‘Hello, Tessa,’ you say.
She tries to shut the door in your face.
You put your foot in the way. You lean on the door. You force your way in. You slam the door shut.
‘Fuck off,’ she spits and picks up the phone. ‘I’m calling -’
‘Calling who?’ you laugh. ‘Your solicitor?’
You snatch the phone out of her hands. You rip the cord out of the wall.
‘What do you want?’
You grab her hair. You tip her head back.
‘You’re hurting me!’
‘You set Michael up. You set Jimmy up.’
‘No!’
‘Yes.’
‘No!’
You wrap the telephone cord around the tops of her arms.
‘Please…’
You pull it tight.
‘It’s not what it looks like,’ she is saying. ‘Not what you think.’
You knot it. You push her through into the front room. You throw her on the floor. You draw the curtains. You switch the TV off. You light a cigarette.
‘John,’ she says. ‘Please, listen to me…’
You are stood over her.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she whispers. ‘But you’re wrong.’
You shake your head. ‘You called Jimmy.’
‘No -’
‘You told me you did.’
‘No -’
‘He came to meet you.’
‘No -’
‘The police were waiting for him.’
‘No -’
‘You planned it with McGuinness.’
‘No -’
‘You set him up.’
‘No -’
‘You set Jimmy up just like you set Michael Myshkin up.’
‘No -’
‘You had to, because it was you who told the police about Michael. It was you who said he exposed himself. You who said he’d been wanking in the graveyard.’
‘It’s -’
‘You were one of the girls they were going to call.’
‘I -’
You look down at her.
She nods.
You shake your head.
She looks away.
‘How could you?’ you say. ‘How fucking could you?’
She looks up at you.
You look away.
‘It was during summer holidays. Jimmy was working on the new houses. Michael used to pick him up from work in his van every night. We used to see them mucking around in churchyard. We started talking to them, me and some of the others. Michael could get us booze and cigs from off-licence. Used to all get pissed. Just mucking about in churchyard. I started to go out with Jimmy. But Michael was always about because of his van and fact he could get us the booze and stuff. Jimmy used to say Michael had never had a girlfriend. Never been kissed or anything. Jimmy was dead rotten to him. Just used him. Teased him. Bullied him. Made Michael try and get off with some of the lasses or Jimmy would pay some of lasses to get off with Michael. It was fucking cruel, I know. But Michael wasn’t bothered. He wasn’t interested. He had eyes -’
You look down at her.
‘He only had eyes for one girl.’
‘No,’ you say.
‘He went on about her all the time.’
‘No -’
‘How he could save her.’
‘No -’
‘He had a photo -’
‘How -’
‘From his work.’
‘No -’
‘All the time -’
‘No -’
‘He’d look at it all the time -’
‘No -’
‘For hours.’
‘No -’
‘He talked to it.’
‘Shut up!’
‘It’s the truth -’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘It’s the truth, John!’
‘Fuck off!’ you shout. ‘You ever actually see them together, did you?’
She looks up at you. She shakes her head.
‘Rumours. Innuendo. Circumstantial fucking -’
‘Not Clare,’ she whispers.
You look at her.
‘Jeanette.’
You close the door. You walk down the drive. Back down Springfield Avenue. You turn on to Victoria Road. You go back down the road towards the graveyard, the Church and the school. You cross the road. You take out your car keys. You unlock the car door. You open it -
‘Help me,’ she says -
‘We’re in -’
You fall backwards into the road -
An election van brakes -
A woman drops her shopping -
You lie in the road in a ball -
The rain in your bandages, the rain in your bruises -
A man shouts: ‘Somebody call the police!’
