Scratch (49 page)

I’d never understood what it meant to be in an
actual
daze before. I could barely
see
.

I know I got up and left The Basement because I was suddenly outside on the street. I stood there for a few minutes but Paula didn’t come after me.

I walked to Terry’s, without really knowing I was.

‘All right, Coop,’ Terry said. ‘What the fuck’s wrong with you?’ he also said when he saw my face.

I pushed past him into the flat and stumbled into the living room, where I stood in the middle of the floor. ‘I need to hit something,’ I said once Terry had caught up with me.

‘What?’

‘Seriously, what can I hit?’

‘Anything except the telly,’ Terry said. He was a good friend.

‘Thanks.’ I walked over to the living room door, closed it, and punched it as hard as I could four times.

‘Better?’ Terry said when I turned back to face him.

‘Not as much as I hoped.’ I rubbed my aching knuckles. ‘Also, extremely painful.’

‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on?’

I fell on to a chair. Terry backed up to his sofa and sat down, not taking his eyes off me.

‘She’s going back to fucking Germany.’

‘Shit.’

‘Have you got any beer?’

I stayed for an hour, accepting all the beer and sympathy Terry offered. He tried to help, but what could he say?

Ronni was coming over at seven so I left at quarter to. I couldn’t face telling the story again so soon.

‘Listen, mate …’ Terry said as he saw me out.

‘Yeah, cheers.’

‘I’m …’

‘I know. Thanks.’

***

I had lifted that week’s rent earlier, when it was still a normal day, and spent the next few hours swapping every last penny of it for alcohol in God knows how many pubs as I headed vaguely in the direction of home.

I didn’t speak to anyone outside of ordering drinks. No one attempted to speak to me. In fact, a space tended to appear two feet to either side of me at every bar I approached. Must have been something in my expression.

I got home and went to bed at some point.

I stayed in bed until it was time to go to work the next evening.

Everyone knew in work. Probably Sammy.

Natalie, Lucy and Kate tried to talk, but I wasn’t in the mood. I sat in the office until it was time to go home. I may even have done some paperwork, I can’t remember. I checked my mobile had a signal every few minutes, but it never rang.

I repeated this pattern exactly for the next six days.

***

Paula phoned at the end of the week. She was leaving in a few days, wanted to check I was okay. I asked if I could see her before she left. She hesitated, then said okay and we arranged to meet in Stube for a drink the next night.

I arrived first, and got to watch her come through the door.

She was wearing the same clothes, hair and make-up she had on the night her parents went to Ireland. If anything, she looked even better than she had then. It nearly killed me.

‘How are you?’ she asked nervously.

‘Been better,’ I said.

‘Me too.’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’m so sorry, Jim.’

‘I know.’

‘I don’t know what else to say.’

‘I know. Thanks for phoning. Shame it took you the best part of a week.’ I winced. I hadn’t meant to say that, not tonight.

‘
Jaysus
Jim, I’m
sorry
, okay? I’ve had a lot to organise, lots of people to see before I go. I’m sorry if my life’s a bit busier than yours.’

Of course, I thought. Miss Popular. ‘Okay,’ I said.

‘Hate me, Jim. Just hate me, maybe it’ll make it easier.’

‘I can’t hate you, Paula. I never will.’

‘I’ve made my decision, Jim. I’m not going to change my mind.’

‘I know.’

‘I’m so sorry I’ve done this to you, but I need to do the right thing, for me.’

‘I know.’

‘I’d never have been happy here. I was kidding myself that I would.’

‘Yeah.’

‘I belong there, Jim. That’s my home.’

‘I understand.’

She looked at me, confused. ‘You do?’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I fucking hate it and it’s ripping me to bits, but it is what it is. I didn’t ask to see you to try and make you stay.’

‘So why…?’

‘I wanted to see you. I thought we could have a drink and try and enjoy each other’s company one last time, say goodbye on good terms. I know I’ll never see you again, and I want to have a good memory to hold on to.’

‘I don’t think that’s very likely, do you?’

‘I hope so.’

‘So what, we sit and have a few beers and a laugh? After what I’ve done to you?’

‘That’s what I was hoping,’ I said. ‘You’ve been too big a part of my life to go out on an argument.’

‘So you want to be friends?’

I shook my head. ‘Not after tonight. I’m not like Ingo; I can’t pretend to be your pal just to keep you in my life. I wish I could, but I can’t. I love you, Paula, and the only reason I would stay in touch would be because I’d be hoping you’d come back. It would kill me to hear about what you were doing over there, how you were getting on with your life. Sorry, but I can’t do that. And if you don’t think that’s what Ingo’s doing, you’re kidding yourself.’ I had to stop talking or I was going to start crying.

‘It’s about work with Ingo,’ Paula said.

I smiled. ‘No it isn’t.’

‘You don’t even know him.’

‘I don’t have to. Everyone who meets you falls in love with you, Paula. It’s a fact. Men, women, gay, straight, it doesn’t matter. We all love you and want to be around you. Ingo’s no different.’

‘But you are?’

‘Not even a wee bit,’ I said. ‘I can’t contemplate not having you in my life; it’s the single most hideous concept I can imagine. But I have to imagine it if I ever want to get over you. It’s going to take me forever as it is; staying in touch would make it impossible.’

‘So what’s tonight about?’

‘Just what I said. I wanted to have a positive memory to end on.’

 
That made sense, to me.

‘Jim, how
can
we? What are we supposed to talk about?’

‘Anything you like.’

‘Oh yeah, right. We pretend nothing’s happened for a few hours, is that it?’

‘Well, yeah.’

Paula shook her head (
not
in a good way). ‘Are you a feckin’ idiot? I’ve been a selfish cow to you, and you want to have a cosy wee chat? Life doesn’t work like that, Jim.’

‘Who says?’

‘
Everyone!
This is breaking my heart too, you know. It’s the hardest decision I’ve ever made. We’re both total messes, and you want to do small talk?
Jaysus
Christ, Jim. What feckin’ planet are you on?’

 
‘I was only hoping—’

‘You’re supposed to call me a big cunt, remember?’ Paula interrupted. ‘You’re meant to shout at me; to tell me how big a bitch I am. I’ve screwed you over here, Jim. How are we supposed to pretend that hasn’t happened?’

‘Paula, I don’t want to argue, not tonight.’

‘Well that’s a bit feckin’ tough, isn’t it? I’m
leaving
, Jim. I’m leaving the country and I’m leaving you.’

‘I know that,’ I said. This wasn’t going as planned.

‘Are you sure? Because most people would be pretty feckin’ angry with me under these circumstances.’

‘Believe me, I have been,’ I said. ‘But tonight—’

‘What? You can switch that off for the evening? I don’t think so.’

It wasn’t going to happen. Paula wasn’t going to let me have my last, pleasant memory with her. If anything, she almost seemed to
want
us to argue. Hell, maybe she was right and I was being stupid. Maybe I was an
idiot
after all if I thought we could do this.

‘Okay,’ I said, giving up. ‘I do know I don’t want to sit here and fight with you all night, so maybe we should forget it.’

‘Yeah, maybe.’ She looked relieved.

‘I’ll walk you out.’

We stood outside a pub waiting for a taxi for what would almost certainly be the last time. Neither of us spoke. I snuck a glance at Paula when she wasn’t looking. She looked stunning, truly. Why do that, I wondered. Why get so dressed-up just to come out and argue with me? Unless, it suddenly occurred to me, she had somewhere else to go.

My eyes dropped to the pavement and I shook my head. Was that it? Did she start arguing deliberately because she had arrangements to be elsewhere tonight? She was leaving in a couple of days. There would be plenty of people wanting to see her before she went, plenty of impromptu parties thrown where she would be the guest of honour. She was Paula Fraser, after all.

A taxi pulled up and she opened the door. We looked at one another, but no one spoke. She pulled the door closed.

And that was the last time I saw Paula Fraser, the image I would carry with me: her looking gorgeous and leaving me behind because she had somewhere better to be.

Told you it wasn’t a film.

Chapter 31

I reverted back to my routine of working but not talking to anyone, drinking but not talking to anyone, and getting home when the house was in darkness and going to bed, not talking to anyone. I didn’t lay eyes on my parents for almost three weeks. The rent I left on the dining room table on a Friday night was always gone by the next day, though, so I knew they were still alive (and they me, presumably).

Every now and then, as the weeks passed, five minutes would go by when I didn’t think about Paula and I would catch myself smiling at a customer. Not very often, right enough.

I felt a little guilty that I didn’t see much of Terry, but he was busy having nightmares about potentially having to sign mortgage papers with Ronni, so he had other things on his mind.

Apparently it’s supposed to help to talk when things go bad, but I’d never found that. My instinct had always been to use my scowl as a tortoise shell and hide within it, keeping me safe from any interested predators looking to feast on my tasty, nutritious emotions.

Not that I’d ever actually felt this bad before. When all my previous relationships had ended, including the first time with Paula, I’d been sad and disappointed, but it didn’t take me more than a few weeks to start looking around for a replacement (although it generally took far longer to actually find one).

I was also lucky enough never to have experienced real bereavement. My grandparents had all died when I was a kid, too young to fully comprehend their loss.