EPISODE ONE-HUNDRED AND ONE
Something inside Mike
snapped. ‘I can’t stand this any
longer,’ he yelled. ‘Will somebody
please tell me what I’ve done to deserve this?’
‘Shouting won’t do any good,’ said Claire, her voice a dead echo from a
paralysed mind.
Mike clenched and unclenched his fists, fighting to control his temper. Tears sprang into his eyes and his voice
became choked. ‘If only you knew what
this depression of yours is doing to us.
If only you knew how contagious it is.’
‘Infectious,’ said Claire automatically.
‘Contagious is when it’s spread by physical contact.’
‘Yeah well...’ shouted Mike, floundering.
‘That’s exactly what I do mean.
Everything you touch in this house becomes depressed. You pass it on to the house itself. You can feel it in the walls. And we hardly ever see Andrew these
days. He locks himself in his room. He’s scared to come out.’
Zombie-like, Claire stared at the untouched cup of tea on the table before
her. She wanted to speak; to tell Mike
how sorry she was; how much she loved him.
But the numbness in her mind was like a niggling toothache. She wanted to crawl away like a wounded
animal and huddle in a corner until the depression went away. But she knew it wouldn’t. She knew she had to get help.
‘I’ll go this morning,’ she said, as if replying to something Mike had just
said, something different.
‘Go?’
‘To see the doctor.’
‘You should have gone weeks ago.’
‘I know.’
‘Well, why didn’t you?’
‘I’m going this morning. All right? I promise.’
‘What time?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll ring them up.’
‘Tell them it’s urgent. They have to see
you.’
Almost imperceptibly, Claire nodded and continued to stare at the tea cup. Mike sighed deeply and tremulously. ‘I’ll ring them if you like.’
Claire looked up at him. ‘Why? Don’t you trust me?’
‘It’s not that I don’t trust you. But I
get the impression that as soon as I’m out the door, you’ll just sit there
staring at that cup.’
‘I said I’d go. I don’t need you to hold
my bloody hand.’
He noticed how she had raised her voice slightly in irritation, and felt this
was a good sign. Anything was better
than having to suffer her unemotional staring into the distance. He glanced at
his watch.
‘Well I’d better be off. I’ll come
straight home after my last appointment, to see how you go on at the
doctor’s. Be some time after four I
expect.’
Claire didn’t reply. She continued to
stare into the distance, as if she was trying to escape the present. Mike was almost tempted to yell out something
like:
Come on, pull yourself together! He almost smiled to himself as he permitted
himself this small fantasy of what not to say to someone in a clinically
depressed state. But it was how he
felt. He felt depression was an
indulgence on the part of the sufferer, as if they were deliberately trying to
punish those around them.
His jaw clamped tight with tension, he shuffled quietly out of the house, got
into his car, and drove recklessly away from his street. He felt like driving dangerously fast to get
the anger out of his system. But as soon
as he was onto the main road, the rush hour traffic brought him to a halt. Instead, he took his anger out on every
four-by-four vehicle waiting to move out into the traffic.
‘I’m not letting you out, you bastard,’
he said, avoiding eye contact with the driver. ‘Gas guzzling wanker!’
*
Picking up his suitcase, Alan opened the front door, then turned awkwardly
round to acknowledge Pran.
‘So this is it,’ said Pran, a pleading, dog-like expression in his eyes. ‘Now who’s not facing up to things? Now who’s running away?’
Alan cleared his throat gently before he spoke.
‘We’ve been over and over it, Pran, until I’m sick and tired of the same
arguments. Everyone’s got a breaking
point.’
‘What if I said I’d get a job? Stack
shelves at Sainsbury’s. Anything.’
‘It wouldn’t work.’
‘How d’you know, if you won’t give it a try?’
‘It’s been weeks now since you packed in your job. And in all that time, it’s been sheer
hell. And I can’t take any more of it.’
Pran grabbed Alan’s arm. ‘Everyone
deserves a second chance.’
‘You’re dragging me down. The only way I
can pick myself up again, is if we split up.’
Although the morning was warm and sunny, Pran shivered from a sleepless
cold. He’d been dreading this morning,
and now the moment of parting had arrived, he felt a great numb confusion,
unable to cope with his emotions. He was
adrift now, floating listlessly, and there seemed no point to anything.
Releasing Alan’s arm, he said, ‘How the hell am I going to afford this flat on
my own?’
Alan shrugged. ‘You’ll have to do what
I’m doing. Find somewhere else.’
‘You can’t just chuck away the four years we’ve lived together.’
‘This is not impulsive, you know. We’ve
spent weekends arguing, and I feel exhausted.
Drained. Like I’ve not had any
sleep. And my work is suffering. If I don’t watch it, any promotion I was
expecting will go right out the window.’
‘So you’re putting your career first, is that it?’
Alan stared at Pran with a look of disgust before turning away and starting
down the flight of stone steps. ‘I’ll be
back to pick up my things. Soon as I can
hire a van.’
‘Phone first,’ said Pran. ‘So I don’t
have to be here.’
Pran watched as Alan pulled the handle out of his suitcase. Then his ex-partner walked away, wheeling the
suitcase behind him, and did not look back.
*
When Mike returned in the early evening, he found Claire sitting at the kitchen
table in the exact same spot, still staring at the cold cup of tea. He wanted to hit her, but restrained himself
by clenching his fists and breathing
deeply.
‘So you didn’t get to the doctor’s.’
Silence. She leaned forward and held her
head in her hands, quietly sobbing.
‘Jesus, Claire! What the hell is this
all about?’
Mike felt no compassion for his wife as the quiet sobbing continued. If anything, it had the opposite effect, and
he found himself shouting. ‘I told you
to go to the doctor’s. You’re destroying
this family. And for what? I’m fucked if I know. But don’t expect me to stay in and suffer
your misery. I’m going out. And if I come home pissed – too bad!
Mike stormed out of the house, slamming the door. As soon as he was in the street, he stopped,
wondering where to go. He hadn’t had any
lunch, and he was hungry. He felt a
deceitful urge to splash out, treat himself to an expensive meal, with plenty
to drink. Then he remembered Maggie’s
Wine Bar. He would go there, and try to
rekindle the relationship with his ex-lover.
IN EPISODE ONE HUNDRED AND TWO
Craig has words with Maggie about her drinking, and Ronnie stalks his ex
wife.