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Great Writing - Home > Extended > Three accounts of events - part 18
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Extended Work
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| Three accounts of events - part 18 | |
| By teddy | ||||||
| 01 August 2007 | ||||||
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Two weeks Vicky and I have been in Walthamstow now, and even sceptical Tina has starting worrying it is all for good this time. ‘At least talk to him, Adi,’ she tried to persuade me in the first week when my phone didn’t stop ringing and Paul would turn up on her door step at the most unpredictable hours. Sometimes he was angry, I could feel it in the tone of the messages left of my phone, the way he knocked in the door. ‘Answer your phone, Adi, for Heaven’s sake, just answer your phone.’ Other times he was pleading. ‘Please, Adi, let me talk to you. I need to know how you are.’ As far as I am concerned though, no matter how much I’m hurting, we’re finished. During the day I try to stay composed, for Vicky’s sake the most, but at night, when she’s fast asleep in her cot, I crawl to bed and cringe under the sheets, muffling desperate sobs in the pillow I have gripped in my arms. How could he do this to us? Had Tina known what he’s done I’m sure she would’ve never insisted I should talk to him. ‘For God’s sake, Adi, you’re marrying the guy in few months time.’ ‘I was,’ I muttered, stretching my left hand, wide open, in front of her. She stared at me. ‘You’re telling me the wedding’s off? ’I lowered my eyes on the bare ring finger. I don’t think she needed an answer. ‘Oh, God.’ She helplessly shook her head. When Tina was at home, I’d asked her to let Paul in. No matter what he’d done, I couldn’t stop him from seeing Vicky. Those times I’d always made sure I made myself scarce somewhere upstairs where I knew his manners wouldn’t let him venture without Tina’s permission. Last I heard from him though was last Saturday when he took Vicky to Kent to see his parents. And since then nothing. Absolutely nothing. Now I can understand him going off me quite quickly, I’m sure he’s got many candidates he could replace me with in no time, most of them probably much more worthy than I am, but …how about Vicky, eh? No matter what happened between us, she is his daughter. If he wasn’t really interested, why did he get involved in the first place? I’ll never forgive him for doing this to her. The only thing that has unwound my misery a little in the last two weeks has been seeing George. On Sunday morning, quite early it was, probably just gone nine, we were all sitting around the kitchen table, Tina and Craig lingering over a cup of coffee, me giving Vicky her breakfast, or at least attempting to, one hand guiding the porridge loaded spoon to her mouth, the other one struggling to prevent Bobo, the fluffy bunny toy Vicky’s hand was tossing in the air, from diving into the porridge bowl, when the door bell rang. ‘I’ll get that,’ Tina said getting up. She disappeared through the door and seconds later we heard her talking to someone in the hallway. ‘I wonder who it is,’ Craig said glancing at his watch before looking at me. I shrugged, my heart thumping anxiously inside my chest. ‘Dunno,’ I mumbled. Please don’t let him come in, I prayed silently, convinced it was Paul. Then the door open and my heart galloped even faster, pumping gallons of blood to my face. ‘George!’ I slammed the spoon on the table and leapt off the chair. ‘Hey, honey.’ There he was, standing in the doorway, his face all lightened up, surprised and contented, his mouth broadened into a warm smile. God, I’d really missed that smile. ‘Dddada,’ Vicky squealed, stirring in her high chair, and an over thrilled Bobo took a final plunge towards the bowl, with nothing in the way this time to stop it from having the so-longed-for porridge bath. I moved closer to the door, my stomach churning with mixed emotions, arms ready to rise and loop around George’s neck. It was the grin darted at me through the gap between George’s shoulder and the door frame that halted my enthusiasm. Anne! How could I forget about her? ‘Adi! What a surprise! We didn’t expect to find you here….did we, George?’ Tell me about it. She’s back with George now and, unfortunately, that means Vicky spending time with her as well. That’s why that morning I felt compelled to hide the unpleasantness her presence there spawned in me behind a polite, quickly shrugged smile. ‘How’s Paul?’ she carried on, stepping beside George into the kitchen and planting herself between him and me, sharply cutting off his attempt to deposit a peck on my cheek. I looked at her, wondering if the question was genuine or she already knew Paul and I have split up and was trying to play some funny game with me now. I couldn’t say. ‘He’s fine.’ Either way, I wasn’t prepared to discuss my private life with her. ‘Sorry for being so early,’ George said moving over to Vicky. He picked her up and pressed his face against hers, ignoring the smidgens of porridge smeared all over it. ‘Hey, baby girl.’ ‘Dphhadphha,’ Vicky bubbled, snuggling up to him, one thumb in her mouth, a hand twiddling with his hair. George turned to me again. ‘I left a message on Paul’s phone last night, just letting you know we’re back from holiday and asking if we could have Vicky today. I hope you got it.’ Paul might have done, I thought. Not me though. And that’s because I haven’t spoken to him for a week or so. And last night after he dropped off Vicky, I switched my phone off, just in case he’d go in one of his phone raves again. And it’s still off as we speak. That’s why no, I didn’t know you were coming, I wasn’t going to tell him that though, not in front of Anne anyway. ‘Of course,’ I smiled at him. ‘That’s why we’re here,….isn’t that, bunny rabbit?’ I looked at Vicky. With her thumb still stuck in her mouth and a very solemn expression on her face, eyes wide open and eyebrows raised in agreement, she nodded vigorously. Bless her! Seeing us all laughing though, she had a change of heart and decided to award us with one of her sparkly giggles, creasing her little nose and revealing her perfectly formed front teeth. ‘Come on, bunny. Let’s get you cleaned up and changed.’ I took her of George’s arms. We left Anne and George with Tina and Craig, to savour a cup of coffee while waiting for Vicky to get ready. Half an hour later the three of them were gone. ‘Anne seems nice,’ Tina said after they left. Craig had disappeared into the living room and it was only me and her left around the kitchen table. I wasn’t looking at her, but I could feel her eyes watching me. ‘I hope it will work out all right for them this time.’ I kept staring at the empty cup twirling in my hands. ‘I hope so too,’ I mumbled absently. It was early evening, perhaps around seven, when George brought Vicky back. I was in the kitchen, loading up the dishwasher, we had just finished dinner. ‘Adi,’ I heard Tina shouting, ‘Vicky’s back.’ I grabbed the kitchen towel from its rail, quickly wiped my hands and rushed into the hallway. ‘Hey, baby girl,’ I kneeled down by the kitchen door and opened my arms wide. ’You’re back.’ Freshly unloaded from George’s arms, Vicky tottered into mines. ‘Mmummy!’ ‘Sorry we’re a bit late,’ George apologised. I smiled, this morning he was too early, now he’s late. ‘We dropped Anne back home first.’ ‘Come on, you,’ Tina shoved us into the living room. ‘Let’s sit down, I bet you’ve done enough walking today.’ It was not long before Vicky started rubbing her eyes and yawning copiously. ‘I’ll take her upstairs,’ Tina offered, leaving George and me all on our own. It felt a bit awkward at first, it had been such a long time since we’d basically seen or talked to each other. The moment didn’t last long though and the words and smiles just eased between us. We talked. About his work. My painting. He had found out all about my achievements from Claire. ‘I’m so proud of you, honey,’ he said. Then we talked about Vicky. ‘She’s growing so fast,’ he said, ‘every time I see her she seems so much different from the last.’ He didn’t ask about Paul, neither did he mention the wedding. He didn’t even ask why I was still at Tina’s, and I had this feeling he’d, somehow, kind of guessed. There were no reproaches in his voice, or allusions to his unanswered calls or me stopping any contact with him all together. At some point I felt the words strolling into my mouth, ready to be spilled out. ‘Paul and I are not together anymore.’ Yet, something, I couldn’t tell exactly what it was, kept them in there. He’ll find out soon anyway. I didn’t tell him about my visit to the cottage in Carlton either, but I thought it was only fair to give him back the key. ‘I’m sorry, I totally forgot about it,’ I said while struggling to get it off the key ring. He stopped my hand. ‘No, you keep it, honey. You might want to take Vicky there sometimes.’ ‘But…,’ I looked at him bemused, ‘maybe you and Anne…or maybe you want to sell it one day.’ ‘Anne’s not too keen on living in the country side. If I decide to sell it, I’ll let you know.’ He kept smiling and I couldn’t say anything else. ‘I hope I’ll see you soon, honey,’ he said when, two hours later, he was ready to leave. That was the first night I didn’t fall asleep huddled against a wet pillow. Vicky and I have moved into our new home yesterday. Nothing fancy, just a one bedroom flat, few streets away from Tina and Craig. That means we still have to share the bedroom, but I know Vicky doesn’t mind. We like telling each other stories before going to sleep or even have a quick chat first thing in the morning while we’re still in our beds. My paintings are selling well and they’re bringing a decent, steady income into our pockets, but for the time being we can’t afford more than that. It’s all the other things we have to think about, all the bills, Cindy’s, one of Craig’s aunties who looks after Vicky when I have to work, fare. It would be good if we could save up a bit as well, who knows, one day we might want to take a holiday somewhere, maybe go to Holland to see Seb and Mia. Or perhaps even back home, spend some time with grandpa and grandma. That’s why we have to be careful and the one bedroom flat will have to do for now. Tina wasn’t too happy when she found out about us moving. ‘You don’t have to, Adi. There’s enough room here for all of us.’ ‘I know. But I think it’s time we learnt to stand up on our own feet. We can’t live the rest of our lives relying on other people.’ I hugged her. ‘You and Craig have done so much for us already.’ ‘Don’t be so silly,’ she quickly wiped a tiny tear suddenly appeared in the corner of her eye. She had to let us go in the end. I sent Paul a message this morning, asking if it was all right to pop in and collect the rest of our stuff. I thought I’d be polite. ‘Sure,’ was his reply, nothing else. So there I am, on my way to Chelsea, perhaps on my last trip there. I stop the car in front of the house. The street looks deserted, but this area is usually very quiet. I look at the car clock before turning off the engine. Quarter past eleven. One or two hours and I should be done, leaving me enough time to get back home for Vicky’s afternoon nap. I had to leave her with Cindy this morning. I couldn’t have possibly handled her and all the packing as well. Plus, I don’t think it would’ve been enough room in the car for her baby seat. I get out of the car and drag few sport bags out of the boot. My hand feels feeble when I put the key in the door lock. I’m going to miss this house, I know I will. Despite anything else, we had a quite few good moments around here. I open the door and shove the bags in the hallway. I lean my back against the door and push it shut once I’m in. Then I stop for a second and take a deep breath. The air inside feels somehow stuffy. I skim my eyes over the bags as I’m just about to grab them from the floor – for the last couple of years I have packed and unpacked my life in and out of them. This will have to stop. Not for me, I’m not that concerned about myself, but for Vicky. She needs stability in her life, and at the moment I feel I’m failing her. I hear a noise coming from my left and I startle when Paul emerges from the study. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.’ His voice sounds rough and weary. ‘I’ve been working from home for the last few days, I should’ve told you.’ I can’t move my eyes from him. God, he looks so tired and painfully thin, dark purpley circles basking beneath his bloodshot eyes, his face looks as if it hasn’t seen the razor in days. ‘I …, I swallow heavily before picking up the bags, ‘I’m going upstairs to start packing if that’s ok.’ He smiles weakly. ‘Of course.’ I can feel his eyes following me up the stairs, but I can’t, I can’t afford to turn around. I go to the nursery first and start loading Vicky’s stuff in one of the bags. Not all, just some of it. She will need the rest when she’ll come to visit. I try to think about the new flat, the fresh start ahead of us, but my thoughts keep slipping to Paul. What’s happening to him? I’m almost in tears when I moved to the bedroom, our bedroom until not long ago, his now. A sharp smell of alcohol hits me as I walk in. I look around, the room is a mess. The bed is undone and clothes are scattered all over the floor. It doesn’t look as if Mary, the housekeeper, has been around here for a while. I step further in and my eyes get hooked on the bottles stacked next to the bed. I count them as I get closer, six, all empty …I move even closer and pick up a small plastic bottle from the bedside table. My heart shrinks as I read the label: diazepam. …oh my God, oh my God, sleeping pills, you are not supposed to take this with Scotch. The tears are freely streaming down my face now and my legs feel like jellies. I have to sit down. Why is he doing this? I’m already sobbing uncontrollably when I hear him walking into the room. I don’t have the strength to lift my eyes and look at him. He comes and sits down on the floor, beside my legs, resting his head onto my lap and wrapping his arms around me. My hands are mechanically strolling over his hair. ‘Why, Paul,’ I cry, gasping apprehensively, ‘why are you doing this to yourself?’ He doesn’t answer, just presses his face harder against my legs and tightens his arms around me. ‘Come home, Adi. Please, just come home,’ he mutters. ‘I’m nothing without you.’
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