All That

I waited until he was in the jacks before ringing. Calling the barracks was a desperate move but I needed to warn him. And, more than anything, I wanted to see what he was going to do.

He waited till we were parked outside the house. I wasn't expecting the dig but neither was he the one I landed back on his mouth. A split lip, a cracked tooth...I won, I suppose. He had no tissues on him. I was fucked if I was giving him any.

He found an old J-cloth shoved down by the handbrake. Nor was I going to tell him what I'd used it for.

This needs stitches. Your rings caught me.

Show us...Just a nick. You'll be grand.

He rolled down the window and spat. Whatever way the light hit him, and with the blood on him and all, he looked good, like he used to, handsome like an actor. Truth was, I'd never been able to figure him out. He'd never know how much he'd hurt me.

Who is he?

He's not you. That's the most important thing. I always thought it was my fault, you know? It was the only explanation, wasn't it love? That there was something wrong with me?

You have no fucking right...

I have every fucking right. You have the cheek to slap me? Because of your hurt feelings? You don't feel anything, do you Mark?

Shut up.

Try it. I'll hit you back again.

He punched the dash instead. Tried not to let on how much it hurt.

I locked myself in the box room. I felt calm, clear in the head. Mark was running up and down the stairs, slamming doors. He had to be doing something with himself.

He won't leave Gillian and the girls. You'll be a kept woman in a bedsit downtown. Come over once a week for a ride and fuck off back to the family. You know how it'll be.

My hand was killing me. My fingers were so swollen that I couldn't get my rings off. I needed ice. I could figure the rest of it out later.

I stuck the kettle on as I was down there. He'd used the last of the ice so I ran my fingers under the cold tap. He leaned against the frame of the kitchen door, holding toilet roll to his lip, watching me. It wasn't even an awkward silence. There was just nothing that needed to be said.

I gave him sugar in his tea. They say it's good for shock. I even felt a bit bad for him. He looked so lost, like Daddy gone senile. But we'd coped with that as well.

He can get it up...

Jesus Christ, are you still feeling sorry for yourself? After all this time? I sicken you, Mark, I know. I'm sorry you had to put up with me.

No, I...You were...

Yeah. Just like in one of your poems. I'm sorry for existing. I'm sorry about the smell.

A car pulled up outside. He knew who it was by the look on my face.

Just a chat, love. Take the lie of the land. Then see where we go from there.

He shook his head. He was begging. He'd thank me later, though.

I brushed past him like he wasn't there.