Sophie's Throughway (15 page)

“Tell me you're fucking joking..
please.
.” His voice was heightened and raspy.

I took another swallow of pink juice.

“No, I'm not joking. I've made the decision to support Brendon and I can't do both. But before you start going
mental I've made a plan and a spreadsheet. I should be able to get enough freelance work to be just about OK. Plus I've put my car up for sale and I've changed the utility providers for the house so that's cheaper and I've looked into changing the house insurance when it's due next month. I've got loads I can sell, you know, like an eBay hobby. I've thought it through.” I said finishing and taking another slow sip of my chilled wine.

“You've thought it through?
Thought it through?
It's the most monumentally, stupid decision I've ever known you make. Without any concerns for the financial impact that's going to have on everyone else. I can't afford to bail you out! I have more than enough expenses!”

“I haven't asked you to bail me out,” I snapped, but he wasn't listening.

“And how the fuck are we going to cover the mortgage and the council tax, the bills, the food and every other bloody thing. That property is a pension fund to me, to US and you've just killed it.”

“Like I said, I've made a spreadsheet. I can just about meet my fair share.”

“A spreadsheet. Right. Well that I'd LOVE to see that! A spreadsheet showing the future going up in smoke. Fucking unbelievable. You've left us high and dry. I
suggest
you rescind your notice rather sharpish.”

To say that I fucking hated him right then would have been a colossal understatement.

“No Karl, I will not rescind my notice because I am putting my child first. That's what parents do. And, with
respect, I haven't left us high and dry, that's what you did when you walked out on this family. When you decided it was just
too
much pressure. This is what I'm doing. End of. I'm sorry that doesn't fit with your little agenda but bad luck. I'm the one here, dealing with the everyday shit, taking the abuse, making everything work so I think I'm MORE than entitled to make my own decisions on what's right for my family.” My breathing was rapid with heightened emotion but I had a deadly, bone chilling control that seemed to be taking hold of me.

“Don't turn this round on me!” he scoffed, “you're the one making ‘silly girl' decisions and changing everything and causing a workable situation to become difficult. What you're doing is idiotic. And for the record I didn't
walk out
on my family, as you put it, I left an environment that was impossible to function in.”

“Impossible to function in? I seem to have to do it Karl. I HAVE to because you didn't. And you can dress it up however you like. You. Walked. Out.”

“Because I couldn't live like that anymore. Not because I didn't love my family. Not because I didn't love you. That was the hardest thing for me!”

“Well, you didn't love us enough.” I ended the call with a defiant press on the red button because it was going nowhere and I was sick of how he was talking to me. I couldn't be bothered with the drama, the excuses or the blame. But I knew one thing. I was going to make this work even if I had to starve myself to death.

He didn't call back which was a good thing because I
wouldn't have answered. It was rare I cut a call to anyone but if I did, ringing me back and expecting me to answer was futile. Karl knew that. I had no doubt he'd come back for more soon enough.

Brendon and Bryony both came through the door laughing, having picked each other up on the street outside. As soon as Bryony saw me she came and gave me a big hug. She smelt of cheap teen perfume and jelly sweets.

“Oh Mum, are you OK?” She hugged me tight. “I heard you packed your job in.”

“Yep. It's not going down too well with people,” I replied into her hair.

“Because it's stupid,” said Brendon. “
My names Mom
… DUHHHHH.” He was laughing as he said it, but I didn't find it funny.

“She's doing it for
you
, Brendon!”

“You dizzy blud?” Brendon lifted Bryony from my hug and tipped her upside down. She wailed and beat her arms on his leg to be put down.

“Well at least you're in a better mood,” I remarked sarcastically, “does anyone want any dinner?”

“Nope had mine at Jessie's,” Brendon replied. Well that explained the lift.

“And I've been to MacDonald's with everyone,” said Bryony. I didn't class that as food but she was content enough and I was more than happy with my liquid equivalent after today.

I went into the living room and sat in the corner of my sofa and curled my legs up. I shut my eyes and just tried to
be
for a minute or two. Thoughts were whizzing round my mind and I couldn't make them stop. I'd never been very good at that ‘
Just empty your mind'
thing.

I clicked open my word game. ‘The Voice' had wanted real time conversation. Maybe it would be nice to talk. I really liked him and he was so far removed from all the other stress in my life. Like a warm hand in the darkness.

I typed in quickly before I changed my mind.

It was lunchtime there. It was a good fifteen minutes before he responded.

Well of course it was.
Why
did I say that?

I felt all nervous again. But yes. Of course I did.

As I was reading his last message and thinking I should have sounded a little more eager, Brendon came in the living room with a film.

“Think we should watch Fight Club,” he said as he went to put it in the DVD player.

“I've seen it before.”

“Yes Mommy, but it's my favourite film and I thought I'd come and cheer you up.”

I loved how he thought cheering me up involved doing something that
he
wanted to do.

“Well, if you like…” I guessed a bit of Brad Pitt wouldn't hurt and it was a cracking movie. Plus it was rather relevant since I'd been in my own little fight club all day. As the film came to play I went back to my game for a second.

What? Did he mean right now?

“Mum! Put your game down. The film's starting. This is about spending quality time with your son.”

“MUM! Put it down or I'll take it off you.”

I put it down. I'd go back to him when the film finished. Maybe we could talk then. I spent the next two and a half hours curled next to my boy who was trying to make amends for his earlier outburst in his own sweet way.

Brendon went to bed as the credits came up on the TV and I went to the kitchen to make a drink. I took my phone and clicked on my game.

Whoa. What was that supposed to mean? Slightly unfriendly. I hadn't called him an arsehole for a long time but he was heading back in that direction. That actually hurt my feelings.

Let's see if he suggests a call now.

Jesus. What's this all about?

Clearly I'd totally racked him off without even trying, just because I wasn't able to talk precisely when he wanted to. But I couldn't. Welcome to Aspergers. He didn't know that, but maybe he should be a little more mindful that others lives weren't necessarily as easy.

That was it? Good? I was so upset and annoyed. In fact, I felt cyber violated. Why was everyone being so mean to me today?

I threw my phone across the settee and thought about Karl and The Voice and the demands that Fothergill had put into place. I couldn't please anyone, no matter what I tried to do for the best. Everyone had their own bloody
agendas. I pulled at the newly formed ladder in my tights and watched as it crept up my leg and the fine, denier strands became taught against my exposed flesh.

 

Chapter 19

Within ten days of selling on the online marketplace I'd had my eBay account barred. Clearly I wasn't cut out to become an eBay millionaire. Being naive to this arena I had put some of my clothes on there without a reserve price because I didn't know what that was. I was already finding the efforts of listing stuff a massive time sink and wondering how the hell anyone made money from it. I'd sold a Calvin Klein skirt, a Karen Millen dress and a Coach jacket for £3.00.

Your eBay items have sold! Speciallady72 has paid and items need to be shipped.

Err, no they don't, I thought. Are you kidding me? £3.00. That lot alone had set me back in excess of £600.00 and she wanted it all for £3.00? Pfft! I'd rather give it to charity or my daughter than sell it for that! I found that I could send a message to the buyer and decided to tell her that the deal was off. Surely she'd expect that anyway.

Report me to whom? What were they going to do, arrest me? Instead they barred my account. Awesome.

Apart from screwing up eBay I'd managed to make a brilliant shopping budget and save loads of money on other things. I'd seen a TV talk show one morning with an MP on there saying that people could save an awful lot of money by visiting all the supermarkets and bagging their BOGOF offers. I was sure he didn't have to do that but I decided to give it a go. I'd visited Morrisons, Asda, Sainsburys and Tesco and kept myself strictly to the end of aisle offers. I had more cous cous than Ainsley Harriott and enough beans and Colgate sensitive toothpaste to get us up to Christmas.

I'd had three people look at my car and was sure one of those was going to buy it as they kept coming back to
look it over with an endless supply of relatives, which was always a good sign. Colin had accepted my resignation with a heavy heart and I'd been spending the last two weeks at work being told that I could change my mind at anytime. I'd been close on several occasions. Johnno in particular, had made me want to kill myself. He kept leaving sticky notes on my desk with little messages or an occasional chocolate or love heart sweets saying ‘Miss you' or ‘Don't leave me' it was hilarious but heart wrenching. His latest move did have me reconsidering big time.

“If you stay at work I promise to get you a date with Frank Lampard,” he said seriously.

“LOL! Really Johnno? What about his girlfriend, she may not be too pleased.”

“I'll find a way, I mean it.” I had to chuckle at his candour.

Colin had been brilliant and had rang around various publications and such getting me an ‘in' on the freelance list and bigging me up to everyone he knew. I'd already started to get assignments and also some PR work for a company and that was before I'd legitimately left my current role. I knew I was going to make it and I hoped it was going to be worth the sacrifice.

I sat at my desk and looked around surveying the whole office. I wanted to take it all in so I could remember the atmosphere when I was no longer here: Monica was studying something intently on her computer screen and
sucking a pen. She always had a pen in her mouth. The entertainment girls sat in a huddle discussing nightlife dressed for a party at any given minute. Johnno was on the phone, his desk covered in sports regalia and his Adidas bag, full of kit, at his side. I hoped Bryony ended up with someone like him. He was such a lovely lad.

I picked up one of the jelly beans that Johnno had left as today's present and clicked on my word game for the millionth time. The Voice hadn't responded to me since I'd not taken him up on the phone call. He'd played two goes, storming words, but had left no message. He hadn't, however taken a turn in the last four days. I was on the verge of heartbreak. I couldn't explain it but that's how it felt. Like I'd been dumped. I couldn't play until he did and I felt like he was holding me ransom. I just wanted him to talk to me. I'd left a message a couple of days ago in the chat bubble.

Nothing. No play. No response. I decided to send another. Maybe he wasn't well or something. I should be nicer.

There, that was nice. I clicked it off and felt a sense of woe.

It was getting on for 4pm and I was leaving early as Colin and I were going to the World Service restaurant
tonight. I felt privileged to be taken as his guest as it was a beautiful place set in a 17th century building and it would be a nice way to end our working relationship. Well, from a full time point of view. I went to his office to see him about the arrangements. He was standing up, analysing something on his computer, deep in thought.