Unsuitable Men (32 page)

I twisted the plastic bag between my hands, wrapping it round and round until the tips of my fingers went white. ‘What – what exactly did the doctors say, Jim?’ I asked.

‘Oh Jesus, sorry, I thought the others would have told you,’ he said, drawing his legs up to sit straight. He turned around on his unforgiving plastic chair and slung his arm around
the back of my own. ‘She’s going to be fine, Rory. She really is.’

‘Are they sure?’

‘They’re just keeping her in for observation, they said. And a lecture on giving up smoking, I expect. If they’re brave.’

I sniffed and nodded. Somehow I trusted Jim’s word more than Percy and Eleanor’s. Maybe because he had spoken to the doctor directly. I didn’t feel like he was just offering me
empty assurances to settle my mind. If there had been terrible news, I felt he would have been able to tell me. Let’s face it, he didn’t usually hold back from telling me things I
didn’t want to hear, like how bad my hair looked.

‘She’ll be okay,’ Jim said. ‘Don’t worry. The doctor said they were running a few more tests, but they should be done by six. Then you can see her. I’ll wait
with you if you like.’

‘I’ll be all right,’ I said. I leaned back a little, until I realized it seemed I was trying to lean into his outstretched arm on the back of my chair. I straightened up again.
‘Martin’s coming back later, he said. You don’t need to stay.’

‘Oh, Martin, great. Shall I wait till he gets back?’ Jim looked at me with real concern and I wondered if the hard yellow chairs made me look, as Percy and Eleanor had, fragile and
in need of tender care; but that couldn’t be the case since Jim himself looked anything but frail with his pumped-up musculature.

I shook my head. ‘I’m fine. Thanks, Jim. Really, thanks. You should go.’

He pulled his hand away from the back of my chair. His hands pressed flat on his thighs as he pushed himself up to standing. ‘Okay. You can call me any time though. I mean it. Any time you
need anything.’

‘Lost my phone,’ I said, looking at the ground. It came out more churlishly than I’d meant it to. As if I was making an excuse for not calling him, instead of being embarrassed
to have lost it in the first place.

Jim put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders in a shrug. ‘Okay,’ he said. He rubbed at his hair again as he walked to the door. When he was halfway out of the room he
stopped, frowning.

‘Dawn, doesn’t your aunt usually cook for Perce and Eleanor in the evenings?’

‘Yes. Oh God, yes, I hadn’t even thought about that. Don’t worry, Jim, I’m sure they can sort themselves out just this once. Surely Eleanor can’t set fire to the
toaster twice.’

Jim laughed and gave me a little salute as he left.

The doors swung shut behind him and I was on my own again. The plastic chairs seemed to have become even harder. I bundled my coat into a pillow and stretched myself out across three chairs.
I’d hardly slept last night, and despite my nap in the cinema, suddenly I felt exhausted. Trying to ignore the hard edges digging into my side, I closed my eyes.

When I woke up it took me a few seconds to remember that I was in the hospital. The harsh yellow chairs reminded me as soon as I opened my eyes, as did the insistent pressure
against my ribs. I stretched my legs out across the plastic and yawned. I remembered making a pillow out of my coat before I lay down, but now I could feel that the coat was spread over me like a
blanket, tucked right up to my chin, while my head rested on someone’s lap. I turned my head to look up, squinting into the light of the fluorescent tube overhead.

‘Jim?’ I murmured sleepily.

Martin frowned down at me. ‘Jim?’

‘Martin!’ I exclaimed, sitting up immediately. ‘Sorry.’

‘Jim? That plumber at your aunt’s house?’ said Martin. His frown deepened. He edged forward on his seat and suddenly winced, a hand on his lower back.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked. ‘It’s these horrible chairs. Have I been asleep for ages?’

Martin arched his back, biting his lower lip. ‘A little while,’ he acknowledged.

‘Oh poor you, Martin,’ I said. ‘Your poor back. Here, let me put my coat behind you. Is that better?’

‘Thanks,’ he grunted, leaning backwards, but I could see he was still in pain.

‘Martin, I really appreciate your being here, please don’t think I don’t,’ I said, ‘but it’s fine if you want to go now. You’ve done more than enough.
And there’s no need for you to suffer on these chairs when you don’t have to.’ In truth it wasn’t just concern for his back that made me think he should go home. It was
doing my head in having him here, acting like we’d never broken up.

‘What kind of man would I be to leave you alone in a hospital?’ asked Martin. ‘I want to help, Rory. Please let me.’ He winced again as he shifted on the chair.

It didn’t make any sense to me that he was here at all, but I wasn’t ready to initiate that conversation when the doctor was due to arrive any minute. Unless – had I slept
through it?

‘What’s the time?’ I asked, standing up anxiously. ‘Has the doctor been already?’

‘Rory, Rory, Rory,’ said Martin, rising up from the seat and reaching his hands out towards me with the indulgent smile I remembered so well. He put his arm around me and led me away
from the door and back to the row of bolted-down chairs. Pushing my head on to his shoulder, he smoothed my hair with a heavy hand. ‘Rory, Rory. No need to get hysterical. It’s going to
be okay. I’m here.’

I was too agitated to be comforted. Especially by my very recently ex-boyfriend. The nervous energy of waiting for news of Auntie Lyd made me incapable of sitting still – now I understood
why films always showed expectant fathers pacing the hospital corridor; at least moving helped you to feel like you were doing something. When the door to the waiting room opened, I was glad of the
excuse to pull my head away from Martin’s grasp.

‘Miss Carmichael?’ asked a nurse. Not the doctor after all. What did that mean?

I nodded, and gripped the sides of the plastic chair.

‘Don’t look so worried,’ she smiled. ‘The doctor says she’s going to be fine. He’s been called away to an emergency but he says it’s okay for you to
come and see her.’

I nodded again, silently. Martin put his arm around me.

‘Shall I come with you?’ he asked. I shook my head, then remembered the M&S bag and grabbed it from the floor.

In the corridor the nurse walked briskly in front of me and I was grateful to her for it. If she had been sympathetic I think I might have fallen apart.

‘The doctor’s going to keep her in for observation,’ said the nurse over her shoulder. ‘But he’s pleased with her progress so far.’

She stopped outside a pair of double doors. The room inside was darkened.

‘Your aunt is sedated,’ she explained, her hand on the door. ‘So don’t expect her to wake up. And don’t be alarmed by the machines that are attached to her –
we just need to monitor her overnight to make sure all is as it should be.’

She pushed open the door and I followed her into the room. There, on a spindly looking metal-framed bed, lay Auntie Lyd, her chest rising and falling under the thin blue weave of a hospital
blanket. A drip was taped to the back of her hand, and a monitor behind her pulsed a regular red light that, as instructed by the nurse, I tried to find reassuring instead of alarming. Auntie
Lyd’s face looked calm, but a purpling bruise on her jaw made me catch my breath. Had she fallen on her face when she collapsed? Had the doctors done this by accident? I took hold of her
fingers and they clutched my own.

‘It’s involuntary,’ said the nurse, hovering at my shoulder and indicating Auntie Lyd’s clasping hand. She moved a wooden stool to the side of the bed for me to sit on.
‘She’s not really aware you’re here. I’m going to leave you now, okay?’

I looked up from Auntie Lyd, realizing I hadn’t spoken one word to the nurse since she’d come to find me. ‘Thank you.’

‘She’ll be all right,’ smiled the nurse. ‘The doctor was a big fan of your aunt’s back in the day. We all were. We’ll be looking out for her. You should go
home and get some sleep and come back in the morning, okay?’

‘Okay.’ I nodded. I heard the soft squeak of the nurse’s shoes on the linoleum and the door’s muffled swing with her departure. Auntie Lyd breathed calmly on and I had
the strange feeling that although she was unconscious, it was she who was a comfort to me instead of the other way around. Guilt weighed heavily on me; even now, while she lay on a hospital bed, I
was taking strength from Auntie Lyd instead of supporting her.

I smoothed the hair away from her forehead; with the expressive dark eyes closed, she looked much older. Her forceful personality lent her the illusion of youth, and I had grown used to thinking
of her as a woman in her prime. Here, so still and silent, I saw her for the first time as she would be when she was truly old. The thought of losing her clutched at my heart. I would do anything
to make her well. I’d caused her nothing but difficulty since I’d moved in. The best thing I could do to help Auntie Lyd would be to stop being a drain on her. I felt her fingers flex
in mine. As soon as she was better I would move out; let her life go back to normal. It was time to stop being selfish, and to think of what was best for Auntie Lyd for a change.

‘I’ll come in with you,’ said Martin, when he stopped the car in Elgin Square. It was dark outside and light from the kitchen window glowed welcomingly from
the basement. Percy and Eleanor would be inside waiting for news.

‘No.’ I surprised myself with my answer. I’d been thinking about Auntie Lyd and it came out more harshly than I’d intended.

‘It’s okay, Rory,’ Martin reassured me, leaning closer. ‘I want to be here to support you. You don’t have to do this alone.’

I shook my head, trying to shake my thoughts into order. Of all the strange things that had happened today, Martin’s continued presence was the most inexplicable.

‘Martin,’ I asked, ‘what are you doing here?’

‘I’m here to help, Rory,’ he said, his voice puzzled. ‘I just want to help.’

‘But why?’ I stared out of the windscreen.

I was afraid if I looked at him I was in danger of bursting into tears. In all of my frenzied post-break-up imaginings, I’d always thought I’d be furious and angry with Martin if I
ever saw him again. I’d rehearsed my cutting remarks and vicious put-downs until I thought I had them off by heart. But now he was here, sitting next to me in his car, the script was all
wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be being helpful and kind; I wasn’t meant to be exhausted and emotional. A few drops of rain landed on the glass and started to slide downwards.

‘Well, I got the phone call and it – it just seemed the right thing to do,’ Martin stammered. ‘I thought you’d be grateful for some help.’

‘I am grateful,’ I said, still staring ahead. I had to stay calm and not start wailing about why he was torturing me by being all helpful and boyfriend-like. ‘I am. Thank you.
You didn’t have to do any of it. But I don’t understand why you’re still here. Why you want to come into the house.’

‘Rory, I know,’ he answered, clutching the steering wheel tightly as if he was going to wrench it off the dashboard towards his chest. ‘I know I ruined everything. I’ve
been a total arsehole. I wish I could tell you how much I regret it. It’s just – I got the phone call about your aunt and it seemed like a sign. A sign that I could make things up to
you; make you see how sorry I am.’

My head spun. What was he trying to say? And why did he think my aunt’s heart attack had anything to do with him? As if she’d only collapsed to allow him some kind of emotional
epiphany about his ex-girlfriend.

‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘I can see you’re sorry. But I think you should go now. Back to your new girlfriend.’

‘No, Rory, you don’t understand.’ Martin clutched at my elbow to try to get me to turn around. I cast my eyes downwards. ‘Me and Melinda – it wasn’t really
anything. It took you moving out to make me see that was nothing more than a stupid fling. It’s all finished now. Rory, please, I need you to forgive me. I need you to come home.’

I couldn’t take it in. For two months I’d dreamed that moving out would make Martin miss me and beg for my return. I’d imagined him turning up at the house, pleading for
forgiveness. I’d fantasized about it endlessly. When I hadn’t been imagining dark acts of revenge, of course. But not like this. Not now.

‘I miss you, Rory,’ he said softly. ‘I miss everything about you. I want you to come back. I want our life back.’

‘Oh, Martin,’ I sighed, so incredibly tired. I felt dizzy. It had been hours since I’d eaten. Perhaps that was why I even felt a bit sick. ‘I’ve got to go.’ I
started scrabbling at the door handle to get out.

‘Can’t we at least talk about it?’ he asked, holding on to my arm and looking at me imploringly. He was usually so in control, so dominant; I wasn’t used to seeing him
like this, pleading and apologetic. That was usually my role.

‘Not now,’ I said. ‘It’s too much.’ I was trying so hard to be strong, to push him away, but the truth was I was so tired and confused that I was afraid I was just
going to bury my head in his chest and let him look after me like he’d always done.

‘I know it’s too much right now, Rory,’ said Martin, lifting up my chin to look into my eyes, sensing me weakening. ‘But I’ll be back tomorrow, and the next day. As
long as you need me. And as long as it takes for you to realize that I still love you, and you love me, okay?’

‘I don’t know,’ I mumbled. I wasn’t at all sure it was okay.

‘I know you’re angry. I deserve it. I’m going to make it up to you, I promise. At least let me come and take you to the hospital tomorrow?’ Martin pleaded, his hand on my
thigh. ‘Please?’

It felt too tiring to carry on arguing with him. And it would save me getting the bus to the hospital. ‘Okay,’ I agreed, pulling away and opening the car door. ‘Thanks,
Martin’

‘It’s the least I owe you, Rory. Sleep well. I’ll be back tomorrow.’

He waited in the car as I crossed the pavement and climbed the steps up to Auntie Lyd’s front door; they seemed to shift and slide under my feet like an escalator, unbalancing me. Or was
it knowing Martin was watching my every move that was so unsettling?