Escaping The Shadows Anthology: Shenanigans'19 @ The West Midlands Book Signing.

by Maria Lazarou

  “She’s not really here,” Marc surprises me as we walk down to the car. She puts Isabel on her hip, and waves her free hand. “She’s everywhere, Heart. In the wind, in the trees, in the air that we breathe. She’s always looked after you, after us.”

  Her first statement had worried me, her second takes all doubts away. A simple chin lift in her direction to signify that she’s right.

  Closure? That’s what I expected to get from today, instead I’ve found balance. How to live with what happened, how to move forward. I’m lucky to have a woman by my side who acknowledges all of me. Who doesn’t feel she needs to compete with a ghost.

  This visit to the grave wasn’t an ending, but a beginning. A fusion of my past with my future.

  I’m no longer a man with a broken heart. I’ve been healed, mended.

  Surviving Me

  By

  Sienna Grant

  Blurb

  Life isn’t something to take for granted, although we all do it.

  Ignoring problems whether they be big or small doesn’t help to make it go away, in fact it only makes it harder to face.

  Depression, stress, is the silent killer… but there’s always a place to turn. Somewhere to reach out when you’re in dire need.

  How does a man who’s never relied on anyone in his life reach out for help when it’s his life on the line?

  Chapter One

  Simon

  Swinging my heavy legs around, I set my bare feet flat on the floor, letting the coolness of the laminate wake me up. Dropping my elbows to my knees and smooth my fingertips over my tired eyes, rubbing the sleep away, before standing from the bed. Opening the curtains with a heavy sigh, the saying, ‘same shit - different day’, comes to mind as I look out into the dawn of the early morning light. It’s brighter than normal from the hard frost that’s laying on the ground, covering everything, painting a postcard type of picture…. another world even. I wish I was in another world or even in someone else’s shoes. A different life, that would be good - at least I wouldn’t feel like the total loser I do right now.

  “Simon?” Evie, my wife of five years calls up the stairs, breaking me from my own pity party. “Your coffee is down here, babe.”

  “Coming,” I call back just loud enough for her to hear me. I used to love how happy she sounds. She could brighten my whole day with just her voice. I didn’t need to see her beautiful smile, now though, nothing has the ability to do those things, the guilt eats away at me. Pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, I go into the bathroom, starting up the shower to get ready for my day.

  I walk through the living room and stop at the doorway and prop my shoulder against the frame watching her as she works her way around our kitchen, cleaning up after herself as she makes breakfast. It’s only a small kitchen, modest, decorated in black and white. When we were looking to buy a house, we only wanted something small. We’ve never tried to live beyond our means, but over the last couple of years things had got a little harder. The bills have got higher over the years and with the kids, we’ve had to tighten the purse strings a little more. I don’t want Evie to have to worry, so I’ve tried to keep it from her, she worries enough. I do way more hours at work than I should, even working weekends when I should be at home spending quality time with my little family. She doesn’t see the amount of overdue bills that keep flying through the door and she won’t see them. I’m going to sort this out.

  Creeping up behind her, a small squeal escapes her lips as I wrap my arms around her waist. She soon melts back into me though as she rests her head against my shoulder.

  “Mmm, what’s this for?”

  “Because I can.” I answer dipping my head until my lips are pressing against her cheek, she turns her face up to me putting her lips to mine in a soft closed mouth kiss.

  “You’re going to be late.” Evie sighs against my lips as she turns in my arms after throwing the cloth into the sink. She studies my face, her nervous gaze shifting, but it keeps coming back to one place - my eyes.

  “What’s wrong, you’re frowning?” She uses her the tip of her finger to soothe away the crease between my eyes.

  “Nothing.” I turn my scowl into a soft grin, I don’t want her to worry about me, it’s my job to do that, “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Settling her hands against my chest, they slide down to the lapels on my suit jacket. gripping them in her balled hands, while I take her face in mine and kiss her again.

  “I have to go, see you later.”

  As I turn from the gorgeous woman, I’m proud to call my wife, my four-year-old son runs through the living room towards me, shouting daddy. Evie smiles happily while I crouch down and wait until Benjamin runs into my open arms squealing. Kissing his cheek, I stand with him in my arms while he throws his small arms around my neck, hugging me, then I pass him over to Evie.

  Saying goodbye to my family, I pass through the living room and kiss my four month old daughter on the forehead as she sleeps soundly in her chair. Before leaving the house and heading for work.

  My phone rings as I’m getting out of the car at the office, I take it from my pocket as an unknown number flashes across the screen. Swiping across I reject the call and slide it into my back pocket ignoring it.

  I must get at least two unknown numbers calling me every day. Every single time it rings, I do the same thing. I know I’m probably doing the wrong thing possible, but I’m too embarrassed to tell Tom, Dick, or Harry that I’m struggling for money.

  I work as a sales rep for a car company and we’re not selling the required amount we should be to hit our weekly targets, in fact, it’s been quiet for a while now, some months I don’t get my full salary and because we’re not actually selling anything, I’m not getting my commission, which also makes up my wage. I’m riding a sinking ship at the moment and there’s nothing I can do but wait.

  I fire up my computer, and while I wait for it to warm up and turn itself on, I grab myself a coffee from the machine and sit back down with a sigh. Opening my banking app on my phone, I reluctantly look at my balance. So far, we’re into the middle of the month and I’m already two hundred pound into my overdraft. I still have bills to pay, then there’s food to buy.

  Shit. When did life become so hard?

  Instead on dwelling on the inevitable, I shut down my app, locking my screen and put away my phone, but not before putting it on silent and stand from my desk. I grab my cup of coffee and head out into the showroom.

  With just an hour until the end of the day, my boss comes to me and tells me there’s a staff meeting after work.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah mate, there’s just some things that need to be dealt with.”

  Sounds ominous.

  Gathering in the manager’s office at the end of the day, he discusses figures, loss, but at the end of his spiritless speech, he delivers the crushing blow. Something that is about to change our lives completely; liquidation.

  The pulse in my neck speeds up causing a bead of sweat to run down my neck disappearing underneath my shirt collar. Pushing two fingers behind the top bottom of my shirt I pull it away from my clammy skin, but it doesn’t work. I clutch the knot of my tie and loosen it up until it’s hanging further down the front of my shirt and unfasten the top button to get some air. My throat feels like it’s closing up. The boss keeps repeating how sorry he is through his speech. How he’ll give us good references and time to go to job interviews, but all I can think about is how the bills are stacking higher. Without a job they’re only going to get worse.

  Richmond’s cars is a small family business and unlike the big car companies, we’ve always offered a personal touch - the customer feels like they’re in good hands. Richmond’s has been going for ten years now, but this year, it’s definitely been the worst. We’ve noticed the decline of customers walking onto the forecourt and even less customers making a purchase. As
much as it’s the times we’re living in right now; it doesn’t help me or anyone else in my position.

  I have no clue whatsoever how I’m going to tell my wife. She doesn’t work, she wants to be at home with our children and the way I see it, why shouldn’t she? It should be Evie’s decision whether she goes back to work not mine. I know she’ll be totally selfless and go back to teaching if I ask her too. But honestly, I love having her at home, I’d prefer her better home; it also saves on childcare.

  Before we had our son, she worked until she was eight months pregnant, then left her job on the agreement she goes back when she feels the need.

  Mr Richmond’s voice breaks me from my daze as he hands us a letter. I focus on my name on the back of it as he carries on speaking...

  “Everything is in there that you’ll need for the unemployment office… I’m so sorry - I just couldn’t stop it from happening.”

  A voice from the back asks the question no-one wants to ask…

  “When do we finish?”

  Mr Richmond replies in a sombre tone informing us we have to the end of the week, but if anyone wants to finish today, they can. The low rumble of chatter rises in the office as the other employees begin to talk amongst themselves. I don’t speak to anyone, I’m speechless, numb.

  How am I going to tell Evie?

  How will I look after my family and give them the life they deserve?

  Chapter Two

  Simon

  Ever since Richmond’s has shut down, I still leave at the same time every morning, kiss my wife and kids, pick up my lunch that Evie has made me and head off to my car. What she doesn’t know is that I sit in my car for hours. Driving around popping into different companies in the hope that they’re looking for staff. So far, I’ve come up short. They’ve either recently hired or they’re just not busy enough to take on more staff. I wish I could tell her. We’ve always promised each other we’d never keep things from each other, but this, this could break us. How can I tell the woman I love that I’ve lost my job and very soon we could have nothing.

  I have an appointment with the unemployment office at one o’clock. I’m not holding out much hope for there either, but first the I need to go to the bank. I’m hoping after speaking to them I won’t have to tell her, and everything will be fine.

  With my head held high, I stroll in and head straight for customer services. I tell the lady sitting behind the high, oak desk my name and wait for her to find me on the computer, she then offers me a seat in the waiting area. I take the seat and flick absentmindedly through a magazine.

  Not too long after I hear my name called.

  “Mr Hughes?”

  I look up the suited man at the door, put the magazine back on the table and greet the bank manager with a handshake before following him into his office. I take the seat he offers me at the opposite side of the mahogany desk and wait for him to speak.

  “So, Mr Hughes, what can I do for you today?”

  Wiping my sweaty palms down the cotton material of my trousers, I begin to explain.

  “Well I was wondering if I could increase my loan. I wanted to pay the two credit cards I have off and then just have the one payment…?”

  “Okay, let’s take a look at your accounts and see what we can do.”

  The manager glances up from his computer screen and smiles while I sit here getting more nervous by the minute.

  “Do you know how much you were thinking of taking out with us today?”

  “Well, I was thinking maybe fifteen thousand pounds, that’ll cover both credit cards and give me some left over.”

  “Okay. Are all your details still the same?”

  “Erm, yeah.” He nods, but is as quiet as a mouse while he goes through my credit check. I look around his spacious office, my knee is bouncing as I wait for him amping up my nerves.

  What can be taking so long?

  “Right so, Mr Hughes. It seems the credit check has declined your request.”

  “What do you mean declined?”

  “Do you have any outstanding debts other than your credit cards?”

  “I may be late a little late paying a couple of my bills.”

  He looks over the details on his screen again before focusing back on me.

  “What about my overdraft, could I extend that?”

  I break his concentration with my question

  “I’m afraid Mr Hughes, you’ve already reached the limit on your overdraft and because of your poor credit score I really can’t do anything for you today. If your circumstances change in the near future, and your credit score improves then please come back and I’ll gladly help, but right now my hands are tied. I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing at all you can help me with?”

  “I’m sorry, but no. It’s completely out of our hands I’m afraid.” Giving him a devastated single nod, I stand from the chair as calmly as I can, but I feel like my world is falling apart right now. I try to give him a polite smile, but I’m sure it looks more like a grimace as I take his outstretched hand and shake it. I walk from the bank, crestfallen, my whole mood has deflated.

  Heading out to the car park, I sit in my car and open up my lunchbox taking a bite from the ham salad sandwich that Evie has made for me this morning. In doing this it makes me feel even more guilty for not telling her what’s going on. It’s not like she wouldn’t be supportive. I just don’t know how to tell her. The last thing I want is for my wife, the woman that makes my heart beat, is to be disappointed in me.

  Once I’ve finished my first sandwich, I open my bottle of water and gulp down a good mouthful taking the dryness from my throat, before putting everything away again. Placing the lunchbox on the passenger seat, I pull across my seatbelt and start the engine. It’s time to get going to my next appointment, the unemployment office. I just hope I get more luck there than I did with the bank.

  I’m sat in the booth with an advisor at the benefit office and things aren’t going well.

  “Mr Hughes, while you’ve still got money coming in, we can’t help you. Your earnings take you over the maximum threshold, which the government says you can live on.”

  The pompous woman in the benefit office sits opposite and drones on at me like I’m a child. “I’m afraid until that money has gone, we can’t give you anything…”

  “Are you taking the mick? I have no savings. I’m in debt up to my eyeballs and you’re saying that I earn too much. Were you not listening to me? I’ve lost my job.”

  “I know that, but you have a month’s money available as you’ve just been paid. Come back in a month and we can reassess your situation.”

  I’ve been sat here for forty-five minutes listening to this bitch talk down to me like I’m scum. I’ve had just about enough.

  “I’m not going to get any money from the company, they’ve gone into liquidation. I have nothing.” I stress again. “I have children, what am I supposed to do?” Closing my eyes on a heavy exhale, I look into the steel eyes of the unemployment officer sat in front of me, but she’s not budging. It takes a special kind of person to do this job, and she has heartless bitch down to a pat. I decide to take a different angle and try to appeal to her better nature.

  “I’ll lose my house if I can’t get help. I have a wife and a young family, surely there’s something you can do?” I plead dropping my head into my hands.

  She shuffles the papers around in front of her seemingly like she’s putting them in order and sets them down in front of me, then she sets a black biro on top and looks directly at me.

  “Please fill in the paperwork.”

  She then hands me another appointment card with a date for a week’s time to return back to the jobcentre.

  “What’s this for?”

  I know myself I’m being abrupt, but I’ve had enough of her condescending tone. I’ve worked all my adult life; I’ve made a living and cared for my family. I’m not a piss head or a druggi
e, yet I can’t get one slither of help from the government, maybe if I was one of those things, they’d help me, help us.

  “You’ll need to return to us so we can see that you’re actively looking for work. You’ll need to bring evidence to support your claim and, in a month, we’ll reassess your circumstances.”

  Everything that came out of her mouth was as if it was practised, how many times do they say this to people every day? Shaking my head at her u can’t help what slips from my tongue next. “You people make me sick. You can shove it.”

  I push my chair behind me so hard as I stand from it that it falls backwards to the floor with a thud. The stuck-up cow behind the desk stands from her own chair and steps back with her hands held up in front of her. I’m not a violent person and I would never hit a woman, but desperate measures lead to drastic actions. You can see why people get so angry in places like this... If they had a little compassion then it would at least be a start. The big, burly security guard begins walking towards us, my hands going up in front of me in defence.

  “I’m going.”

  I grab all the shit she’s given me and storm through the large office space, my head down, with my eyes at the carpet beneath me. It’s not until I feel the draft from the open door on my face that I take a breath.

  What the fuck am I going to do now?

  Chapter Three

  Evie

  As I rollover towards to the middle of the bed, I stretch out my hand to find Simons side empty and cold, which tells me he’s been up for a while. I’m not sure what’s going on with him at the moment but he’s not himself. He’s not the happy man I married. I see the storm in his eyes every time he looks at me, but he won’t talk to me. Rolling onto my back, I pull the duvet up to my chin to stave off the cold chill that runs over my skin. He’s acting so strange, but I just can’t put my finger on why.