More to Life Than This

by Carole Matthews

  ‘Can we be just friends?’ she asked, snuggling against him.

  ‘No,’ he said sadly, tightening his hold on her. ‘I don’t think we can.’

  chapter 36

  ‘Oh, shit,’ Jeffrey said quietly. He wasn’t sure what was worse—the terrified screams or the livid orange paintwork. His eyes followed the twisting tubular track to the top. It looked an awfully long way up. But at least it meant that you couldn’t see the fear on the victims’ faces. He wiped his palms together. They were sweating. Profusely. OBLIVION, the sign said. The world’s first vertical-drop rollercoaster.

  Why was he allowing himself to be coerced into queuing up to go on this? he wondered. Last week he had baulked at climbing a gentle one hundred and seventy steps to the pinnacle of the Bridgewater Monument—and now here he was, preparing to be hurtled at 4.5 Gs over a sheer drop into a yawning chasm of a hole strapped to nothing more substantial than a theatre seat. What’s more, he had been queuing systematically since seven o’clock this Friday morning, when they had set out on this pursuit of folly.

  He had queued along the motorway, he had queued again to park, then to part with the best part of a hundred and twenty quid for the four of them and now he was queuing up for a white-knuckle ride, just before he probably queued up to vomit.

  The last time he had visited Alton Towers was as a boy on a school trip. There had been no lavish theme park then, just pleasant gardens, a rundown house and a half-hearted attempt at a cable car ride that went all of two hundred yards. By the time you had queued it was quicker to walk. So some things never change. The only thrill he had got was from snogging Janet Eccleston (she of the hand-up-the-skirt incident) behind a beautiful purple rhododendron bush, which had fostered a lifelong aversion to kissing in public and a lifelong love of gardening.

  Kerry and Joe were delirious. They had turned from wannabe pensioners into unruly adolescents overnight and he wondered what Kate would think of the sudden transformation. A bit of illicit bunking off had clearly unleashed their wild side. He didn’t think the children had been taken out of school before in the pursuit of pure pleasure. Kate was very firm about that sort of thing. But then again, so was he. Usually. Natalie had once again phoned Hills & Hopeland to break the glad tiding that their most loyal employee was shunning his Excel spreadsheet in favour of a little self-inflicted fear. He’d never bunked off work before this week, and this certainly couldn’t be called the pursuit of pleasure for him. What was it then? The pursuit of Natalie?

  He looked at the object of his desire and she gave his hand a quick squeeze, which made him sweat even more. Jeffrey surveyed the scene. The piercing screams at regular fifteen-second intervals (yes, he was counting) were jarring his nerves to well beyond previous levels of endurance. There was a minimum height requirement for OBLIVION which meant that there were several very short and disappointed children wailing at their distraught-looking parents. If only they knew how lucky they were! Couldn’t these people put a maximum age limit or a blood-pressure monitor on this thing, to save him the embarrassment of bottling out? Jeffrey pushed his glasses onto his nose, a nervous tic he seemed to be developing nicely, and read the warning poster at the entrance to the ride:

  Please be absolutely sure you wish to proceed. We do advise that you do not try to analyse what you are about to experience. As you will eventually come to realise, sometimes ignorance is preferable to absolute knowledge. What we do guarantee is that once you leave, you will never be quite the same again.

  Jeffrey felt himself go pale. Very bloody encouraging.

  There was a gaping concrete tunnel where the queue for OBLIVION snaked out. Kerry and Joe, bouncing excitedly, took him by the hands and dragged him to join the tail. Was it unseemly for a grown man to have a temper tantrum? He probably would have dug his heels in the ground if it hadn’t been solid black tarmac. Natalie was bouncing excitedly, too, a sight that was particularly disturbing to the equilibrium.

  He distracted himself by staring fixedly at a bank of video screens flashing rapid disjointed images and playing the sort of loud repetitive music that could only be enjoyed if you were dropping E—or so he imagined.

  ‘What does oblivion mean?’ Joe asked.

  What indeed? Wasn’t that what he was heading for—oblivion? A state of complete forgetfulness, tumbling down a long dark tunnel somewhere between dream and reality, the end of existence as he knew it.

  ‘It means you get totally wasted,’ Natalie responded enthusiastically, when Jeffrey failed to speak.

  Joe’s eyes lit up. ‘Great!’

  Great.

  A man with a dark collarless suit and a sombre expression popped up on the video screen. ‘Welcome,’ he said. ‘You have been designated for oblivion. The decision to come here was not your own.’

  Too right, mate, Jeffrey agreed. The decision to come here was taken by a very fanciable and fearless young Australian woman with the backing of two born-again delinquents. This was possibly the last place on earth he wanted to be—with the possible exception of Milton Keynes shopping centre on a Saturday afternoon.

  ‘This will be the ride of your life, during which you will free fall face-first into blackness.’

  Oh goody.

  ‘A free-falling object is something which falls under the sole influence of gravity.’

  He could feel Natalie close to him, the pressure of her arm lightly against his. That’s what he was, a free-falling object, but under the sole influence of Natalie, who was a stronger force than anything as wimpish as gravity. Since he had first clapped eyes on her, something within him had felt seriously out of control, hurtling helplessly towards danger.

  ‘Unfortunately,’ the be-suited man continued tonelessly, ‘in this instance, that object will be YOU.’ There was a malevolent smirk on his face and Jeffrey noticed that his mouth had gone dry.

  The video showed a ticker-tape sequence of a bright red ball falling downwards. ‘Free-falling objects accelerate as they plummet downwards,’ the man informed them. Elementary physics, Jeffrey reasoned with a spark of calm superiority. To illustrate the point the ball dropped faster and faster, until it hit the ground and cannoned off the screen. ‘It is a pity—’ the unctuous smile was back ‘—that, unlike the ball, people don’t bounce back.’

  Jeffrey felt a cold trickle of sweat worm its way down his spine.

  ‘In fact, if Newton’s second law of gravity is applied to your predicament, it could mean you are about to be trashed’ A pleasant grin.

  Very elementary physics. Could the same thing be said about his marriage? Was that about to be trashed too, if he continued this dangerous and risky free fall?

  He looked at Nat’s beautiful face and her mane of messed-up blonde hair with an expression of extreme anxiety. There was a loud beeping noise and the word anxiety flashed in vibrant red letters on the screen. Jeffrey looked round him suspiciously. Natalie smiled encouragingly and they shuffled forward in the queue, edging towards the next bank of video screens and ten paces nearer to OBLIVION.

  ‘You’ll be all right, Jeffers,’ she winked.

  The screams continued unabated.

  The next video sequence spiralled onto the screens. ‘In stressful situations like this, the body’s fight or flight response system is activated. Muscles tense, heart rate speeds up and there is an increase in body temperature.’

  There were all sorts of muscles tensing which shouldn’t have been, and Jeffrey’s heart rate was about to shoot off the Richter scale.

  ‘For those about to descend into oblivion, extreme anxiety may even cause spontaneous combustion.’ A whirling skull on the screen graphically burst into flames. ‘Make sure you are wearing flameproof underwear.’ The man smirked.

  Jeffrey was wearing the underwear that Natalie had bought him, complete with tortoiseshell buttons.

  ‘Daddy.’ Joe was kicking the barrier in a way that said his patience was wearing thin, the thought of experiencing extreme anxiety or being trashed simply sliding
off his slender ten-year-old shoulders. ‘I want to be on it now.’

  ‘We’re nearly there,’ Jeffrey assured him. ‘Just hang on for a bit longer.’

  Why couldn’t he take his own advice? All he had to do was hang on for a bit longer and Natalie would be gone from his life, back to Jessica’s house and the goldfish and the gerbils. And Kate, his wife, his love, would be safely home from her T’ai Chi course and, like Dr Death in the video here, he would revert from a heaving mass of flame into a calm man in a sensible suit once again.

  ‘Have you ever suffered from vertigo?’ He was beginning to want to hit this bloke. ‘Do you suffer from acrophobia, the fear of heights?’

  He had all sorts of fears these days. Some irrational, some less so. Fear of getting old, fear of losing his hair, fear of losing his job, fear of staying in the same job for ever, fear of never hearing the word promotion, fear of Kate finding out that Natalie had been buying him underwear.

  ‘Typical acrophobic symptoms are accelerated heartbeat, churning stomach, sweating palms and dizziness.’

  It sounded a lot like being besotted with an Australian au pair. ‘After experiencing oblivion, some people may want to wipe the event from their memory. We should point out that you may have to relive it in your mind over and over and over and over…’

  The man on the video shrank to a little dot, to be replaced by whorling patterns that reminded Jeffrey of a Spirograph he had had when he was a boy. They had reached the top of the tunnel now and were almost at the start of the ride. The breeze was funnelling towards them, cooling his heated face, but the screams were significantly louder.

  ‘Fuck,’ Jeffrey sighed to himself.

  DON’T LOOK DOWN! warned a big orange sign. He ignored it and looked down at Natalie. They had reached the edge of OBLIVION. Where did they go from here, apart from down?

  Back on the video the spiralling images had been replaced, once again, by the same man, who looked distinctly more demonic this time. ‘Everything has been designed for your comfort,’ his sugary voice teased. ‘This ride is perfectly safe.’ A little man in white popped up on his shoulder. The good side. The voice of reason. ‘If it is safe, why is it called oblivion?’ he asked in fear.

  It echoed Jeffrey’s sentiments perfectly.

  The alter ego continued, his voice rising to a shrill pitch: ‘Have you ever seen anyone who’s survived it and come out the other side?’

  Sneer. ‘It is natural to have slight feelings of anxiety at this point. Just relax and prepare for a pleasurable experience. There is no cause for concern.’

  There was cause for concern. There was a wonderful wife to consider and two lovely children. Two children who were now hopping innocently from foot to foot in anticipation. Jeffrey smoothed his damp palms down the sides of his jeans.

  ‘Have you heard the screams?’ the voice of reason asked. The beat of the music quickened and the queue jostled forward. Eager.

  ‘This ride is perfectly safe,’ the dark-suited man repeated smugly.

  ‘How do you know?’ There was panic in the other man’s voice. How indeed? Jeffrey thought. It was a step, once taken, that couldn’t be undone. You had to live with the knowledge that you had fallen, face-first, for ever.

  They were at the front of the queue now. Jeffrey turned round, the crowd behind him pushing him forward. There was no way out. Natalie was grinning from ear to ear, displaying teeth galore, unaware that this ride meant so much more to him than she could imagine. The children were ahead of him, their bright smiling faces now slightly tinged with fear.

  ‘Ooo,’ Kerry said worriedly and Joe looked suspiciously as if he wanted his teddy bear, Mr Growly, the one he pretended he didn’t need any more.

  Jeffrey was herded into his seat with a hefty push by a man in an orange jumpsuit. He could hear his breath labouring in his chest, like it did when he was climbing the long steep hill up the eighteenth hole at the golf course, heading back to the sanctuary of the clubhouse.

  The smug man was speaking again. ‘Just sit back and enjoy the experience.’ He smirked.

  It was easy for him to say. Did he have family commitments? A bright orange harness was clamped unceremoniously over Jeffrey’s head. His fingers trembled.

  ‘This is it!’ the panic-stricken man on the video yelled. ‘You’re nearly at the point of no return.’ He knew that. He had known it all the time, from the moment he had first met her. ‘Are you sure you want to continue?’ What else could he do? He was being pushed inexorably towards the edge. His brain told him he shouldn’t be doing this, but when he opened his mouth to say so, nothing came out.

  ‘Hasta la vista, baby! Goodnight, Vienna!’

  Clunk. They were all fastened in, sixteen people suddenly gone very quiet.

  ‘Get out now while you still can!’

  There was no getting out. It was already too late. Far too late. Not seconds, not minutes, but six days too late.

  ‘Have a pleasant trip.’ The dark side had won. He was heading off on a course that he couldn’t stop.

  There was a churning of hidden machinery and, with a jolt that sent shock waves up his spine, the ride chugged out of its station, climbing steadily to the summit high above them and vertiginously high above the ground. Jeffrey’s jowls juddered; he hadn’t realised until now that he even had jowls.

  By the time they reached the top, he was gasping for breath. Natalie’s smile didn’t waver and there was an expression of utter glee on her perfect features. Her hair floated magnificently on the wind. Only the excessive raising of her eyebrows showed any hint of fright. The two rows of theater seats jerked to a sudden stop, perched on the very edge of nothingness. One minute he had been looking at a cloudless blue sky, now he was face-down towards a gaping black hole and Jeffrey wondered briefly exactly what was, or wasn’t, holding them up.

  There was smoke billowing copiously from the hole in the ground. ‘Oh my good God,’ he said in breathless awe, ‘it’s on fire.’ His fingers gripped the safety bar. ‘It’s on fire and no one’s noticed. They’re going to drop us into it.’

  ‘It’s a special effect, Dad,’ Joe assured him through chattering teeth. ‘It’s supposed to be there.’ He clutched at his orange harness, his breath coming in shorter pants than the ones he wore to school. ‘Just chill out, Dad.’

  Chill out. He looked at his daughter. Kerry’s face was white, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly like a goldfish. And what of him? The terror had numbed him. There was no feeling in his arms. His eyes were dry, his hands wet. His teeth were stuck to his lips.

  Natalie placed her hand on his arm and looked him squarely in the eye. ‘It’ll be all right, Jeffers. You won’t come to any harm. I promise you.’

  At that moment, he would have believed anything she told him. He looked at his hands, rigid with tension, gripping the flimsy-looking bar that was the only thing protecting him from certain death as a squished mess on the ground. His knuckles, as promised, were white. There was a moment of intense peace and acceptance, before his stomach shot to his feet and his brain rattled violently in his skull. It was only a matter of time before the screaming started. This truly was the point of no return.

  As they were launched over the edge into OBLIVION, Natalie turned to him and in a matter-of-fact way said, ‘Just don’t look down.’

  chapter 37

  Kate was standing with her hands resting on her tummy, her eyes resting on Ben.

  ‘Circle the hands slowly round the Tan-Tien, just below the navel,’ Sam instructed. ‘It should be a small physical movement, all the work is going on deep within your belly. Feel the growing warmth, hold it inside.’

  She had been feeling warm all week without the need to circle her Tan-Tien. There was a burning at the back of her neck and a feverish flush to her cheeks.

  ‘The fire element,’ Sam said, ‘is possibly the hardest to harness. It represents heat, desire, passion and joy. If we have an imbalance in this area it can become out of control, literally, sp
reading like wildfire inside us. The problem is that it then consumes us and leads to burnout.’ He glanced at several of the men in the group, including Ben. ‘All you high-flying executives have been warned!’

  And what about us neglected housewives? Kate thought. What do we do if we’ve got a raging fire inside us that won’t be harnessed? Fire might represent joy as well as passion, but how could she feel happy when today was the last day of the course—the last day she would spend with Ben? Sam had said that in the cycle of life, fire could be overcome by the water element. Would returning to the shallow puddle of her life quell the flames that had been fanned within her?

  ‘Are you feeling hot?’ Sam asked them all.

  Very hot, thank you, Sam. The rest of the class nodded dutifully.

  ‘Let’s finish there,’ he said. ‘Keep that joy inside of you for the rest of the afternoon and we can unleash it at the end-of-course party tonight! And now let’s bow out to each other.’ Right fist, left palm. I mean you no harm.

  The group disbanded, wandering off to collect scattered belongings deposited under the shade of convenient trees. Ben fell in step beside her as Kate headed back towards the priory.

  ‘You look subdued,’ he said.

  ‘Yes—I’m sad that the course has ended so soon.’

  ‘And you still haven’t found the meaning of life?’

  ‘No.’ But I’ve found someone who would give my life meaning. Does that count?

  ‘The party should be fun.’ Ben looked as downhearted as she did, but at least he was putting a brave face on it.

  ‘Yes,’ she answered without enthusiasm.

  ‘Someone’s bought a cake.’

  ‘Nice.’

  ‘And sparklers.’

  ‘Very nice.’

  He tilted her chin with his finger. ‘Don’t be sad,’ he said. ‘Not on our last night together. I’ll wait for you at the front of the priory.’ He looked to her for confirmation. ‘About seven?’