Take the boyfriend the Erturk who pretended to work so hard. He kissed and nearly bedded and then charged. My passport in my hand my head confused. He wanted £70, but we’ve kissed? Part of the service. What was he James Bond that he charged with his smelly breath and laundry so dirty it made me sick?
I paid such a service to his ego. He was amused as he got the money counted out note by note. He ate his supper as I had cooked and whistling left. I was enraged. I was so much humiliated in fact gobsmacked. He charged. His garlicky breath whistling in a tuneful manner. You know that irritated me even more. I will never mate with someone like that, in fact if a man charges again I will take his bullocks off.
I went to bed in a very bad mood. After giving him advice on his laundry and his house and he being so silent. I thought he liked my advice his friend said she’ll do it. She married to a man she did not love and he so obliging I thought probably married her for her passport. This Erturk was the real guy in her life. Her father took him to court. He was arrested and the husband could now divorce and that was that.
I sat up in bed unable to sleep. It was such a putdown to be asked to pay for services rendered. He a prostitute was he? He serviced everyone like he had me? Did he charge all the girls? I think not. He has an over inflated ego you know. I did not enjoy it which made it worse.
He in his fifties and me 19. It would never work with him. I probably end up poisoning myself or him. It would be an ordeal to cook and clean in that house? Oh no I would never settle probably end up having affairs with youths. I wonder what it would be like to have affairs with youths. I probably get caught I always do. And probably end outside in the streets because mum and dad said they would never have me back if I married him.
I wonder what it would be like to have a husband one did not love. It might be awful like Mr. Collins he would be put away in the back room out of sight with the furniture in the way so that he would be forgotten until the right time to dust him off. Even Mrs. Collins is pregnant so at night he was dusted and in the morning put into the orbit to be the snob he was. I would not have minded being Mrs. Collins as she had to have the house. Poor Lizzie marries Mr. Darcy and gets the castle. I don’t know it might be too large the castle you know all those things to remember. Where did Mr. Darcy go and what is he doing and would he remember to come back and which room would he find Lizzie.
State room or master bedroom or the wardrobe or the dustpan. Economies and waste all the waste in the world would not do at such a respectable match and when one makes these matches what does one do afterwards? Sit and look outside and wonder what would have happened if luck had not smiled? I try not to think about the castle I’ve messed up. It is such a fitting end to not end in the castle or mansion. I would not have minded going on a visit to see what it felt like.
But he the penultimate one would not let me. He said I would burn it down or would not fit. I smiled to myself he wants all I have and would not even let me go on a visit. Although I did say I would burn it down maybe he fears me more than he lets on? He wanted me to go to Buckingham palace I never visit royalty. I would lose myself I thought it is as if these people always want something but never return anything back. They take for granted that their charm is always to hand and their breeding does not interfere with their pleasures but snobs are hell to live with.
I know snobbery is a science that being a snob is considered being well bred and good nature is considered to be foolish. I wish it were not so. I always endeavour to be good natured it is the best to be so because being a snob is harmful to the environment. The people you despise are the people in the end you come to depend on. That is what happened to dad and that is what happened to me and the penultimate one. I started off as strong willed better than my parents and ended up working to keep them.
They made me eat my words they did. They made me rue the day I had ever said I wanted a better life. For I was to be the worker to work all day without a book to my name so that they would be able to relax and enjoy. It seemed an odd place to be in. After all my dreaming and dreams laid to rest in a wardrobe like a petal I fell apart.
“So now what now? Now you are destitute come pleading to us to house and feed you? “Their cruel mouths working in the joke of the situation.
“I did not mean it!”
“You meant it alright you now do as we say. No more the holy one no more the girl. You are no longer beautiful and untouched you are marked by something. Your life is now in our control. You have got to do as we say. We took you out of the street took you in.”
“Yes you took me in.”
“So we did. We’ve saved your life.”
“I wish you hadn’t.”
“You got a nerve to quarrel with us.”
“I wish never to have been born to such a family.”
“Prove it to us that you are a good girl and we’ll help you to enjoy your stay.”
“Work. Your sisters are good girls they would never run off.”
“What do they do?”
“They are family they are going to be ladies they are being trained to marry men who are worthy and good. While you will marry no one for no one will have you. Because you smell of the streets.”
I smell of the streets.
“Yes I smell of the streets. I will always smell of the streets to you. No value never valued. My life thrown in the river would have meant more. This little life without a raft what will I do? What can a woman do but do the dishes? Cook and clean and waste the mornings in labour that is tedious in the extreme. I wish I had a choice. Hobson’s choice really to the streets or to the gas oven. They have made the gas smell so now I can’t even gas myself.”
“They really think of everything don’t they?”
“Mother. Oh mother don’t say that don’t say that because you are now with the upper hand but one day I swear I’ll make you repent those words.”
“By that time the cows will come home. I’ll be old and wasted and dead set in this ringed world. This is my house and half own it. What property do you have? You have nothing but the clothes you stand in. You have nothing not even a name.”
“Don’t say that my name is good. I’ll prove it one day I will be someone and you’ll be able to point me out in the crowd as a great artist or writer or even a thinker.”
Laughs out loud.
“You are amusing. Look you smell let me put rose water on you.”
“Why this cruelty? What did I ever do to harm you?”
“You made us all go to the doctors would not listen when I said not to educate your sisters and to cap it all made us work in this stupid cafe. While I had dreams of running away from life you made me stay.”
“But I did you all a favour?”
“To work in this cesspit you mean? The sink is blocked get it fixed the potatoes need peeling get it done, the dishes if you please need doing what have you been doing all day?”
“You do it?”
“I can’t do it I have a good name.”
“You have a good name?”
“Are you questioning my good name?”
“Because if you are your father needs to be told about it.”
“You know I had a friend just like you.”
“Good or bad?”
“Oh she was a bully ended up pregnant.”
“I will never have a child again because of you. Because of you I had to have warfarin and they eat the bones of the child. I miscarry. You are to blame. God will make you rot in hell for that. God’s good intentions I had not realised when the devil said for you to run from home. You are to blame for all our troubles. ”
And she continued infinitum definitely infinity was a shadow of rage for her. She couldn’t believe I could do anything but cause trouble. I got into trouble not pregnant but nearly broke the law. I a con! Nothing. I nothing but trouble. Trouble follows me everywhere I am seeped in ill will, there is nothing but ill will towards me and others don’t care there is no one to care for this troubled me. I sit in my corner nursing my wounds. I see too much you see. I see too many things at once and there is nothing I can do about seeing I see the pathetic world as it gazes over in its own corruption and troubles without realising that we are part animal that we must use our senses to survive but we have dressed in our suits and we think we do not need to fear our well heeled friends. Then one day in the cinema with Tom and his posh people as if they are the new royalty or is it this feeling of awe they inspire? After mum I think I am going to find calm and clear waters these waters are just as muddy. Is it snobbery or is it good will or is it time to bonk off? If one discusses that never ending job with its prospects and its knock on times on and off and its offensive to inquire delicately how one manages to survive on benefits and if I am a good time girl without any prospects. Look I am me is that enough to sustain this world of snobs and ill will? Nothing is remarked nothing is said but there is a divide between these people and me. There is something so obviously crude about this kind of snobbery as if the world has caved in and not allowed this section of the community outside its cage. The actors are different the manners are the same what kind of a person I’m I to be always in this improbable world? This world cannot have been made into reality. The film is about to start everyone bored everyone seem to have seen it before. This is not reality is it? This can’t be real is it? It is not possible is it? I have left all this behind me now it is here again this ugliness that is my despair to attract these bored intellectuals. I am with dishonesty, but young with all the snobs at me with hammer and tongs. Now let me explain dishonest snobs tell you about the goals of life. That without striving and work there can’t be money and they tell the same old story over and over as if it is mantra of life. The Buddhist in me is hurt can’t they see sense in what I am? I am trying to do a difficult art and it is so difficult that someone has to feed me why not the state? I do not have a pension I do not have much money but I do occasionally have someone who places me in these impossible situations. Look I am not in love for nothing does being in love make me into a class snob? Snobbery is the twisters of truth; it is reflected in his eyes and Tom not even conscious you know. I wonder if he knows that his future is in the hands of a snob. I wonder if snobs will make good husbands. Excuse the wife she works in the kitchen does the nappies not in the job description? Of course it is not someone has to do it? I wonder how much money one needs to pay a good nanny to do all that. What is the point? The perfect world of deceits and ill will as if it is eating entire England Middle England is disappearing to the likes of us. I am not to blame is it my fault middle England is no more? Take that this is the real world with all its mad people without prospects not everyone has a job to be able to survive one must be in a job. What about art and living and responsibilities and sense of proportion there is the door look there is the door without a prospect how can you dare to come into this respectable responsible family? Look you are not my mother in law. But this deathly quietness as if the body language could not say enough. People are snobs they are snobs without doing anything but one job I’ve had several jobs at the same time and accomplished them all to everyone’s taste. Look I am better than you I am better than even him. I am not going you know I am going to find out all about you and report all present and correct and then it will be you whose goodbyes.
On with the new off with the old I think therefore I am not this little woman with the bent on being. I am bent I am bending it like Beckham I am going to be strong because otherwise this will eat me like they have tried in my youth and there is always tomorrow to fight this war. No this war is insidious and decisive I will be corrupted by too much knowledge. I am ok with this I see too much and I will see what this means to me as a person. The door is there, otherwise stay clear of this family. How much money are you desirous in offering this self satisfied writer of no account? He is offering me a lot more with interest free credit and perks. I get to sort out the domestic situation in lieu of something better turning up. You know I have met a lot of fools in my life but this takes the fool’s cake. I think one of us is making a cake of himself or herself I am not after money but prestige although the interest free credit will come in useful when I can have four houses and then I will not need to get engaged or married and pay my taxes in perfect harmony with the system and I will not say to everyone I am a failed writer.
I do so adore people like him; he brings out the talons in claws in a satisfactory manner. I can write about young man with their snobbery and slights as if they were the medals of my dreams. I love being told I am nothing for that is who I am. I am nothing but mere trifle with and he is trifle insecure and I am in love, but this crass youth whose lay I see as he seems to see mine. We gallop at the ready to see who talk’s sweetness first it is pure vinegar and honey mixed up. Tom is unaware of all this going on because it might be imagining with this someone who reminds me of a playwright I used to know. Now disappeared into oblivion, in the past. This might be her mistake, Tom’s daughter’s mistake. I am not family so can’t interfere, worse luck, Tom doesn’t realise what is going on, he thinks the young man is honest. I don’t think he is a gentleman, as he gallantly offers Tom’s daughter a beer. She accepts reluctantly, as if it is her bedtime drink, like milk or something to get her into the mood of the thing.
I seem to see this pattern repeated if in doubt offer the Miss a drink. Seems to work or do the trick. I am like a cat with the milk, it is obvious the young man is insecure it is as if they are in a glass cage. I seem to see no air in their interlocked relationship as if their being with each other depends on this and that and not in their free will. I wonder if she had not been beautiful and he handsome and eligible? You know being a crow is not too bad after all you see what people are like. And I had thought I had made an effort to be presentable with my best clothes on but people like that smell money and breeding a mile off. I am a stray cat a Shaman I have family with breeding I must recommend them to him they will enjoy the cocktail. It is not for me cocktails, not after all that washing up I have done. Now I want everyone to have the real thing. This cock and bull is too like the parties of youth that will pass like wine in the desert. The shifting sands of time are such a mesh mash of things that I see clearly that these people are trapped because they are meant for each other not because of their natures but because their social positions. They are both eligible. What is nature? Being true to what one is what one feels? Who is one? These trapped individuals are trapped because they have been successful. Not because they want to be where they are but because there is no other option. No free options, with discounts without familiarity old families screaming mannered. Parties and getting to know the Jones, the likes of me and the likes of them; what are we all about? Middle England and I want to throw up. This is snobbery they are mad with snobbery. If Dickens came down from the paths of the debtor’s prison, he would be frowned upon blacking factory work shy no prospects. Narrow world woman no name. A writer who has not made it an old writer without any prospects not even decent money to his name. Now if a bestselling author then we can begin talking business then the family talons will grip the daylights out of you. We will welcome you into the very bosom of society. That is why I became a dishwasher to escape all that. Any way society does not have a bosom in fact society is a group of individuals with nothing but how to beget more of what there is not. Society is the human’s worst enemy. In fact if it weren’t for society and their feeding on talented people who feed on praise there would have been more art work done and more books written.
I don’t need people to tell me I am nothing I know I am nothing. In fact I have it on very good authority that there is nothing or no one like me for getting into scraps and being obnoxious and biting nails and being in the way of people who want to get on in life. In fact I am a miserable creature who must be trodden on without even a remorseful thought because I am one of those people that people make a habit of treading on. I feel like going home and not bothering to see the film it is so depressing seeing all this middle England. And they young. I mean youth should be tolerant and full of ideals this man has sold his ideals in order to make something from nothing. He does have something to offer what is that? Oh dear where did charity begin? I MUST not say anything I don’t want to cause trouble I am deeply in everyone’s way. I will not be pushed around. I have been pushed around too many years to be a pebble I am free no longer this is what it is going to be like. No wonder the girl is bored. It is not in her blood all this. I feel like my mother I am full of venom and spite it is being spiteful with the man’s lay and he being with someone he likes and is fond of. Well I must not get in his way the poor sod does not know about the likes of me being in the family. He would to be in the same family with me and he is so certain I would be delighted to be in the same family with him? I must say it is obvious he reminds me of my ex. The same preserving persistence and the same dogged determinism and the same glint in his eye. Look what happens to me with this kind of people I normally avoid like the plague. I must get out of here it is so hot with the film barely touching on what I want to see I don’t know why Tom brought me here. Has he gone mad? These people will swallow me up. I wonder if I can get rid of the man who is in the way of my happiness. If I found all the dirt on him he might be told to sod off. I might not succeed and I might be told to sod off? That would be good won’t it? After all that I am still the same insecure maniac I used to be. I wonder if I have been washed outside with the bathwater. I feel cold as if this is not the life I would have chosen and here I thought Tom was a depressive. Now it is not on to lead me on like that and here he is being someone important with a social position with toads like him toadying. I wonder if my ex has any daughters’. My ex had more of a social position, this man might like that? He might toady off with the ex’s girl and then we can get a nice young man for Tom’s daughter?
Nice masculine with a taste in the arts and him with a good brawn and brain. I wonder if Tom knows anybody like that. Not for me for her my future step child. Look it is ok being insolvent, but when one thinks the world is one’s child, one is up against a creek. It is time to call it a day. Let them get on with it. I won’t say another word. Not another bloody word on the bloody subject.
I can’t leave it alone I can’t seem to think it out to figure out the problem what can I SAY or do those will make a difference? I have never made a difference at all. Life times of observation not valued because I had washed dishes. I am not a total nobody I happen to have rich relatives but they too have disowned me. They made me say that a woman like me has to be dropped because I had a boy friend that has not married me. That is Turkish logic for you he was not about to marry a dishwasher was he? Not everyone is mad like Tom are they? And he being a prince not Tom but the penultimate one was the thing that stood in our way. Like lead it was my being a dishwasher was permanent. I was locked with the sink in eternal embrace and it was such an inseparable thing between us. One is what one is and can’t be different. The nostrils go up again I that kind of a nostril it is like a horse when the horse is about to bridle. I wonder what I can do to unseat the horse.
He should not have bridled I have his secret. I am fidgeting now it is such an important manner I fidget in. I like being difficult. I am now being courted by Tom and the girl’s boy friend is very busy patting the girl as if she were a prize he has just won from the jumble sale not that he goes to any jumble sales but he likes a bargain when he sees one.
To remember days gone. To remember but those days when life was even more of a struggle when eating was a triumph when the days were lonely and dull always snowing as if the skies had tumbled down. It is there in my heart that the snow did not melt. I was the snow queen with all my demons from hell on my heels petrifying me. What I saw of myself was extended into what there was. People were pretending who they weren’t. There were untruths and falsehoods and lies. Everyone somehow lived a lie. Pretending perfect bliss classiness and being secure in a world without any fact.
I the tormented was invited to a place to work which was a showcase for something more sinister. The people glared into one looking for thrills and money. They saw me as a commodity. After boss used up then it would be their turn. I was very enchanted with this prospect. My prospective boy friend looked on at me delighted with me. I was equally delighted with him but he had to pass certain tests. Endurance and calibre and manly tests that we Turkish women put our men through. It is traditional and wise to make the man pass these tests it passes the courtship and makes the woman feel some power before surrender. What happens when the man fails the tests? She does not marry him.
Does not lie with him does not acknowledge him does not make him a present with it does not say good day to him says bye byes to him. What happens when he does not accept her decision? All out war my friends all out war. It is beastly what happens between a man who does not succeed and a woman who wants nothing to do with the man because he is not the man she wants, or is looking to fulfil herself with. Even if the man is a prince? Especially if he is a prince. What to give up obscurity and accept notoriety and being shy into the bargain? Death to peace death to all that.
Death to youthful dreams of peace and quiet death to all that is British luck death to all that is good in one. What in hell am I supposed to have done wrong it is the thing in my blood is it my fault if I am imperfectly informed? Life is not perfect ok it would have been easy if I had given in and been a jerk accepted a farm accepted my pension and been a good lay. I am not a dog, nor a cat I am not like his employees out to do the greedy thing to humour him adore him and left cast aside outsider in the cold without any goodness left. I am me is that impossible to be? I am me because of all that strength I am about to be exploited is it any wonder I wonder why I didn’t go with the penultimate one? I was being forced into prostitution. I saw the four poster bed it was there freely offered me as if on a dish this is where you belong he said.
“Did I?” Oh God to be so exposed to this to see this before going to hell.
“Which side will you sleep on?”
“I don’t know maybe the left or the right?”
“How about the centre?”
“How about the foot of the bed?”
“How about me burning the bed?”
“It is walnut you can’t burn a walnut bed?”
“You seem to be burning this relationship.”
“Look you can’t accept marriage or expect all that because you are a dishwasher.”
“I can move on.”
“Then move on it has been five years since we met and you still haven’t moved on.”
“I barely survive all this?”
“How about my putting your penis on the mantelpiece with all the rest of the junk?”
“I might have uses for it other than a show piece?”
“Look fuck off we don’t speak the same language!”
“I’m speaking perfect English I want to share my four poster bed with you?”
“I have a house or flat anywhere you care to come with me? I’ll show you where?”
“I’ve got to do the washing up there are plates as high as your arms and I don’t have time to be doing all that.”
“I’m going to destroy all this that you have fucking you is my business and you aren’t even meeting me half way.”
“How many girls have you fucked recently?”
“My point that is my point.”
“What does that have to do with anything? You are always flirting? Do I complain?”
“Oh yes you do.”
“Then come with me and I’ll be as faithful as you?”
“You know I can’t be faithful to you.”
“I don’t care for your lifestyle we haven’t the common ground.”
“Please come with me I can give you a good time.”
“I like being miserable.”
“Why do you always end up winning the argument? You’re maddening you know. You’ll go too far one of these days and I’ll end up hurting you!”
“Oh it is so nice of you to say that you haven’t hurt me now is that it?”
“Give in to me?”
“Give in to me”
“No kissing me to kiss you changing the subject again that is what you are doing.”
“You know my dear if you can’t stand the heat get out of the kitchen.”
“You whore you bitch I can’t stand you bloody bitch of a bloody whore.”
“Now now it is very unmannerly to come to another person’s house and call them names go to your own place and call those people whatever you like.”
“Ah you bitch.”
“It is a simple fact you know that when I haven’t got anybody to help with the dishwashing and you changing the subject as it is I am short staffed you go and play with your toys while I change the sink water that is a good boy.”
“What did you call me?”
“I called you a man with the dick now go and get laid.”
“I will you know.”
“You and I are through you know that don’t you?”
“I’m not through with you yet.”
“I shouldn’t tell you this but there is someone else in my life.”
“I’ll get rid of him immediately and you’ll be sorry you ever met him.”
“That should be interesting even exciting. How you love to get rid of my friends. It is a passion with you but you still haven’t done the thing that I want until you find out what you need to do I am not letting you in.”
“What haven’t I done?”
“When you figure it out I’ll tell you I am always fair?”
“I have too much to think about to be thinking out that problem.”
“Exactly my point with it. If you can’t figure out that problem then we can’t you know and you have been spreading yourself too many times over it must be over work.”
“Patronising bitch. I’ll teach you a lesson tonight I am having the biggest bash there is ever going to be seen. It will be talked about for years to come?”
“April fools is it?”
“Who do you think you are?”
“Just a bitch with a sink. Don’t you are hurting me.”
“One day you are going to do it then we will see who is hurting who?”
“I’m going shaky with it all. “
“Nervous are you?”
“No not at all.”
“But you seem to mind the bash tonight?”
“It might be interesting something to interest you. You know you don’t have enough to do.”
“Me not enough to do? You mad?”
“Oh I see you have too much to do?”
“Well I have too now you are in my way get lost because I have to clean the tables.”
“Banal that is what this is.”
“Someone has to do this.”
“Mortgages have to be paid.”
“I would have done it for you if you had...”
“Yes what a good idea.”
“Loo paper is missing?” SHOUTS dad.
“Bloody old man.” Says the man.
Dad dying was the best thing that happened to me. His death spelt my release from my prison. His death meant my living; his death meant mum went mad. She began to demand that she is next to God in importance. That she should be looked after that she was the one most important that she should be seen to. Mum said she had given me life and expected to be treated like a sultan. Herself in the maze of being herself this is her than? All the years of protecting an idiot? All the family seem to agree with mum that she is the most important that I should not be doing anything but looking after her and the shop. What rights does the individual have? According to the family there is no right only that I should look out for all of them that there is nothing talented about me that there is nothing to do all day but to gaze into mum’s eyes and look after that humanity that has been charred beyond recognition. There is nothing there anymore just this silly old woman without anything left but her will to survive. She wants to upset me most of the time she succeeds she is this little thing with spite she sits in the corner thinking about her ailments. She does not go out she is too upset to, she gets nothing but food and TV she thinks she is in heaven by looking at the screen. Her brother ignores me her children chid me her grand children are too young what is a spinster sprinting into mid 50’s do? I’m doing a course in social psychology it is the only way not to do anything by doing something keeping busy, trying to not to top myself is the biggest challenge sometimes darkness comes into me as if seeping from the walls. I fear to speak out in case they want to hit me or bully me it is my crime that I have no family of my own but them.
The monsters glare into my soul saying things, spiteful things why don’t I knuckle under? I am a monster too you know my mum has made my life hell, sisters too penultimate does not allow me to go out or go on holiday. Is it any wonder I feel a bit trapped in a no go area? I am no longer young what is it I’m supposed to have done to all these people? Greed and fear of losing some of their incomes that is what has upset them. Care homes are expensive and they have been spending their money like water. I fear that if I start to scream abuse at them I will have to leave the house never to return. I screech quiet as a mouse LIVING day to day something is bound to turn up. What nothing’s turned up nothing at all this is the first day of the month and I am turning this way and that writing this rubbish. What and nothings turned up I will die of shame if this relationship too won’t work out. This is it I will turn into property letting and buying but when will the land be sold? Everything is taking forever. I am turning into a stone. Sexual activity is at the minimum I am turning into a stone. When my heart will break? When will that happen? I AM turning into stone everyone happy except me.
Happiness some say is not with other people? Is that right? Can other people make one unhappy? Where is the companions I longed to find? I am turning into stone my heart is crackling with glee to see so many of my pieces in there here and everywhere. I must find the piece that fits my heart. Where did I GO wrong what turning was the wrong turning? Where did life cripple this poor woman? Look she is prostrate crying in shame she has suffered she never had a proper relationship until 51. What has she done that is a crime what is her sin? Where did she go wrong? What tide did twist her arm? What has fate done to her this woman in the dock alone weeping to be heard because now she is in charge of an imbecile her mother and she doesn’t want to be? Her family have deserted her; she is cast into the land of the carer she earns about £100 a week she has been on that for most of her life. There she goes in the dock cast aside neglected she is to be stoned by her neglected heart she will not be heard first she shall be stoned with her tears which have cast her in shame as she is breaking under the strain of her weight. Her will power is deserting her she has become a cast away on a ship going nowhere forever at sea forever at sea no anchor she shall rot at sea. She understands most would not but she understands where she went wrong but she doesn’t want to admit she has been at fault if someone had bothered to explain it to her maybe she would have understood. The verdict is not been reached the jury have difficulty finding if there is a case to be answered the jury have been out for a long time. The many tears she has found to release her chains. She can’t walk the dog forever she has to find something to do with herself. Maybe she should go to a ball and party like everyone else? She is not invited she creates boredom she doesn’t like crowds she is shy. What is the meaning of this scandal what is the meaning of these words? Undo, erase it at once this is a no nonsense world where no mistakes are allowed. Please sir will you go to hell and leave me to rot? There are no corpses and one cannot cop it if there aren’t any death scenes. This is a respectable novel with nothing happening. Just like Henry James you know William James brother? Who are they when they are at home? Were at home you mean they have sadly become no longer living and able to create it is a sad fact of life that death comes to everyone and living die too.
“Are you threatening me bitch?”
“ Yes I am taking all my belongings and giving them to Germany. That will teach everybody a lesson including me.”
“ Why Germany why not Cyprus?”
“ Because Cyprus has the mafia and too many relatives with wit they will steal my things and I will not be intimidated by those people who have nothing but blood.”
“ What about Britain?”
“ Britain does not pay its artists so I think I best leave it to those people who have shown me a bit of kindness.”
“ That is that then you are suicidal?” Homicidal I fear I am about to murder my babies my novels my plays my stories I am putting them into a pile and setting alight to them so that no one will see the struggle I made that they will just see this lazy good for nothing slattern and that will be that. I am not free without this greed this hunger this life what else is there? There is fulfilment somewhere? No there is absolutely nothing but enmity and pomposity and nothing but being nothing. I a servant of my mum and the sand castle the family I will wash up do the meals and make violent passionate love only to have nothing. Be nowhere nothing at all but a waste of space. I am a waste of space actually someone else must do all this work. I am sure people will take pride in my achievements they are out there beaver away trying to destroy what there is of mine. All this is very inconvenient you know. It is not done it is not Tiffin. When is the time for all that sort of things you fool? What with the ageing population how many of us Emine’s are there? We glide merrily having missed our chances and we spend the rest of our lives missing boats and ships and volcanoes and canoes and sinking sands and shifting ground. Is it any wonder that there is nothing to do but to be a carer with plenty of non caring thoughts?
I myself you know has the jury issued a verdict am I to be released from the tyranny of myself? This exiled thoughtless me? This exiled thoughtless drifter this lack of commonsensical nonsensical thing that I am? What nonsense you talk? I talk less than nonsense I speak the truth as people can’t stomach it they turn against me. It is usual to come to blows with all that I speak, they think they know me then when I speak the truth they cease wanting to know me. I am a traveller with no place to go saying hellos and goodnights without a will to myself to drift is all that I can do for there is nowhere to go. No one has come and said this is the woman I want take care not to offend her for then I will be offended. No one has said that word that important word. No one has stood up to me and won the round and every round I went I had to battle it myself. I’m I being too womanly when I say that is what I want to happen? That is my dream?
The jury has not reached a verdict whether to live or to send me to rot with this woman my mum who happens by sexual activity to have brought me into the world and is now God.
“You blaspheme. You shameless hussy to say that about your mum!”
“No the stork brought me into the world in a pillow!”
“My God you disgusting pervert.”
“Not at all that is what she believes that it was not sex it was an ordeal placed there to try her and she lived up to it. In fact I remember that she seemed to like nothing better.”
“You are too free with your memories.”
“I don’t care it is the truth.”
“What is the reason behind all this truth? Who wants to hear the truth anyway? There is nothing like lies to oil the wheels and make the world an interesting prison.”
“I want to be free.”
“What no more lies?”
“No more of all that let there be truth and light and reason and less shame.”
“Where in the world did parents go wrong?”
“I can’t say there is always a black sheep.”
Ah God to know the truth and it hurts the truth hurts like a diseased mind it gnaws at me playing with all my mind making my imagination my prison.
Why do I feel such a rage of imprisonment? It is as if the brakes are gone as if I am propelled into a world of deceit and lies as if my mind is made into a cloud. Why do the images in my mind not live up to my feelings? It is forever dark in here there is no light as if my mind is in the clouds. Who am I to speak there is no one to tell my tale it is a sealed book without anyone willing to break the seal. I am forever sealed from myself as if the pages are stuck together in old fashioned paper. I am not free. I am not afraid anymore because I am not bound in the past like I had been. But there is no future, there is only the present, as if that matters the most. The past does not matter the future does not exist it is the present that is the most pressing on me.
I fear to go forward as if going forward will mean the end of self this me that I know this I that is where would that go? I fear to find myself in myself I fear to let me alone and I fear to lose everything and I fear to be me in case me is bad. I go lightly without a torch and I am filled with the springy steps of this and that men. They follow me everywhere with this and that intent. If I had been someone else I would have asked their intentions is it strictly dishonourable or have they some decency? That is an unfashionable word unfathomable in this society of pigs where to eat big is to be big. Big fish eat the little fish that is what everyone does that is considered normal. It is abnormal to think small it is abnormal to be small it is ok to be big and mean and nasty. I will try to be big and nasty too. The thing was there was too many people against her she was unattended there was nothing to do but surrender to the evil in herself. The jury has become undecided it is up to the second jury to decide what the first jury could not come to terms with let the second jury decide what the first jury could at first get glimpses of. It is all confusion you know when will society decide what the juries dare not decide? It is a fact of life you can’t send your daughters to the whorehouse even if she did run away from home. The jury was out to get her and everyone was against her then the mistakes she had made for the great and the noble got inside her made her dangerous to them made them scared of her frightened that their secrets would be out.
“Attempted rape is a crime.”
I’ve just joined the social whirl of activity. This and that happens life is not all about one thing and novels certainly are not. You know a novel must have humour otherwise ends up in the pile of the un-reads. Or what the editors don’t want is to see no social activity or whirl about and turning the page means being varied. So I took myself off on social activities, one must do all that to see the sights of life. One sight was the penultimate and his nasty piece of nonsense. He wants me to become a call girl. Do I look like a call girl? I bite my nails don’t indulge in drugs and certainly if I don’t love the man I can’t stand being touched. So if I fall in love ten times a night would that be ok? But I am not fickle; I am reliably informed that I am too reliable. I saw the sights of dustbins being bashed and men being hit and somebody dying. Probably a call girl, stabbed in the street as if without meaning as if she a stray cat. While the world looks on society at me without a trace I’ll disappear and know nothing but this endless night.
“You haven’t been around lately?”
“No,” It is my relative the one with millions must not breath his name can’t contaminate the old sod. He lives somewhere in England or is it Grosvenor place I am suitably impressed.
“You haven’t sold any of your books?”
“It is no work for woman a woman should have suitable employment doing accounts or secretary or even business. No poetry and writing art is for man.”
“Leave it to the men to do everything like changing society and the world.”
“We live in it too? We too live in this place I want to fart too.”
“It is so unladylike!”
“There’s no lady I am not a lady what gave you an idea that I was?”
“It is a sad fact that you never married and are having relations?”
“What relations I HAVEN’T.”
“Don’t deny it. Your auntie sees you every year going with different cab drivers.”
“What? Not my unmentionables!”
“Cabbies who are married you even take them on trips all round Cyprus.”
“Mum can’t walk what else am I supposed to do allow the cabbie to starve? Or get sun stroke?”
“It is a fact of life that we are born equal.” From far away from his wife. She gloats at me with her slim figure I am to be made an example of.
“It is not on?”
“My books don’t sell anything more. My books don’t sell it will never sell in my life time. I don’t know why everyone is ganging on me is it my fault if I am brilliant and different?”
“Then work.” Says the desperate relative.
“I am working but not earning.”
“What a nonsensical girl you are.”
“I don’t enjoy weddings you know.”
“Then don’t come. I’ll see to it that you are never invited to one again.”
“Good that will solve the problem of what to wear and my wearing the same dress to six weddings won’t be an issue.”
“Actually it was four. We are no longer nobodies we have to keep abreast that we are one of the leading families that we must make this a new concept of snobbery and thrift and strive towards making the family look good. Never darken this door again or mend your ways.”
“I’ve been thrown to the lions out of Eden into being a total nobody.”
What on earth does it mean to me? No more dressing down no more embarrassing small talk. No more being seen outside of myself inside self is destroyed. But do I need these people? Does it matter if my family have cast me aside left me to rot? It strangely does. It is as if part of me is pared down cast adrift now I have no one to turn to if I go to jail. I wonder if I commit murder whether they would have said the same thing. Now alone this is me alone aside alone inside.
“Come dad come mum we are leaving this glorious party.”
“Just when we were having fun.” Gossiping with her niece.
She seems strangely intoxicated. I alone I’m sober. She is still gossiping about the old days and old ways. I gather she has a lot to say but they’ve been having the same talk for years and they all know the answers to their silly stories. The niece glares at me as she is still gossiping with the mum. I alone am tortured. I am alone in this vicious dress circle. They are all holding onto their gowns as they whirl about doing the little discussions as if their brains are not in it as if something far more is going on.
Dog eats dog and underdog is I? I spit out the chicken as if it is filled with bile. I take them to their orders and say,
“I am leaving I am getting a bus. I want to go home.”
“I thought you liked parties?”
“I’ve run out of dresses.”
“They are getting married again next week do come?”
“Let them rot in their weddings. I don’t want to see or to know these people. If I become famous I am not inviting them to a garden fete or book launch even if they want to buy all my books.”
“That is why your books don’t sell.”
“Let them bloody not sell. If I live to be a hundred I will not marry to order.”
“You won’t be asked if you are a hundred. Time is running out.”
“I’m in no hurry!”
“Woman! I wash my hands off it all. It is not fair that she is answering back.”
“That is all that I have my tongue my speech my little demented world cast adrift in my little world of make believe you tried to take my world from me. The make believe the home I have the things I know. Now I am going to tell you something but it is a waste of breath because something has gotten into you all and it is avarice and greed as if you lot are eating each other’s dresses. I wish no part in this.”
“And the cousin said,” said mum laughing away merrily as if her clanking tongue is getting more and more sharp. The cousin is giving her a hard time I go and take her away before they poison each other.
“The chicken is off?” asks another cousin as I try to piece together my impressions on that impressive evening.
“It is not off. Look he is going?”
“The millionaire cousin.”
I wish to go to but I am as if in hell. The dancing begins the money on wedding dress as the poor bride and groom stand to attention getting the £50’s and £20 notes.
“No wonder they are always marrying there is money to be made in this!”
“It is our customary thing it has always been done to help the poor newlyweds.”
“You go and put the money we have and let us get out of here.”
“Dad what are you doing?”
“Okay not even a drop?”
“He is a great man.”
“There are plenty of great men it is truth that always speaks in the end. All the great men end up telling lies.”
“Emine, Emine you poor whore haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I’ve seen you my dear.”
“Sister still married?”
“How pleased you are to see them so.”
“Delirious I’m sure.”
“What an education you are to all of us.”
“True it is so true that one is always an education to the public.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing at all. I am just admiring the view.”
“Yes we are all pretty aren’t we?”
“Yes my dears so you are. Can’t expect brains to exist as well.”
“We are all with qualifications you know.”
“It is impossible to talk to a simpleton like you.”
“Then I wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know what you have rejected.”
“A life time of regrets maybe?”
“Look we are only thinking about the family’s honour and what others might say.”
“That keeps me awake all night to see what others are saying behind my back. It is my backside talking mostly that I object to.”
“I don’t understand are you talking nonsense or about farting?”
“Work it out.”
“I always work out in the gym and cousin pays for it. If only you would do as you are told.”
“I never make other peoples mistakes.”
“But you will love the life we lead.”
“Probably will. Or won’t it might be so but what if I don’t will you come to my rescue then?”
“No because that is your decision.”
“That is my point if I make someone else unhappy too I would never forgive me or this pointless charade.”
“Look how they smooch look how happy everyone is with their true partners.”
“I dancing mum says I can’t dance.”
“Then don’t come to weddings because you are common and vulgar.”
“Never call me vulgar.”
“That is what everyone says you are.”
“Hello you things? Glad to see everyone happy?”
“Has my brain just died or is it everyone else who is talking like a 1984 novel?”
“Oh auntie she is awful. Where’s mummy?”
“Probably in hell?”
“My mum is going to heaven. She is the most charitable woman there is you can’t say she is going to hell.”
“You’ll probably join her.”
“We meet there sometime with a different gown every minute.”
“You are impossible.”
“Now what did I do or say?”
“You’ve ruined our enjoyment.”
“Because you ruined mine. I thought I was in the midst of family and you all turned out to be fashion editors.”
“Oh bah go away.”
“Drop dead gorgeous.” Blows her a kiss.
Running crying and terribly upset the young cousin goes and Emine is left to sort out the mess. Everyone is more randy than ever like they were hitting the sack. It is no longer decently possible to observe without becoming intoxicated with the manner of the new living. The ruined party convenes to the car and the parents are quiet while Emine reflects it has been over for a long time and now it was truly over she is going to be on her own. The night is balmy with the midnight coming without a car they would not have been able and now they will never be invited again or she is not Emine.
Cousins’ lives were uppermost in her thoughts what does relatives mean to someone as she? What do having relatives have to do with the daily grind of life? Where does she come into all this? What rights does a parent have over a child and a child over a parent? No rights except the rights of blood? We live and we die and parents have brought us into this world for better even for worse they control us we are our parents we think like them. We have prejudices we have their imprint we have their genes. But why do we? Even the surrogate mother is totally immersed in the child. Some woman love children they can’t have enough of themselves imprinted into little faces.
Happiest thoughts are of parents their control over my life and self. Selfish thoughts intrude they did not mean to be so cruel but they do. It is as if their lives depended on themselves being cruel even the business depended even their thoughts and feelings and their animosities were such that I would outlive them that something of theirs would live on. They did not want me to live through them. Their lives depended on this their lives and their livelihood and their lack of grammar and education was the salt in their wounds I had to be destroyed because for them to live I had to be destroyed. Now I think cousin made a deal with the man too. He got money he was short of and he had to pick a fight with me to trash me out of the family. Now is it not paranoia all this? This could be the beginnings of paranoia you know with all the world a breeding ground for the likes of the ex the prince as he swindles my life away from these and those people as I go round and round trying to find love and he always with his money blocking my path.
Cousin was near bankruptcy he was all in all he was desperately short of money. Now what better way than to short change me and he did say he would buy me a nice burial ground with all the trimmings? I a shaman I woman of no means with this fool after me with his fat purse and no sense. He would never learn would he? He would never learn will he? I go round and round the bush bruising myself and everyone near me to see all this to fear all this and to know that I was a special person without anything but my will power and my intelligence. What intelligence is there this person that you see thrown to the wolves cast adrift into the world without a penny to her name but her preening self?
I am selfish I want the world to be my world someone to love me someone to care. I am selfish and I want to seem to be always in the right. That is my world to be in the right to do no wrong not to break the law as far as possible to be honest and good to fear no one for fear is the death to freedom.
Where in the world did the neighbours come into it? I place my cushion to the winds the neighbours and I getting alarmed about nothing. They took my roots the rose bush and the camellia and they uprooted it like my cousin uprooted me from the family circle like he cast me adrift into the sands and pits of would be prostitution. I was to pay for the money he had begot I was to pay with my body but cousin did not know I was already not paying for the man in my life was not to be. He was not the right man he was not anything but a waste of my time. He was wasting his time as well as my own.
I place the plates on the table without bothering about the dollies and then I place the hot steaming stew on the other dollies and then there is a symmetry about this that is pleasing. How many women have done this? How many will do this tomorrow and the next day and the centuries to come? I am one of a string a number and the man in the penultimate game wants to put me into the treadmill to use me to discard and let his friends in and he’ll watch my despair and humiliation with glee. I am to be made into a call girl. He uses the phones to egg me on I am humbled by my given beauty to see things. I can see through them all the disguises that they partake the many sided faces they pull. He is not real? Oh but he is.
“Murder is also a criminal offence.”
“Rape and murder is a crime.”
“There is no proof?”
“I am the proof.”
“Look that we must rape the innocent and take what we have paid for that is our code of conduct.”
“Human cargo is also a crime.”
He gives the cousin his money on the condition he’ll never invite me to a wedding or to have anything to do with me. I have been sold before I have been sold before. At the auction I have been sold. These people are my relatives these monsters of good living these are my people as they go round and round the gig of life giggling hilariously. They have sold me. They have sold me. What was the price and can I sell them too? Sod them these monsters sod them all. I got the sack you know I got the sack I am selling myself to the highest bidder. He says he has billions.
“Not enough money in the bank you I do the business at £1000, 000000!”
“What?” he says, “I will be bankrupt. What on earth are you talking about you slut?”
“To do the business it will have to be that amount every time!”
“Every time? Are you trying to ruin me?”
“No it is good business sense. I am talking the language of love which you deal in.”
“But that is daylight robbery that is.”
“I don’t force you.”
“But that is despicable.”
“You are going to do it anyway I’ll make you.”
“I’ll scream my head off.”
“Who gave you that idea?”
“What a thing to tell you. You are not going to scream are you?”
“Look if I touch you and you scream the police will get involved and they’ll put you in a mental institution because I don’t exist.”
“I don’t care. It will be a time out for me with me doing all kinds of poems.”
“Yes it is a good place to write in. All that peace and communication with the great guys in great coats.”
“I’ll make sure you have a woman doctors all the way through.”
“I can’t communicate with women doctors and I always have male doctors I like their body language whereas the women doctors are soft and like fragile and I like to hurt their egos.”
“You don’t do that to me. Why on earth are you talking can you stop talking let us do this our lives are disappearing I can make you so happy and you can have everything you like.”
“Can I have a ring?”
“What as in a telephone?”
“What not that kind. I would like to see my solicitor.”
“I would like to make my will.”
“You have nothing at all you simpleton.”
“I do you know what you wouldn’t give for this thing between my legs.”
“I am not giving you millions. What would you do with a millions?”
“What burn it all?”
“That is a good idea I might burn it all I might you know I’ve never had millions to burn before. My great grandfather used to burn £5 and now I am going to burn millions.”
“I am not giving you millions to burn. Are you mad?”
“Why did your great grand dad burn £5? Impossible family are you Turks all mad?”
“He wanted whores to light his cigars with the £5!”
“Nemesis isn’t it? Now you will become a whore and I will light a £5 on you!”
“Not the same as millions.”
“Why do you have millions on your brain?”
“I’ve taken a fancy to burning millions it is better than burning one’s bra.”
“You wouldn’t burn your bra like a good girl would you?”
“I might my bras are too tight but burning millions is more classy. It isn’t like every woman doing it burning the millions is the best thing that can happen to me.”
“I forbid it. Don’t talk this way are you ill? Let us have supper and I will take you out for a meal without expenses spared and limousine and we’ll have a good time and you will see what it is like to be courted and swept into my way of life.”
“With a ring?”
“Why ever not?”
“You are totally unsuitable.”
“Who is suitable does suitable mean non ethnic or non criminal or with a criminal record?”
“Now stop that you are giving me a headache.”
“You should really see the doctor you know that is the second time this week you complained about a headache. It is most disastrous for our discussions I mean you mustn’t fall ill with something you know.”
“Like what? Mental illness isn’t catching. You can’t be taunting me you know? Do you know what I am who I am? You’ve made me into a laughing stock.”
“Yes you. Come here otherwise I am not going to let you go downstairs. Why have you gone too?”
“I am away on a away day.”
“Totally mad creature.”
“I am what I am nobody knows or understands...”
“Rotten John Clare why are you reading him? He is absolutely nonsensical a poet without a life isn’t a poet.”
“He had no millions to burn that was his trouble.”
“Fuck off. I am going to a real woman and you will have to watch me fucking.”
“I always do. I prefer porn. They make it more interesting it is more educational when I meet the right man I will perform on him and make it his worthwhile.”
“I you now stop I am performing this and that with this and that girl.”
“You are not God. I can’t be faithful to one woman. It is beneath a prince to be. Our forebears have the attitude and it is becoming a burden on my soul. This strange creature what I’m I going to do? When I love good times more than her? Yet can’t stay away from her. I want my meat and not to eat my mead is the holocaust that has set us against each other drove this lamentable girl into this fat zombie.”
“I have not always been fat. I was slim when we met.”
“You are tight. Even size 20 is too tight for you. I can’t be seen with you I WILL be a laughing stock.”
“Don’t worry I don’t wish to be seen with you either.”
“Do you want any more food shall I bring it from the kitchen so that you can burst?”
“I have burst already it is the most delicious meal I have ever cooked.”
Begins to hit her and hit her. She is always in a good frame of mind and being hit seems to upset her not at all. Emine is laughing her head off. She seems to be enjoying his fists so she glares into his mind and snaps his synapses. He groans in pain and desire leaves him. Emine is limp trying not to cry only babies cry and weak women and Emine has always been strong. He glares at her she looks at him.
“How do you do that?”
“How do you mean?”
“Arouse me and then snap my head off?”
“Good you are getting the hang of it now. That is what you are going to be a call girl.”
“Will you call first then your little friends and others beside yourself? I think I’ll burn down the building too. My father was an arsonist.”
“How dare you say that? You little whore what right have you to deny what I want?”
“You know not everybody gets what they want sometimes they get what they deserve but not everyone gets what they want.”
“I am not everyone I am a most important person I have the means to break nations.”
“Oh you mean down at Brussels with your whores?”
“Yes damn it? How did you know?”
“Luck it is.”
“Do you mean to say that you are lucky?”
“Well you did save me from drowning.”
“I’ll put you there again if it is the last thing I do. I wish I never laid eyes on you. It is not what you say or do it is something I can’t put my finger on that I just can’t leave it alone? You witch with your eyes and what used to be you now look at you a tom-tom will make it better.”
“What you mean a figure of fun?”
“Yes so you are.”
“We are the cats who have paid for our pleasures.”
Laughing goes and tries to strike her heart. She is too quick for him and they are spent waiting for the other to give up. They are in this position for some minutes then her mother calls for the shop has to be seen too. There is a million things to do everything has fallen into dirt and anarchy since she has been away. A health inspector has called and everything had been dirty the inspector will call in two hours and they all have to do the shop from top to bottom.
Emine rushes downstairs and the cleaning begins. The cleaning is done from top to bottom the place gleams in its newness and pride. The inspector calls as arranged and he says it can be done this place can be kept clean look it has been done. Goes away and Emine and her mum feel pleased with themselves that they have done all that in two hours.
All that scrubbing and the mop not out of their hands the washing and the cleaning the sink washed the surfaces the rat poo the dust on the walls the plates cleaned the litter emptied the dustbins placed so that the rats won’t feed the oily pans and saucepans the customers to see too. Everything done in less than two hours. The floors swept the garden and toilets done the washing the endless washing the oil and the dirt the filthy smell the disinfectant the place to be if one wishes to remain anonymous.
Emine could not feel her legs like the legs had icy water on them. She felt cold her mother came from the stock room. Her face red with rage. Emine did not want to look at her.
“I thought you had done the stock room?” Mum said.
“Dad didn’t want me to do it said it was a waste of time.”
“We nearly got closed because of that.”
“Well that would teach you two a lesson to do the cleaning and not to leave it all to me. Not to interfere and not to rush and tell me not to do things that is sensible to do.”
“You know I don’t know where I got you from?”
“From the pigeons?”
“That might be reasons why we could have been closed. Now go and wash yourself because the inspector will come and if he sees how dirty you are looking he might close the place for sure.”
“It’s too late he is here.”
“Dirty apron? Let me not see it.”
“Was busy doing the cleaning?” Emine said
“Ok. What is that meat doing outside?”
“Serving a customer. I’ll put it in the fridge now.” Mum answered.
“Not the freezer?”
“Oh no.” Says mum.
Violence can beget more violence when the thugs use their children to shield themselves from me. What I’m I that they can do that? They don’t like my eyes they fear to look into my soul for then they can see such as themselves reflected and their reflections bother them. Those nice men who murder and steal can get annoyed by the look in my eyes that set their tenses past and send them scurrying for cover. I learnt the trick when my dad beat me up. I looked at him with just such an expression followed him with my eyes as if hell bent on arousing his conscience. He my dad had scurried away too. Banged up mum he soon ceased following me to school. I willed him to follow me or to touch me again. He never touched me but tried to murder my thoughts that look I gave him did not help he wanted to murder me nevertheless.
He murdered my dreams he murdered everything I believed in. He murdered the good fairy and left the bad fairy. All hell broke loose, without the good fairy there was mayhem. He murdered in his way himself. Mum saw to it that there was nothing for him in the end and she playing cat and mouse with us about the inheritance now. We will inherit nothing the soldiers will get it. The Turkish soldiers with their rifles and their blood because they gave mum their blood and saved her when I was too young to give blood only sixteen you see.
I can’t see the way to end all this where will it end? What can happen? Nothing good came out of me there is nothing but blood in my vagina and it has seeped into my brain destroying me and destroying all the good will there is. I have no friends left. There are nobodies about to pack themselves off into the orbit. I am left clutching at straws. Where is he that I lost and won? Was he the man who came to the shop with his men? Is he the one who did all the cruelties to the shop? Pretending to be what he isn’t all the time he should have been an actor but he is so unbelievably modest about himself his position and his lack of trust. I will grow to love or him. I wish the former but know it will be the later. He is like all the rest. He is and all. I can’t trust anyone it seems.
I go round the bend and into my bed and he is trying to do it like we do it normally for hours but my blood having let go of my body I feel tired as if a monster has drained me. I fear to crackle instead I fear to hold on and it is as if he is letting go too. I fear to love didn’t he know that? What rights HAVE I? None. Is there such a thing as commitment and families and belonging I always wanted to belong to someone and now it appears I don’t. I don my skirt and then don my trousers and think it is as if my sadness will eat me up. I am all alone again it is such a shame to be alone with my dreams intact but my body in tatters. At least this time it was not my mind that ran away it is my body waving the last rites. I am always amused to see what will happen in a relationship I can’t stick at it. I go haywire just sensing that there is me and there is now and it is over before it has begun I will not be anybody’s play. Men shall not trifle with me. I am not to be amusement I am not an arcade. Then I think about it an arcade and rides and bumps and I fear I will go mad. Home in a wheel cart.
I a destitute little miss without the will power to say no. I wish I was dead and buried then it will be over and done with I will not bow out in shame it is less shameful then I thought it is over without anyone sensing my loss or oppression it is as if I am on fire with all the hell bending its direction at me.
Rottweiler came and I say that the man should be muzzled and I mean it you know the man should be muzzled because he nearly attacked my dog. I to see my Susie hurt. I get her home we start to cuddle and I cut her extra matted hair she loves that. Silly Susie.
The neighbour’s says “had a good Christmas?”
“Wonderfully quiet nothing to do all day but eat the usual mead.”
What a pity she seems to be saying but she can’t even she does not have the indecency to say that.
She is obviously impressed that I haven’t told her the story of my Christmas even a brief glimpse into my domestic situation did not help overcome her spleen. I am so engrossed with getting the bins out and sweeping the leaves without seeming to notice neighbourly tensions and a teenager sitting quietly by digesting what we are saying.
“Christmas is a time of family.” She glares.
“So it is.”
“It is a time to spend with the family like nature intended.”
“It is the obvious thing to do.”
“Where else can families start and be happy?”
“Nowhere I’m sure.”
“Home sweet home.”
“Homesick I am!”
“You go and see if your poor mum is in need of something.”
“I am sure she is sick and tired of not being told that the hymn is on the next page and not this page. This is the hymn book we all sing at.”
“But you a Muslim?”
“We all sing the same tune.”
“And dance the merry jig.”
“That is right. I’ve never seen you dance Jane?”
“I’ve seen you dance though?”
“When was that?”
“It must bring tears into your eyes.”
“It brings the justice of morality and the immoral have nothing to do with this street this is a nice decent street with everyone celebrating Christmas and New Year in the style of their mothers. I don’t care if you are yellow or black or red just to celebrate Christmas in the way that Jesus intended.”
“I hope so Jane. It will be awful for poor Jesus to be left out in the cold.”
“Yeah out in the streets like the devil intended.”
“But the devil walks in a sisterly manner from the North east to the South west.”
“Just like the evil witch.” Said poor Jane.
“Oh to see the whites of your eyes to listen to the chiming of the good old bells and the carols of Christmas is more than a poor sinner can bear.”
“What did you say dear Jane?”
“That the whitewashed walls need to be washed and the truth hidden from all prying eyes as if it will contaminate the social order and bring dementia into the land. It is all your fault for being a foreigner.”
“What brought on that I didn’t do anything but try to survive.”
“You are foreign and you don’t believe or think like we do.”
“I hope not. That would be awful to think in a narrow cage like you Jane.”
“How are your delightful grandchildren?” I add to Jane’s discomfiture.
“We aren’t allowed near them thanks to you.”
“Oh good thing that.”
Sweeps the leaves into the bin and cuddles the broom as if it were the male organ. Then realises and stays away from the discussion. The husband was thwarted out of the grandchildren and she will now forever be my d enemy.
She wants me to become homeless and I want to see her not see her grandchildren and we are even. These people never listen what a grand dad can do. They think to monopolise the child and to give it rides is a good thing. A grand dad should be seen and not heard if he is then someone must tell him so. Jane is sore and she sweeps as if she is sweeping me aside brushing my objections to her aiding her husband’s lusts in the wrong direction. He has the money that must be the reason that she is supporting him in his game. I will not be moved the children must be placed with their parents. Jane is so upset she is glaring at the teenage lad sat observing all this and not being a lad myself I am hiccupping with the effort at understanding what is going on around me.
There is something going on and something awful has been averted and I am in the wrong arms or the right arms because Tom is not on now. I blotted my copy book by asking for 4 houses. He says if I am to have 4 homes then I have to say yes to every sexual favour he wants and that is making me cry because I won’t say yes to everything he says it is humanely not possible. It is making me itchy to make him grovel for it. I am so moved that I even not want his bloody homes. But I do feel insecure like as if I will become homeless and destitute because I have got better and the damn government has frozen my income.
A man has to look after if he has the means and he won’t accept responsibility and I don’t know where I stand it is as if all these companions of my middle age have seeped into everything. Tom is in the dog house so I’m I. I can’t battle with everyone all the time can I? Oddly feel alive and hurt no more as if I have been rubbed and dusted. I fear to feel you see it is as if my nerve is going.
I would get everything wind up. It is impossible I went and got a blood test and today I have been to the doctor and the nurse I am fearful I will look haggard and worn all the time again. I am going to forget all about men. I might even forego sex altogether it will be alright just like old times. Oh God I feel awful.
Mum has had an assessment was just in time to see to it that she is represented as she really is and not the logician she pretends to be.
The counselling sessions will begin and I will see to it she attends she doesn’t know yet what I have set in motion when she finds out it will be out of sight out of mind. If only the money will arrive then I can pay for the house and it will be mine and no one else’s it will be mine won’t it? No one would evict me then will they? I mean now if Tom and I argued it will mean Tom has the master bedroom and I will have to sleep on the sofa won’t it? Anyway it is a bit confusing isn’t it? Where on earth do I stand in all this?
I mean I feel a bit silly arguing with Tom where I will stand if we argued and it is turning into a big great row. Anyway it is a bit like saying if I banged the teapot will it break and breaking the teapot to see if it will break. I don’t understand it but it has turned out to be a great big row without end and it is twisting me into a bitter old hag. I see lines on my face and I look pale and older as if the bloom I have had has disappeared with the blood.
The ex was there he looked at me with animosity he thinks I am going to have another of those disastrous relations I usually have maybe he is right? I just want to move into the bedroom permanently and not get up. It is as if all the bloody hounds are after me. I go outside and there is everyone with their mobiles all looking the other way as if I am contaminated. Their poor boss was right about me I am a bloody mad woman. The things my ex had to put up with and I think they are wrong. It is making me madder than ever and I fear I will do something so bad that I would be smelly for the rest of my life. Then I pull myself together and walk away. It is not worth figuring out what to do because the fight is over. I am finished maybe everyone is right about me after all?
There is no sense in all this as if the senselessness of it has me impaled I am after all a maddening woman. I am no madder than all the rest of those women in the adverts wanting their husbands to cook the dinner am I? I imagine if Tom did the dinner? He would never do it I will try to make him do the dinner than realise he will not because no one knows about him and me because I don’t know where I stand with him. He is a despicable nerd you know. Men are good only for two things and they are unprintable.
When life gets you down and where there is nowhere to go where do all the lames go to? I am forced to listen to this drone of my head forever one guy and then the next as if the crippled me is the essence they are after and they fight over me until they get what they want then they forget and go to the next one and the next as if I am china I will break. What happens when lovers don’t meet what happens when someone s your guts they will cripple themselves and their empires for you? I’m imagining all this so lazy mother says looking into the TV as if that is the answer to life.
I fear to go out in case the ex comes I fear to tread on someone in case they break I fear too much too many things as if my world is upside in. I am channelling to go outside when the phone rings it is odd someone from hell is on the phone calling us Mum and I as if we are the target of malicious rumours as if the rampant gossips are drunk on the elixir of life and they will never die and rest their bones. On graves and see that there is mortality; they will never die and go some place where deeds are weighed. When someone is found wanting. I fear to go out for fear has me in its talons and they all whisper at each other as if the joke is not on them. I fear to gossip in case someone is hurt. I fear myself most of all of what I am capable of the hurt I inflict if I set my mind to it.
There is a backlog of work and I fear to go near it in case it is overwhelming. I fear to go near anything approachable detachable in case it follows me. I fear so much it is hurting me it is me I am irreproachable someone is trying to poach me. There is a poacher about he is following me disgusting me with his glances as if I am whore and he a buyer. I fear to be handled in that manner. It is obscene what I’m I?
I detach myself from myself and look in on what is out. There must be some tits about? Is my bottom on show? Where am I? What is me out there attracting these hellish glances as if the night club owner has the vice girl. I fear to go outside looking in because the out is so ugly. I am reproached by demons they are chasing me is it imagination this? What are these? What hands have laid itself on me as if marked for sale? I go outside there is no one about there is nothing there only this feeling that someone has marked me as if I were on sale. I say to self what sale where is the sale did I put myself up for auction and forgot? There is the quick buyer I fear to say something in case the grip gets tighter I fear to work in case I am molested.
I place the novels books all unread as if they are contaminated by that thing in myself that says you are on sale. Dirty water runs through me as if the shower won’t wash it. The drain is there I am hopelessly in the drain there is no way outside there is only I looking in. What matters I? There is only this bargain hunting person and he is on the phone laughing hellish as if the needles and pins are all pricks on my hands blocking me writing this. I am in the knowledge of something he is there having a laugh. He has to destroy me before I destroy his business.
I did not mean to destroy Mac Donald’s, there is a loophole in that under age children should not be destroyed they should not be allowed in Mac Donald’s because getting fat is not healthy for their hearts. He is angry because of that then? I have done something to his business? There is millions at stakes but there is life at risk. All those hungry lives at risk because someone’s business is going to stop. Look why not make it healthy? It is like smoking isn’t it? The tobacco industry has the same problem haven’t they? Look did they try to kill the researchers like he has tried with me? I DO not mean to harm anyone but he has his call girl industry they do a good business don’t they? Don’t they?
I am prowling into my head to see if I can scream yet. Look I didn’t mean to harm your business it just happened that your business is corrupt and you are in the way. Children should not be fed junk food. That is the end out of the question it is big business it is so strange with me sat in a corner avoiding going out because someone is about to lose his money. But he has chains he has hotels he has many things he does. But he is a bad loser. Look bad losers out there so many years of this and now I am fed up. I am fed up being a loser in an industry of losers. A writer is a loser aren’t we?
“I will kill whoever stands in my way.”
“Because it is the norm.”
“Pour acid over your face is too good I will destroy you.”
“It is normal thing to do!”
“I will not be intimidated I will not be talked to in such a manner.”
“Get out of my life!”
“Then stop following me.”
“There is nothing to do now!”
“There is money to be made. You slut I have a family too.”
“You have billions.”
“I have nothing without that business besides it is bad for my image to be beaten by a Turkish woman without anything but balls.”
“I will not be spoken to by you. Go away you are killing my time. I want to forget you go elsewhere there are so many things I want to do but you are in my way I am unable because of you everything I have you want.”
“It is nothing to do with me what you have or want what I want to do is destroy you and what you have found.”
“But that is what I have had to do for years that is what I have found out that I can prove beyond all possible doubt. That is why I got fat that is why I nearly died for. Why should I stand aside and leave it all to waste?”
“I am selling the Mac Donald’s then you can say everything.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I did not force anyone to eat at Mac Donald’s.”
“But you called it happy meals and they are not they are deadly. Children are being given a taste that will make them addicted to that type of food.”
“Children, kids what can I say I have kids myself so I know I only use the choicest ingredients and the best of luck to those who don’t.”
“You lie. Even the story behind the story is a lie. You are a liar. You kids you us, you life this is your way of getting revenge.”
“I will not be spoken to like that.”
“Then stop it.”
“Is that you saying when you are here there and everywhere as if following me as if I am your star. What magnet is this that propels you to my places of business?”
“I don’t know. I seem to have the bad luck to be where you happen to be.”
“Then stop it.”
“I will try.”
“I will blind your dog if you don’t try.”
“Susie is blind already.”
God is cod and there is nothing to it but to fight all this. These are my words these are the feelings this is my lot. This is the lot of job these are the beastly thoughts of a beastly man with the attitude which speaks volumes. I am the book that no one will read because of him. I am to be tormented by too much labour for something I did not do but happened to come upon. Why me? For heaven’s sake why me? Why this endless waste of time? Why this growing fear why these thoughts of someone following someone there waiting to pounce something evil is happening to me I AM changing into a nobody I have nothing to fear but losing everything. When there is nothing there will be nothing to lose then I can say what I have to what I must. There is something to do before than there is something to do afterwards there is nothing for it but to do it yet I fear.
There is something evil growing something about to erupt like something vicious at my heels waiting to be known. Some form of recognition is due that there is something waiting for the selfishness to come to the fore as if my self will try to stop my brain from forming conclusions and this ladylike fear like the histrionics or the hysterics of a society lady in her corsets. I feel like vomiting my spleen I fear to speak loudly in case someone answers from my thoughts what have I done? When there is nothing to do but speak when there is nothing to think about but to react with such speed and sight. I fear to lose it my sight you know more than my looks I fear to lose my sight.
I see nothing but this fear I am a ball of fear. I look outside it is growing dark and soon the malicious world would be at its element and the weather is dark and cold as if winter is here steeped in darkness as if the darkness is black with the lights flickering giving moments of illumination as if the stars have long gone and only the understudies will be there. There will be a skirmish and there will be a fight when nothing will be taken but my sight.
This numbing fear as if the numbness has not worn off as if my body has rebelled enough to Tom enough to all that. But the momentary weakness has passed and I am going to get up to be knocked into some shape then I will be walking with the dog my blind dog my little Susie who is nearly blind.
When there is no more time left to figure it out when there is nothing left but this and that to be discussed with the undertaker and the understudy has become the dropped bomb. I am giving an audition with the maker is he up to it? There must be a maker or is the fear I feel too obvious? I am oblivious to facts. First man then women and now this fear that I am going to lose something precious. I spit on him.
I make a detour go round and round in circles I am fighting nonsense things don’t happen like that there must be a logical explanation for all this? There must be a reason why this growing fear why these thoughts I’m not mad I’m I? There is something going on reasoning me out of this fear reason deserted me but there is something dodging my footsteps as if life is becoming extinct there must be logic to all this? Why is life being taken from me? I’m I being driven to suicide? Or into madness or into being a recluse? I’m I being not up to standard that I am being trimmed and edited and made into something else? Like a silk purse or stockings that have been laddered? Where do I stand? What will happen to me tonight or tomorrow night or the penultimate night? This is fright it is frightening being frightened witless I don’t like it.
The thugs are not going to give me the willies.
I am not afraid I will not fear the lord is my shepherd and I shall not want. They spoke I speak there is almost nothing more to say. It is this animal panic it has subsided the subsidence has been mended I can continue it is driving me into some sort of chaos I can’t think anymore the words come but there is no more thoughts except fear.