugged them both goodbye as they got into a taxi and made my way to find the nearest tube. As I walked through the night air I thought about something that had occurred to me in the lift. It seemed that true friendship was just a continuation of relays, passing the baton of help back and forth depending on which one of you needed it. Suddenly, a persistent car horn pulled me from my thoughts and stopped me in my tracks. I turned to see a black car parked against the kerb outside of the hospital. It was Charlie.
‘Well, I didn’t know if you had your phone on you,’ he said, winding down the window. ‘So I thought it best to just wait here.’
I climbed into the car and could feel the warmth of the dashboard heater across my face. And just like that the car pulled away and we drove back to our home and back to our ordinary life. I reached over and held his hand: uneventful and even mundane at times. How lucky we both were.
Sean arrived home to find Henry in the midst of cooking up spaghetti bolognaise. A bottle of red wine was already left open on the side and the sound of music could be heard from the kitchen.
‘In here,’ Henry shouted, turning down the radio.
Sean gave him a small smile and began taking off his coat. Secretly he had gotten used to the idea of Henry being there when he got home.
‘You okay?’ Henry said.
‘Relieved.’
‘How was she?’
‘Not good,’ he said, wrapping his arms around Henry’s shoulders.
Henry sighed. ‘It’s just hard for some people, I guess… life.’
‘Yep,’ Sean nodded, taking a spoonful of the tomato sauce on the stove. ‘Hmmm… delicious,’ he said, holding out the spoon for Henry to try. Their relationship was always so physical, so tactile. But in the light of what had happened, Henry pulled away.
‘So tell me about it then...’ he said.
‘I don’t know what to say. It’s awful. She took an overdose. And we didn’t even notice as to why: not us, not her parents, not even her husband. And that’s it. Full story.’
Henry nodded. ‘Have you ever been in a serious relationship?’
Sean hesitated and then nodded.
‘Who was he?’
‘His name was Paul.’
‘And you’re not together anymore?’
Sean smiled. ‘Obviously not.’
‘Come on,’ Henry said. ‘I want you to tell me about Paul.’
‘You know, you are looking so… good right now,’ Sean said pulling Henry’s waist towards him.
‘Stop that,’ Henry said.
‘Stop what?’ Sean said, defensively.
‘Stop using sex to get away from actually talking to me.’
Sean was overwhelmed. After the day he’d had he wanted to keep things light and have a little fun, but here he was under a wave of questions from Henry. All of a sudden he felt trapped. How was a mere fling, standing up to him in his kitchen, probing a little too deeply, trying to knock him off his perch.
‘What do you want me to say?’ Sean said, stuttering. He could feel his neck reddening.
‘I want to know you, Sean. Like, really get to know you.’
‘Henry,’ Sean said, exasperated. ‘I like you but this is all just a little too much for me right now. I don’t know. Maybe you should just go home.’
‘You want me to go home?’ Henry said.
‘Yes.’ Sean undid the top buttons of his shirt so he could breathe. ‘I think that would for the best.’
Henry looked at him, stunned.
‘Well…okay,’ he said, turning the light off from under the pan on the stove. ‘If that’s what you want.’
As Henry began putting on his coat Sean looked over at him. He actually cared. And it was terrifying.
‘Wait,’ Sean said as he reached the door.
Henry turned back to look at him.
‘So what do you want to know?’
‘I want you to tell me about Paul…’
As he looked into Henry’s eyes, Sean relented. After all, it was harder to let someone in than to push them away. For the rest of tha
t night they sat together at the kitchen table, eating bowls full of Henry’s spaghetti bolognaise as Sean told him about Paul, the fact he died far too young in a car crash, about his love for navy blue jumpers and dachshunds. For the first time, Sean was underwater, submerged in the thought of somebody new. But maybe, he thought to himself, it was finally time to stop fighting the tide and just give in to the strength of the current.
SPRING
Chapter Twenty – The Magical Hour
Up to that point, I suppose complacency had kept us going. Without the ability to see behind closed doors we marched on, glazed over the cracks, lost each other in various distractions, as if we hadn’t bothered to look closely enough at what was really there. She was there – and if it hadn’t happened, we may have looked up to find one day that she wasn’t. They should be called unwanted necessities. Of course we don’t want these things to happen, but in the greater scheme of things it’s somewhat necessary to pull you back to life.
It was officially spring, and the events of the past few weeks had forced us to look at our interior priorities. In a landslide of miscommunication on our part and an emotional decline on others’, we knew the tonic lay within each other as we attempted to pull our friendship from the wreckage. Together, we had entered the Magical Hour, the mysterious aftermath that follows in the wake of something terrible. I knew that life, however fragile, might just be the seamless effects of magic. An extraordinary force that works its way into our lives, influencing what had happened, bringing with it a sense of purpose – it already existed inside of us, all we had to do was listen:
To the heart: the beating of the want inside you.
The brain: the thought behind the desire.
Belief: the possibility in the unseen.
Our want: the motive behind the struggle.
Our will: the strength to endure it.
Their personality: the elements that make up the person.
Our awareness: the consideration of everything around.
The signs: the glistening markers that pinpoint the way.
The physics: the law of effort and time.
The attraction: the force that drives us there.
Our love: and all the things we live for.
Love, and Other Things to Live For Page 21