‘I’m Eva. Please, sit down.’ Then, to the twins, ‘It will be all right, go back to bed.’
Brian Junior said, ‘We’re not leaving.’
Barry sat down in the soup chair and closed his eyes. ‘I can’t believe I’m here.’
Poppy, who was desperately trying to ingratiate herself with Eva, asked, ‘Can I get anybody a cup of tea?’
Brianne said, ‘I sometimes think Dad’s right about this bloody country and tea.’
‘I’ll have one,’ said Eva.
‘Yeah, me too,’ said the driver. ‘Not much milk, two sugars.’
Brian Junior said, ‘Green tea, and I’ll have it in here.’ He leaned against the wall and swung the cricket bat into the palm of his right hand, making a smacking sound.
Brianne was wearing a pair of her father’s pyjamas. They fitted her well. She sat down on the bed and put her arm protectively around her mother’s waist.
Poppy said, ‘Should I tell Brian and Titania?’
‘Absolutely not,’ said Eva.
Barry looked around at the four strangers and said, ‘I don’t usually carry on like this. I’m surprised at myself. I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Mrs Beaver. Every time I’ve passed your house, I’ve wanted to stop the cab and knock on your door.’
Why tonight?’
‘I suppose I wanted to talk to somebody before I do myself in.’
Brianne said, ‘Oh, how lovely. You must surely know, Barry, that my mother, whose heart is as soggy as Romney Marsh, will try to talk you out of it.’
Brian Junior said in a monotone, ‘You’ve no intention of killing yourself, Barry.’
Brianne asked, ‘Have you posted it online?’
‘What?’ said Barry.
‘It’s almost obligatory now, Barry. You have to go on the net and join the queue with the rest of the attention whores.’
Eva looked at her children. What had happened to them? Why were they so heartless?
Barry shifted in the chair. He felt that he could easily die of embarrassment. His tongue was huge in his mouth. He thought that he would not be able to speak again. Water started to drip from his eyes. He was glad when the weird-looking girl came in with three mugs of tea and handed one to him. He had never seen anybody dressed in such extravagant bits of cloth before. He slurped on his tea and burned his mouth, but he said nothing about the pain.
The silence was oppressive.
Eventually, Eva said, ‘Why do you want to kill yourself?’
Barry opened his mouth to speak, but Brianne interrupted him. ‘I think I’ll take myself off to bed now I cannot bear the thought of all the cliches that are presently stirring inside Barry’s head, and their imminent arrival at, and escape from, Barry’s voice box.’
Brian Junior said, ‘You’re Out of your element, Barry.’ Brianne drew her dressing gown tightly around her and went haughtily back to bed.
Eva said, ‘Poppy, you go to bed now’
Poppy sulked out of the room.
Barry couldn’t work out whether he had been insulted or not by the tall, chunky black-haired girl. He hadn’t expected other people to be there when he talked to the woman, Eva. He had made things worse for himself, he thought. He had almost certainly been disrespected, he had burned his mouth, he’d lost fares, and he’d forgotten until now that the first high-speed train that he was planning to throw himself under didn’t leave Sheffield until 5 a.m. So he had three hours to kill.
‘As usual,’ he thought, ‘I’ve mucked everything up. I’ve done it all my life: lost stuff, broken stuff, stolen stuff, been caught with stuff.’ He felt that he had never learned the rules of life, whereas every other man, woman, kid and animal knew them. He was always lagging behind – sometimes literally – shouting, ‘Wait for me!’ He’d only ever been able to court the dregs of women that his mates had discarded.
A girl had once said to him, ‘I’m not being funny, Barry, but you don’t half stink.’
Since then, he had bathed twice a day. But it took up a lot of time without a shower, and his hot-water bill had doubled. He was earning less these days – people weren’t going out at night, or giving many tips. Sometimes he didn’t even cover his petrol costs. He had no family. After he had fought with his new brother-in-law at the wedding reception, his mother had said to him dramatically, ‘You are no longer my son. You are dead to me. ‘But, to be honest, he had enjoyed knocking that tosser on to the dance floor. Nobody called his sister a slag. But even she had turned against him. In the day, while he was trying to sleep, the fight went round and round in his head. He was so tired, but he could never sleep properly…
Eva said, ‘You look exhausted.’
Barry nodded. ‘I am. And I’ve got worries.’
‘What’s at the top of the list?’
‘How much will it hurt when the train goes over me neck? That’s my main worry. It’s bound to hurt before I die.’
Eva said, ‘There are easier ways, Barry. And think about the train driver, he’ll have it on his mind for ever. All you’d be to the passengers is an hour’s delay, while they search the track for your head and limbs. Think of a stranger swinging your decapitated head in a Tesco’s carrier bag.’
Brian Junior said, ‘Is that what they do?’
‘I saw a documentary,’ said Eva.
Barry said, ‘So, you don’t think the train?’
‘No,’ said Eva. ‘Definitely not the train.’
Barry said, ‘I thought about hanging. I’ve got a beam…’
‘No,’ said Eva, firmly. ‘You could hang there for minutes. Fighting for breath. It doesn’t always break the neck, Barry.’
‘Right, strike that off the list then. Have you got any thoughts about drowning?’
‘No. I’ve got a friend called Virginia Woolf,’ lied Eva, ‘who filled her pockets with stones and walked into the sea.’
Barry asked, ‘Did it work?’
‘No,’ she lied again. ‘It didn’t work. She’s glad it didn’t work now’
What about Paracetamol?’ said Barry.
‘Not bad,’ said Eva, ‘but if you don’t die, you could poison your liver and suffer an agonising death a fortnight later. Or have your kidneys fail and end up on dialysis. Four hours a day, five times a week, with your own blood going round in plastic tubes in front of you.’
Barry said, ‘Sounds easier to live.’ He gave a humourless laugh.
Brian Junior said, morosely, ‘I could cave your head in with this cricket bat.’
Barry laughed again. ‘No, I think I’ll leave it, thank you.’
Eva said, ‘You might as well live, Barry. What’s the second worry on your list?’
‘How to make some real friends,’ said Barry.
Eva asked, ‘Do you smoke?’
He shook his head. ‘No, it’s a disgusting habit.’
‘You should take it up, and then you could join all the little groups standing outside their pubs and clubs. You’d be part of a despised minority, with a great sense of solidarity. You’d soon make friends. And you wouldn’t actually have to smoke the fags, just light them and hold them between your fingers.’
Barry looked dubious.
Eva said, ‘Don’t like that idea?’
‘Not really.’
Eva snapped, ‘OK, so buy a dog.’
Brian Junior said, ‘Have you got a computer, dude?’
Barry was thrilled to be called ‘dude’. It had never happened to him before. ‘Yeah, I gotta laptop, but I only use it for DVD s.’
Brian Junior was scandalised. ‘Don’t tell me that! It’s like only putting a toe in the water instead of swimming
