Come Not When I Am Dead

by R. A. England

  “What the fuck have you done?” Jo was in the hall, alone, waiting for me

  “how do you know?” I’m whispering

  “It’s alright, he’s in the shower. You prat Gussie, you can’t fucking miss it. I don’t think he knows though. What a fucking mess. You stupid fucking prat.”

  “What do you know? What do you think you know?”

  “Just tell me. You’ve been seeing the vet haven’t you? And two-timing him with soldier boy”

  “don’t call him that”

  “two-timing him with Edward”

  “whisper Jo. What am I going to do? What do I do now? Tell me. Have I messed it up?” and I dropped on to the bottom stair, heavy and heartless and I heard Edward shout from upstairs “I’m having a shower.” He didn’t sound real. He’s just a pretend thing. “You can’t take it out on him. It’s not his fault” Jo sat by my side on the stair

  “I’m not”

  “yes you are, I can see it in your face. I think you should tell me all about it now. Poor old thing, poor old stupid thing” and she took her efag out of her mouth and patted me on the back. Poor sweet baby.

  Chapter 15

  Make me fall. Make a wall tumble. Make the skies darken. Make something real happen, real so we can react to it. I don’t understand this.

  “What do I do?” I said to Jo, pounding, pounding, pounding in my head “what do I do?”

  “Tell me” she said, and I did

  “Make it better” I wanted to say “make it better.” I wanted to spit and kick. I want to heal things and I want to ruin things. I want to be here to understand, but I don’t understand, but I should.

  And when Edward came downstairs again I couldn’t say anything to him, but he was so full of my family, so full of Jim, so full of Charlie that I don’t think he noticed anything was wrong. It’s not his fault. Of course it’s not his fault. When we went to bed he made love to me, and I let him.

  “Will you come fishing then with me this morning?” he was lying behind me, curled up into my body, stroking the side of my face, loving me. “Fishing?”

  “I told you. Your friend Charlie’s asked me fishing this morning, I thought we could both go”

  “Charlie? You certainly didn’t tell me. You want to go fishing with Charlie? You are joking?” my body reeling, turning into him, snake hissing at him.

  “I noticed this yesterday Gussie, you don’t like him do you? What’s he done then to earn your distaste?”

  “It’s not that”

  “what is it then?”

  “Don’t go” I turned around in the bed, shuffled into place, warm and soft and faced him and held his face, our two naked bodies feeding off each other’s warmth “don’t go. Spend the day with me.” I don’t like you anymore I was thinking this has ended I was thinking this is a game now, a horrible, stupid game.

  “But I’ve said I would. Tell me why. Why don’t you like him?” he is delicate, he shuffles himself a little away from me, all the greater to observe me. “I don’t. He’s not very nice. He hasn’t been very nice to me” I am a liar

  “what’s he done?”

  “Oh Edward, I don’t know, it’s a long time ago, I don’t want to talk about it. But please don’t go”

  “you come with me then” I feel frustration building up within me, I feel scribbles and harsh lines in my head. “NO. Just don’t go” my temper is short.

  “Gussie, you’re being weird. Tell me. Tell me or else I will go” and his foot is down

  “You’ll go will you? You’ll go from my house, out fishing with a ‘friend’ of mine and not listen to anything I say? Are you that fucking crass?” and he was silent, it was the swear word that did it. He’s one of those men who don’t like women to swear in anger. Tick, tick, tick…..The look he turned on me was scorn. He got out of bed and got dressed in honourable silence “Edward please don’t go” I am a snake, a snake in the grass, a snake in the bed, I hate this manipulation. I hate it.

  “You’re making me feel Gussie that there’s more to this than you’re telling me. What’s going on?” what do I say? What can I say? I feel it all slipping through my fingers

  “Nothing’s going on. Please don’t go though”

  “I’m most definitely going”

  “EDWARD, DON’T YOU DARE GO” I shouted, furious as he went through my bedroom door down the stairs to the kitchen. And I scrabbled up out of my bed, propelled by this burning hot rage. I grabbed his shirt and tied it around my body. I ran to Jo’s room, cold toes, frightened, frantic, trip, trip, trip, tick, tick, tick. Poor old Jo, half awake. I switched her light on, opened the curtains and I shook her shoulder “Jo, come on, get up. Jo, wake up. You have to go. Jo please.” And I dragged this bleary-eyed friend of mine out of her bed, her great long nighty twisted around her knees. “Please hurry up Jo, hurry up, Edward’s going fishing with Charlie, please Jo, will you follow them?” I am a dog weeing on the carpet. I helped her get dressed, pushed her this way and that, grabbed her clothes from the floor as she snarled at me, tired and sleepy, but she did go. Too many seconds, tick, tick, ticking in time to my galloping heart. “I would do the same for you Jo.”

  “I know you would, but I wouldn’t be so fucking stupid in the first place.” I know, I know.

  But should I go? I can’t go, they’d see me or my car, it’s too risky. But I should go I thought as in my haste, through the noise of my head I heard Edward’s car start up and saw him driving up the track, careful around the potholes. “Park your car in the lay-by around the corner from theirs and just follow the river upstream. Keep in the trees and just watch them. Can you just watch them Jo? And make sure it’s all OK?”. Is this love or fear or self preservation, what is most important? I don’t know. Don’t let me be caught, don’t let either of them lose respect for me. Look after me. Let nothing be destroyed. “How the fuck can I do that, they’ll bloody well see me won’t they?”

  “just keep in the trees” like a deer I’m thinking, lurking deep and dark and shadowed, all-seeing eyes “but just watch them. I need to know. What do you think will happen? Will Charlie tell Edward? Jo? What do you think, will he tell him?”

  “I don’t fucking know. Probably. How should I know? You’re a bloody prat. Go and put some fucking clothes on, you’re freaking me out dressed like that.” I know I’m a bloody prat. I know what will happen, I know that Charlie will tell Edward about us. I am a blue bottle in a jar, ugly and ungainly, banging away at the glass, dirty and vulnerable in my stupid captivity too large and cumbersome to fly. Too stupid. All wrong. And is the fear because I have no control over this? I don’t know.

  Half an hour, that’s how long it will take her to get to the river, no, longer because she doesn’t know the route, say forty minutes. And how long will they be fishing for? No time at all if Charlie tells him straight away. But maybe he won’t tell him right away. And they have to say hello, get down to business, fishing or talking. And why would Charlie ask him? Why? If not to tell him? Of course he will tell him. So, let’s say forty minutes one way, twenty minutes there and thirty minutes back again. One and a half hours. And I work it out again. And I write it down just to make sure. And I check the time again. I tried to paint but I couldn’t, I snapped my brushes and ripped up my paper. I scratched the table with my pen and broke the nib. I smoked too many cigars. I couldn’t keep still. I couldn’t keep still. I called Jo again and again but there is no signal by the river, I know that. Stupid fingers on the keys, futile and fumbling. I tried to read but I could not read. I couldn’t concentrate. Someone came to the house and I hid behind the kitchen cupboards, I cannot talk to anyone. I checked the clock and my mobile phone and checked the clock again and again. Checked it in different rooms. It has been two hours, two and a half hours, three hours. I don’t know what will happen. I lay down in the garden, on my back and tried to distract myself with grass. I tried but I cannot wank. I went to see Sergeant, but he flew frantically about his aviary disturbed at my unease. And my p
hone rang and every call that came I cut off right away just in case Jo tried to call me. I tried to eat but my food was dry in my mouth and I couldn’t swallow it. I drank coke and it tasted like poison. I pinched my arm to see if I could feel. And then Jo came back “you’ve been ages. What happened?”

  “you’re not going to like this.” I was sitting on the edge of a chair in the kitchen, trying to be calm, my breathing heavy, trying not to cry, I know what it is, I am thinking about myself, and only myself. She turned her back on me to take off her jacket and put it on the kitchen door hook, rounded and fat with years of white emulsion. Make me understand it. “Just tell me quickly. I’m so frightened.” Or maybe don’t tell me, it has happened, whatever has happened has happened and I can’t do anything about it. Maybe just leave me to myself. Maybe just let me sleep and forget them. Maybe just don’t talk to me I am thinking. “I found them and I kept in the trees hidden and all they were doing was fishing. I don’t think Charlie’s a very good fisherman is he?”

  “It doesn’t matter. What happened?” I was shaking, my fingers running all over the table, this way, that way, in time to the tiny breaths I was taking. “It was all fine and they were a bit apart from each other, then Charlie went through the river to Edward and, I just couldn’t hear above the river, it’s so bloody noisy but I could hear his voice raised. Then he sort of got hold of Edward”

  “what do you mean? Grabbed him?”

  “well, he definitely had his hands on his shoulders and I couldn’t quite make it out. I was trying to move round the trees to see clearly. And I’m so sorry Gussie. I’m so sorry, but I had an alert on my phone”

  “but there’s no signal there”

  “well, that’s what I thought, but I got a text and I just had to go back to my car to put a trade on”

  “No!”

  “I was gone for five minutes, that’s all, maybe not even that. But when I got back they weren’t there.”

  “But why did you go? You were supposed to be watching them.” Is this dread real? I was holding on to the table. I wanted to be sick. My body was aching, aching so much. My shoulders hurt. I stood up and walked around the kitchen. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone. I’m sorry. I’ve let you down.”

  “What happened then?”

  “I looked for them up river, I walked all the way to the top, there’s a little island up there and fencing across, so I reckoned that was the end of your bit. Then I walked all the way down and didn’t see them anywhere. I walked all the way up again and back but I couldn’t see them so I gave up and came home. I’m sorry Gussie and when I got back to the road Charlie’s car had gone but Edward’s was still there.”

  “But why would Charlie go and not Edward? Do you think they were fighting? Do you think Charlie started a fight with Edward?”

  “I don’t know. It looked like he was fighting, or starting a fight, but I don’t know, they could have been dancing for all I know”

  “that’s hardly likely. Oh for fuck’s sake Jo. Do you really think they were fighting? And if they had a fight why would Edward’s car still be there? Do you think maybe Charlie beat him up? He wouldn’t be able to though would he? He’s not as strong as Edward, and Edward’s a soldier, he must be good at fighting. I think that Charlie wouldn’t fight fair though. I can’t imagine him fighting fair.”

  “I don’t know. I am sorry Gussie, Charlie had one of those things in his hand that they smack fish on the head with.”

  “In his hand or attached to his waders?”

  “In his hand” the last water of a bath, swirling down the plug hole

  “Do you know what that’s called? It’s called a ‘priest’ because of it’s ability to kill mercifully.”

  There were no cars there when I got to the river. I was remembering standing outside the headmistresses office at school, knowing I’d done something wrong, but not knowing what it was. Not knowing how to prepare myself for it. It’s that that I dread, a coming storm and having to look after myself. I walked up and down the river and saw nothing of either of them. It’s my fucking river, not Charlie’s. And I walked along the beach with no name to see if there was blood, or a big sign up saying ‘fight happened here’. There is nothing. There was nothing. No birds to whisper a tune of death or violence, but two otters leapt into the river and swam away from me. A heron shrieked at me and heavily heaved himself up, up, up into the skies. And a fawn tucked away in the fallen branches, silent and sweet waiting for it’s mother. As soon as I could, I got back to my car and drove until I had reception and phoned Edward. But it went straight to voicemail. I phoned Charlie and he did have reception but I think he cut me off. I rang him again and then it went straight to voicemail too.

  Chapter 16

  When I got home I went up to my room and lay on my bed. I stared up at the ceiling. And then Coningsby came in to the room crying. There’s something the matter with her, she’s sitting on the bed now looking just ‘not right’. I can’t work out what it is. She’s been snotty on and off for ages now, but she had her two-monthly snot jabs last week and now she’s still snotty, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. She sat on my lap for ages, it was beautiful, but she never does that. I hugged her close to me. “Coningsby will you be OK? Will I be OK? What’s going on darling? I sat her on my bed to study her and she hasn’t moved. She looks very tired and I thought a minute ago that she was going to fall over sideways, but she didn’t. I’ve tried Charlie again on his mobile, but no answer, I just wanted to say “I don’t care about you. I don’t care about me. But it’s Coningsby. she’s not going to die is she? She’ll never die will she?” Nothing else is important now. I don’t care about any of it. But I need him to feel my need. I have to have reassurance, because there’s something wrong here. I know she’s almost 18, but she’ll go on forever. And my head hurts now with worry.

  It is the next day, Friday. I have heard nothing from Edward and nothing from Charlie. There are Edward’s clothes on my clothes horse and his shoes by my bed, his smell in my room, but he’s not here. I took Coningsby to the vets this afternoon, and I saw Charlie’s car leave the car park as I drove in. Why can’t he feel what I can feel?

  Coningsby is very ill. It’s her kidneys. It is not good. I’m frightened. This is real. I know that this is real.

  Saturday. Coningsby is a lot worse. I know she is dying. I’m so frightened. I’m so very, very frightened.

  In the evening we went to the river, just me and her for a lovely outing, like we used to do, something exciting. We sat on the steps together watching the fish and just being together and then spent the night in the hut. I know she is going to die. I don’t want to lose her. I’m so frightened of losing her.

  Sunday. Coningsby was put to sleep this afternoon. I have lost her. I have lost love. I have lost my best friend. I feel my power has left me and I am a shell.

  Chapter 17

  I am with Charlie by the river. I am half the person I was. I am not even half, I feel a fraction of the person I was. Hurt and empty I feel. He is looking after me, we are trying to understand what happened. I am trying to be real. He is trying to forgive me. I do not have that forgiveness in me. I cannot say “what happened with Edward the other day Charlie?” because I don’t have the right to ask. I expect to be trampled upon, I would trample on me, but only to teach me a lesson. “It was a terrible breach of trust” his words fall like boulders into shallow pools, his face looks straight ahead and his eyes turned away from me, looking deep down in to the river. I held his hand on his knee, he did not hold mine but neither did he take his from me. There is a way, to understand or to feel, I understand only too well but I don’t know if I feel. “But Charlie, you are married.” I am quiet and trying to lull him in to loving me once more “you are married and I haven’t got anyone. I want love and companionship and I want a baby.” I don’t want companionship, I don’t think I do, that was a lie. I’m choosing my words carefully, but they are still wrong. “Have you tried with him?”<
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  “No. I promise I haven’t.” that is the truth.

  “You went out of your way to deceive me Gussie, you’ve been lying to me, but you came into this relationship with your eyes open, you knew about my wife.”

  “I know” I am ripping my flesh open and spreading my insides for him to see, to sully and destroy and trample upon so that he will feel better. I don’t care about me. “How can I trust you again?” he says to me

  “I don’t know.” I see light, I am hoping he will forgive me, I am hoping he will love me again. “It will take a long time to heal, you have done a great deal of damage.”