Thirty-Three

Switching off the main light, Mandy crossed the room by the light of the streetlamp and took off her jeans and jumper. She dumped them on top of her suitcase on the floor and then slid under the duvet, where she curled foetally on her side. The curtains stirred in the evening breeze; the street noise slowly drifted in and then petered out.

When she opened her eyes again it was to the ringing of her phone. Dazed and disorientated from sleep, she sat bolt upright, expecting to be in the armchair in the study with Grandpa’s bed opposite. With a jolt she realized she was in her own room and Grandpa had gone. Reaching out, she fumbled for her bag and took out her phone. ‘I hope I didn’t wake you,’ her father said as she answered,‘but your mother was worried when you didn’t ring last night.’

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I must have fallen asleep.’ She glanced at the time. It was 6.43 a.m.

‘I told your mother that’s what must have happened – that you were either asleep or out with Adam.’

‘Yes. I’m sorry,’ she apologized again.

‘All right, love, I’ll leave you to it. Just wanted to make sure you were OK. I’m on my way to a breakfast meeting. Give your mum a ring later, will you? You know how she worries.’

‘I will.’

Saying goodbye, she dropped the phone on the bed and flopped back on to the pillows. Far from feeling refreshed after nearly ten hours sleep, she felt the same debilitating sadness that had engulfed her the evening before. More than sorrow, lethargy or exhaustion, it was a thick, dark mass which weighed so heavily, it took away the desire to do anything and made everything seem totally pointless. Even the basic essentials of washing, dressing or even getting out of bed seemed to require far more effort than she was capable of. And her wretchedness increased as she realized she hadn’t even phoned Gran the previous evening as she’d promised. Mandy lay back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling, feeling absolutely worthless, and helpless to do anything about it.

Half an hour later she was dying for a wee and she knew she’d have to get up if she wasn’t going to wet the bed. Hauling her feet to the floor, she stood, slightly giddy from spending so long lying down. In only her bra and pants she shivered in the early morning air coming from the open window, padded to the bay and lowered the sash. Crossing to her suitcase on the floor she pulled out her kimono and wrapped it around her, then opened the door to her room. She went along the landing to the communal bathroom, where she used the toilet. The house was quiet; it always was at this time. Most of the occupants were students and they never got up until much later. Returning to her room, she climbed into bed, where she propped herself on the pillows and lay back, very still. She stared into space, her mind empty of everything except the darkness, her body paralysed beneath the black mass.

How easy it was to do nothing and how quickly time passed, Mandy thought as the minutes blurred into hours. Time had no relevance when there were no goals or milestones in her day, it just went on and on. Her phone rang, and when she picked it up from beside her on the bed she saw it was already 11.40 a.m. She didn’t answer; it was her mother’s mobile and she really didn’t feel like talking right now. Her mother knew she was safe; her father would have phoned her. She also noticed a text from Adam, sent half an hour before – Hope ur ok. fone when u want 2 meet x. She didn’t want to phone or meet.

At 3.10 p.m., making a huge effort, Mandy drew herself higher up the pillows and phoned Gran. But the answerphone clicked in and Mandy was shocked to hear Grandpa’s voice: Sorry we can’t take your call. Please leave a message and we’ll call you back as soon as we return. Gran must be out and hadn’t thought to change the message yet. She hung up and redialled, just to hear his voice again, and then again. Dear Grandpa – his voice so immediate and alive, he might still be there. Tears stung the back of her eyes. She redialled and, savouring his voice one last time, made hers as light and even as possible. ‘Hi, Gran. It’s Mandy. Just phoning for a chat. I expect you’re next door. Love you.’ Closing the phone she put it beside her on the duvet, then lay back and wept.

At 7 p.m. the light began to fade again outside and Mandy realized with morbid satisfaction that she’d spent the entire day in bed doing nothing. She also realized she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink, and while she wasn’t hungry she was thirsty. She could hardly swallow, her throat was so dry. She pushed herself out of bed, wondering at the mammoth effort it took, and went to the fridge where she tore open the packet of fresh juice Adam had bought. She drank half of it straight from the carton, and then took the carton back into bed. Propping herself on the pillows again, she continued staring into space.

Some time later a knock sounded on the door together with Tina’s voice: ‘Mandy, are you still OK for a drink later?’ Mandy had forgotten Tina’s invitation from the day before, but no, she certainly wasn’t OK for a drink later. She stayed where she was, very still and quiet. There was silence from the other side of the door. Tina knocked again, and finally went away. With no light on and no television or music playing she’d assumed Mandy had forgotten their arrangement and gone out. Later still Mandy’s phone rang again and when she looked at the caller’s number she saw it was Gran. Making a huge effort to sound normal, she answered,‘Hello Gran, sorry I didn’t phone last night. I fell asleep. How are you?’

‘Not too bad, love. I got your message. I’ve been with my neighbour most of the afternoon. It’s a bit quiet here without Will. Evelyn came over earlier about the funeral arrangements. It’s next Friday. Your dad has the details.’ God, the funeral, Mandy thought, how was she going to cope with the funeral when she couldn’t even get out of bed? ‘So what have you been doing?’ Gran asked. ‘Keeping busy with your painting?’

‘Yes,’ Mandy lied, for it was easier than saying no. Then Gran talked about Grandpa and the little reminders of him that were all over the bungalow and which she was reluctant to put away.

‘His message is still on the answerphone,’ Mandy said.

‘Is it? I’ll have to ask John or Evelyn to change it; I don’t know what you do. Evelyn said she’ll help clear out his clothes and take them to the Oxfam, but there’s no rush, is there?’

‘No, none at all.’

Gran talked for another ten minutes, pleased to have someone to chat to. Mandy was pleased to listen. She found some comfort in the sound of Gran’s voice – a familiar source of warmth in her present cold isolation. Gran finally wound up: ‘Well, dear, come and see me as soon as you’re free.’

‘Yes, of course I will. Love you, Gran.’

‘And you, dear.’

It wasn’t that she wasn’t free, Mandy thought as she once more dropped the phone on to the bed beside her and lay back; she had all the time in the world. But the organization and effort needed to get ready and then catch the train to Gran’s were more than she could contemplate at present. Also, in her current state she was hardly the best person to be visiting and trying to cheer up someone who had just been bereaved. It seemed Gran was faring far better than she was at present; at least she’d been out.

An hour or so later she heard Tina and Nick from the attic flat leave the house, presumably going to the pub together. Mandy was still propped on the pillows; the only light in the room came from the streetlamp outside. The evening ticked past and she stayed where she was, vaguely listening to the comings and goings of the other tenants and their visitors. Some time later when it was completely dark she heard Tina and Nick return and call goodnight to each other before going into their separate flats. Her phone bleeped with a text. She drew it into her line of vision and saw it was 12.05 and the text was from Adam: I luv and miss you x.

His words, his forgiveness, opened a small crack in the black fog of her depression as she was reminded of what she stood to lose. Yes, she loved and missed him too, yet she couldn’t bear the thought of him being close or touching her; neither could she tell him the reason why. Jimmy’s attack, now remembered, had left her feeling dirty, violated and completely unclean. With a stab of panic she realized that if she didn’t find a way of dealing with it, it would not only finish her relationship with Adam but very likely destroy the rest of her life.

I luv u 2, she texted, but I need u 2 b patient. i hav to come to terms with sumthing. x

He texted back immediately: I understand. Hav all the time u need. hav you tried painting out yr feelings. it might help?