The Meltdown of a Banker's Wife (17 page)

44

The house looked like a demilitarised zone. Even as they drove up in the car, it had a desolated and abandoned air, although there was nothing obviously amiss. The exterior of the house merely exuded an aura of desolation. But the interior? Well, the interior looked as if it had been hit by a bomb. The kitchen sink and all the surfaces were covered in dirty dishes, bits of food, pots and pans and what appeared to be an attempt at cultivating biological weaponry much more real than anything not found in Iraq. There were dirty underpants and sundry other bits of clothing dangling out of the open door of the washing machine and strewn all over the kitchen floor and Ozzie, being a cat, jumped straight into the washing machine, nestled down in the centre of the suppurating mass and went to sleep. Iggy sniffed around, enjoying his chance to eat everything. He swallowed a pair of underpants. Room after room was found to be in a similar state and Mel just hoped that the children's rooms had escaped the disaster that seemed to have befallen the rest of the house. With bated breath, Amy, Michael and Mel climbed the stairs. Then they entered the bedrooms one by one. Amy and Michael's bedrooms were as they had been left. Mel had forgotten to fix Amy's curtains after the tantrum months ago, but nothing had changed. She only wished she could have found the same level of order in the bathroom, the main bedroom and the en-suite. The bathroom was covered in wet towels and the scum on the bath lay in strata. The sinks were covered in whiskers and old toenail clippings were ground into the soap in the soap dish. These clippings appeared
to have been flung generously all over the place. She was convinced that she could see toenails in the light fittings. God only knew how they had got there, but then again, nothing was making sense at the moment. There was no Alan to be seen anywhere in the house, despite it being Saturday afternoon. If it hadn't been for the fact that nothing was taken and there was no sign of forced entry, Mel could well have concluded that they had been burgled. But what burglar would also leave scum in the bath tub and human gunge everywhere? She was sure that any burglar would have been tidier than Alan had been. She was just taking a deep breath and beginning a count to twenty when the doorbell rang. Amy answered the door.

‘It's Mrs Gulliver!' she called.

Good grief! A neighbour? Surely after all this time, the rattlesnakes weren't coming to welcome them home and present them with homemade apple pie?

‘Hello?' Mel looked her neighbour up and down so that she would recognise her if she ever saw her again.

Mrs Gulliver appeared rather perturbed, as if she had been living in a haunted house for a week.

‘I don't know where Alan is now,' started Mrs Gulliver, her eyes roaming wildly, as if she were a meerkat on the alert, ‘but for the last few nights there have been all sorts of um … comings and goings. The music has been playing very loudly until the early hours every morning and at least once, I have found Alan sleeping in your back garden. I wasn't spying or anything … I just couldn't help seeing him from my spare room window. Lying there, he was, wrapped up in a sheet as if he were wearing a toga. Your friend's husband has also been around. The police have been over to get them to quieten down as well. Oh no, I didn't call them … could have been anybody in the Avenue.' She paused for breath. ‘The cars that have been in your drive! There have been Porsches, Lamborghinis … ooh, all sorts. There was
even a helicopter flying low over your house one night. I don't think it was the police helicopter either, because they always hover. This one had a Stars and Stripes flag and … er, what resembled a huge … ahem … “appendage” painted on it.' Mrs Gulliver was becoming thoroughly absorbed in her subject now. She seemed to have been quite thrilled by the whole experience. A helicopter? Adorned with Stars and Stripes and a huge ‘appendage'? Well, who might have been the owner of such a prestigious vehicle? Who else but Big Swinging Dick? So, Alan had been throwing parties for his cronies in the midst of their family home all week by the sound of it. And the whole neighbourhood had seen goodness knows what … including the police coming to tell Alan off for disturbing the Queen's peace.

‘Thank you, Mrs Gulliver. I am so sorry you have been disturbed in this way! Alan probably needed to host some executive dinners or something!?' she laughed shrilly. ‘You know how chaps are when they get together! They don't really leave their teenage years behind, do they?' She sounded like the mother of a rather unruly infant. Better to make a merry little quip out of it as it wouldn't do at all to show fear to a woman of prey such as Mrs Gulliver.

‘Oh,' said Mrs Gulliver, somewhat triumphantly. ‘It wasn't just chaps! No! There were an awful lot of “ladies” turning up at all hours too. Thought they'd catch their death of pneumonia, I did.' Mrs Gulliver enthusiastically drove the point home.

It was midsummer and it was hot all night as well as all day. There was no way Mrs Gulliver was truly concerned over the health of these ‘ladies'. She just wished to ensure that Mel understood completely that they were very scantily clad. She continued: ‘Some of them must have left their horses elsewhere.'

‘What do you mean?' shuddered Mel.

‘Well, they had very little on but the garments they were
wearing were tight, black and made of leather. They were also carrying riding crops and bridles and wearing spurs,' she squeaked, flushing with exhilaration.

‘I see. Well, thank you, Mrs Gulliver. Maybe it was a corporate fancy dress party! In fact, I think Alan did mention that he would be throwing one while I was away! Thank you for letting me know and for taking such good care of my property whilst I've been away!' Mel started to close the door before she fell down in a weeping mess in front of the old witch. But Mrs Gulliver continued,

‘Would you like me to help you to tidy up? I could make us both a nice cup of tea … and I've brought some biscuits!'

‘No … no. That's awfully nice of you, obviously, but I really need to get unpacked and settle the children in,' she concluded … and find Alan and kill him. She finally managed to close the door and then leaned against it, trying to regain her strength and sanity. Meanwhile, the children wandered around completely confused by the whole scene. Amy's face was puckering up in readiness for a wailing fit and Michael didn't seem to be faring much better.

‘Well, Daddy's never been very good at housework,' she bluffed, ‘and I asked Mrs Holland, the cleaner, not to come whilst we were away. We'll have this place sorted in no time!' She managed to act more confidently than she felt and this appeared to relax the children a little. She then went to get the cat out of the washing machine before she forgot he was in there and inadvertently put him through a programme … Hot, it would have been, judging by the state of the underwear Ozzie had nestled into. It was no good. She couldn't leave it like this for the cleaner to deal with tomorrow. It was embarrassing and knowing Alan these days, there could be all sorts of illicit substances hidden about the house. The children were exhausted and whining so she got them through their bedtime routine first.

Amy dived under the covers with her favourite cuddly ant
and Michael stroked his Airport Barbie's hair as he closed his eyes. They had had a lovely time with their cousins, in the end. Really they had quite a lot in common once Gabriel and Jupiter had lightened up a bit. The study of political theory at Gabriel's age, although it sounded impressive, had made him very cynical. Hardly surprising really, given the state of politicians anywhere in the world, Mel thought. It made Mel feel a lot more at ease about the psychosocial well-being of her own children.

At least her kids knew how to play, even if it may be weird play at times. It was great to see how good her children's influence had been on Gabriel and Jupiter.

Sleeping in a teepee had actually been very liberating. Maybe there was something in all this pyramidy stuff after all. Inspecting the house, compared to the teepee, she realised how totally bogged down she was with material possessions. All the things in the house had to be kept clean and the more things she had, the more cleaning had to be done and the more cleaning products she needed. It was made more apparent now because most of the stuff in the house had escaped from its hideyhole and oozed over every surface, with the help of Alan. It was like some rather unpleasant culture that had been growing far too long in perfect conditions on an agar plate … it had burst forth and invaded everything its germy eyes surveyed.

Once the children had settled, she attempted to impose order. She wouldn't be able to sleep yet, because she was worried about Alan and his whereabouts although she tried to put it out of her mind. Whatever had happened to him was his own bloody fault, she kept reminding herself. And anyway, he hadn't been in touch much whilst they were away and therefore she hadn't told him when to expect them back. It was like living with a stranger these days. It was no good … all this scrubbing wasn't taking her mind off where on Earth Alan might be. Despite herself, she phoned his mobile.

‘The mobile phone you are calling has been switched off,' proclaimed a smug voice with great finality. Although it was just a technical tool, the voice seemed to be jeering at her! ‘Ha! Your husband has switched his phone off because he's up to something and he doesn't love you and doesn't want to talk to you.' That's what that uppity little voice was really telling her. So she scrubbed with more vigour and indulged in a gin and tonic. Finally, as she was about to give up and go to bed at three in the morning, she heard scratching and scrabbling noises at the French windows of the conservatory. ‘Oh my God! This is it! I am about to be the victim of some serial killer!' Scenes from every horror film she had ever seen flooded her mind unbidden.

‘Mel!' squeaked a bunged-up voice. ‘It's Alan. Let me in!'

Alan bounced through the door with Rob. Both of them were high as kites.

‘Where have you been?' asked Mel.

‘Oh … er … here, there, everywhere!' answered Alan vaguely as he and Rob raided the cupboards for crisps and nuts and biscuits.

Great. Welcome home, Mel! Alan seemed worse now than before she had left.

She wanted to go to bed and forget about it all, but she felt uneasy about leaving two drug-crazed lunatics downstairs. They were smoking as well, so if she went to bed, it was unlikely that the house would be standing or that they would be alive in the morning if she went up now. So she hung around downstairs, feeling like a gooseberry in her own home.

Finally Alan and Rob passed out and after checking that anything that could cause a fire or injury was safely disposed of, she crawled into bed at some unearthly hour. She was too tired for it to occur to her whether Kelly knew where Rob was.

Next morning, she was woken by the phone. Alan and Rob were still unconscious downstairs on the floor and the children were sleeping.

‘Mel! Oh you're home! Thank God!' It was Kelly and it was seven in the morning. ‘I waited till now to phone because I thought you'd be exhausted, but I couldn't wait any longer! Rob's disappeared!' cried Kelly.

‘Oh … no! He's here with Alan asleep and drooling on the carpet.'

‘Oh! Thank God! He's been gone for days. He went to meet Alan on Tuesday and never came back! What is going on?'

‘I only wish I knew!' Mel groaned.

The long summer holidays stretched ahead of them. Amy and Michael had missed the last week of school. There was no way she could hide things from them now. They were going to come down from their bedrooms soon and they would see their dad and Mel's best friend's husband lolling on the floor like a pair of tramps. This was awful. There was no way she was going to deal with this alone.

‘Kelly! Please can you come over? I don't know what to do!'

45

‘What have they doing!? Look at them!' marvelled Kelly on observing the state of both their husbands. They didn't bear close examination, but at a cursory glance, their faces were covered in whiskers about half a centimetre in length and their noses were dripping with snot. Their hair was matted and they reeked of alcohol, body odour and who knows how many chemical substances.

‘Let's go and have some tea and work out some sort of stratagem.'

She settled Kelly's children (who had been dragged out of bed to accompany Kelly in this time of need) in front of the television to wait for Mel's kids to wake up and come down to play. Mel had no intention of subjecting Amy and Michael to further horrors this early in the morning. They'd had quite enough last night. Mel just thanked God that she had taken them away for a week. She shuddered to contemplate how much psychological damage they could have suffered if they had been kept in that environment for seven days.

‘Not camomile tea though, is it? I'm sorry to break this to you but that stuff is absolutely minging!' admitted Kelly shamefacedly.

‘No! Don't worry. I hate the stuff.'

‘Why do you always have it in the house then? You've always got these weird teas.'

‘Well, all the celebs seem to drink them and they swear by them for weight loss and emotional contentment. I just thought there was something wrong with me that I'd much rather have tea with lots of sugar and milk! I mean, it's a
bit retro isn't it? And I'll let you into a well-guarded secret … I like Earl Grey with milk and sugar too. See how much I trust you as a friend? I couldn't admit this to anyone else. And I also love gold top milk. That skimmed stuff is awful, but I thought that if I practised drinking it for long enough, I'd finally become civilised and even progress to nettle tea and grass juice.'

‘It's just as well we are that close, Mel. Otherwise we'd never cope with the state of our husbands. It was bad enough when Rob started breaking my tights and underwear, trying them on … but this? I mean, have you seen the state of their noses? What has he been doing to it?' she peered gingerly at Rob's nose. ‘Do you think he's got some sort of horrible virus?' asked Kelly, naively.

‘It's cocaine, Kelly,' stated Mel carefully.

‘No! No! It can't be! Rob's always been totally against the stuff! You should have heard him when I came back from our day out in Brighton. He didn't stop lecturing and gloating for a week! What on Earth is happening?' Kelly was close to tears.

‘Just put it down to the wonders of the free market and global capitalism!' Mel raised her fist in the air in mock salute.

Amy and Michael then came piling down the stairs, stopping short as they reached the door of the dining room. Their faces folded.

‘Mummy! Who are those people sleeping on the floor? Did they break in?' asked Amy.

Mel wondered whether it was wise to inform them that one of these tramp-like beings was her father. She actually wondered whether it would cause less trauma if they believed that someone had broken in like some hideous Goldilocks and fallen asleep on the floor. She was considering the explanation options, when Matilda and Ivan came out from the living room. It was enough of a distraction to tempt Amy
and Michael away from the scene and they went off happily to play together.

Just then, the two tramps began to stir. Groaning, burping and farting, they started writhing on the carpet and trying to open their swollen eyes. As they lifted their faces from the ground, they left patches of drool and unspeakable exudate from their mouths and noses, strung between the fibres of the carpet and their faces. ‘Ugg!' they grunted in unison.

‘What are we going to do?' whispered Kelly.

‘Well, we've got to do something drastic.' They winced at the bloodshot eyes of their spouses. Their ‘Lords of the Universe' looked more like the ‘Goblins of the Black Swamp' this morning. If this is what the world of commerce and finance did to people these days, then they needed to get out of it, if only for a short time. Gone were the days when sober, black-suited, bowler-hatted, sensible family men worked in the City. Now it was people who, regardless of gender no doubt, yearned to be known as ‘Big Swinging Dick' and judged their worth by how big their bonuses were, how big a gamble they could take and how big a lie they could sell. And to do this day in and day out and be successful in it, these City workers had to fry and pickle their brains.

‘Hey,' grunted Alan. ‘Have you been away yet?'

‘Pardon?'

‘You told me you were going to your parents'. Are you going … or have you been?'

Alan seemed genuinely not to have noticed his wife and children's seven-day absence.

‘I've been, Alan. I don't think you've been here either!'

‘Yes I have. I've been here all the time.'

‘You may have been here in body but spiritwise, I'm not sure which celestial body you've been inhabiting,' said Mel drily.

At that, Alan looked at Rob and Rob looked at Alan and they both started giggling like raving lunatics.

‘I'm sure I remember a few celestial bodies! Don't you
Rob?' Alan nudged Rob … and they collapsed laughing. Mel stared at Kelly, enraged.

‘This really is too much. Genuinely Alan, has our absence from this house truly gone unnoticed? We've been away for an entire week!' Mel fervently hoped that Alan was teasing her.

She sat down at the table with Kelly. ‘Cup of tea, or do you want something stronger?' she suggested.

‘It's still a bit early for anything stronger, Mel. We don't want to end up like these two with shit for brains, do we? Someone's got to be responsible.' The situation was obviously desperate if Kelly had to be cast in the responsible role.