MAUREEN
I was sick on the carpet outside the bathroom. Well, I say 'carpet' - I was actually sick where the carpet should have been, but he didn't have one. Which was just as well, because it was much easier to clean up afterwards. I've seen lots of those programmes where they decorate your house for you, and I've never understood why they always make you throw your carpets away, even good ones which still have a nice thick pile. But now I'm wondering whether they first of all decide whether the people who live in the house are sicker-uppers or not. A lot of younger people have the bare floorboards, I've noticed, and of course they tend to be sick on the floor more than older people, what with all the beer they drink and so on. And the drugs they take, too, nowadays, I suppose. (Do drugs make you sick? I'd think so, wouldn't you?) And some of the young families in Islington don't seem to go in for the carpets much, either. But you see that might be because babies are always being sick all over the place as well. So maybe Martin is a sicker-upper. Or maybe he just has a lot of friends who are sicker-uppers. Like me. I was sick because I'm not used to drinking, and also because I hadn't had a thing to eat for more than a day. I was too nervous on New Year's Eve to eat anything, and there didn't seem to be an awful lot of point anyway. I didn't even have any of Matty's mush. What's food for? It's fuel, isn't it? It keeps you going. And I didn't really want to be kept going. Jumping off Toppers' House with a full stomach would have seemed wasteful1, like selling a car with a full tank of petrol. So I was dizzy even before we started drinking the whisky, because of the white wine at the party, and after I'd had a couple the room started spinning round and round.
We were quiet for a little while after Penny had gone. We didn't know whether we were supposed to be sad or not. Jess offered to chase after her and tell her that Martin hadn't been with anyone else, but Martin asked her how she was going to explain what we were doing there, and Jess said she thought that the truth wasn't so bad, and Martin said that he'd rather Penny thought badly of him than be told that he'd been thinking of killing2 himself.
'You're mad,' said Jess. 'She'd feel all sorry for you if she found out how we'd met. You'd probably get a sympathy shag.'
Martin laughed. 'I don't think that's how it works, Jess,' he said.
'Why not?'
'Because if she found out how we met, it would really upset her. She'd think she was responsible in some way. It's a terrible thing, finding out that your lover is so unhappy he wants to die. It's a time for self-reflection.'
'Yeah. And?'
'And I'd have to spend hours holding her hand. I don't feel like holding her hand.'
'You'd still end up with a sympathy shag. I didn't say it would be easy.'
Sometimes it was hard to remember that Jess was unhappy too. The rest of us, we were still shell-shocked. I didn't know how I'd ended up drinking whisky in the lounge of a well-known TV personality when I'd actually left the house to kill myself, and you could tell that JJ and Martin were confused about the evening too. But with Jess, it was like the whole how's-your-father on the roof was like a minor3 accident, the sort of thing where you rub your head and sit down and have a cup of sweet tea, and then you get on with the rest of your day. When she was talking about sympathy intercourse4 and whatever other nonsense came into her head, you couldn't see what could possibly have made her want to climb those stairs up to the roof - her eyes were twinkling, and she was full of energy, and you could tell that she was having fun. We weren't having fun. We weren't killing ourselves, but we weren't having fun either. We'd come too close to jumping. And yet Jess had come the closest of all of us to going over. JJ had only just come out of the stairwell. Martin had sat with his feet dangling5 over the edge but hadn't actually nerved himself to do it. I'd never even got as far as the other side of the fence. But if Martin hadn't sat on Jess's head, she'd have done it, I'm sure of that.
'Let's play a game,' said Jess.
'F— off,' said Martin.
It was impossible to go on being shocked by the bad language. I didn't want to get to the stage where I was swearing myself, so I was quite glad that the night was drawing to an end. But the getting used to it made me realize something. It made me realize that nothing had ever changed for me. In Martin's flat, I could look back on myself - the me from only a few hours before - and think, 'Ooh, I was different then. Fancy being upset by a little bit of bad language!' I'd got older even during the night. You get used to that, the feeling that you're suddenly different, when you're younger. You wake up in the morning and you can't believe that you had a crush on this person, or used to like that sort of music, even if it was only a few weeks ago. But when I had Matty, everything stopped, and nothing ever moved on. It's the one single thing that makes you die inside, and eventually wants to make you die on the outside too. People have children for all sorts of reasons, I know, but one of those reasons must be that children growing up make you feel that life has a sense of momentum6 - kids send you on a journey. Matty and I got stuck at the bus stop, though. He didn't learn to walk or talk, let alone read or write: he stayed the same every single day, and life stayed the same every single day, and I stayed the same too. I know it's not much, but hearing the word 'f—' hundreds of times in an evening, well, even that was something different for me, something new. When I first met Martin on the roof, I physically7 flinched8 from the words he used, and now they just bounced off me, as if I had a helmet on. Well, they would, wouldn't they? You'd be a proper eejit if you flinched three hundred times in an evening. It made me wonder what else would change if I lived like this for just a few more days. Already I'd slapped someone, and now there I was drinking whisky and Coca-Cola. You know when people on the TV say 'You should get out more'? Now I saw what they meant.
'Miserable9 bastard10,' said Jess.
'Well, yes,' said Martin. 'Exactly. Der, as you would say.'
'What have I said now?'
'You accused me of being a miserable bastard. I was merely pointing out that, at this particular stage of my life, and indeed on this particular night, "miserable" is a very appropriate adjective. I am a very miserable bastard indeed, as I thought you would have worked out by now.'
'What, still?'
Martin laughed. 'Yes. Still. Even after all the fun we've had tonight. What would you say has changed in the last few hours? Have I still been to prison? I believe I still have. Did I sleep with a fifteen-year-old? Regrettably, nothing much seems to have changed on that score. Is my career still in pieces, and am I still estranged11 from my children? Unhappily, yes and yes. Despite attending a party with your amusing friends in Shoreditch and being called a c—? What kind of malcontent12 must I be, eh?'
'I thought we'd cheered each other up.'
'Really? Is that really and truly what you thought?'
'Yeah.'
'I see. A trouble shared is a trouble halved13, and because there are four of us, it's actually been quartered? That sort of thing?'
'Well, you've all made me feel better.'
'Yes. Well,'
'What's that supposed to mean?'
'Nothing. I'm glad we've made you feel better. Your depression was clearly more… amenable14 than ours. Less intractable. You're very lucky. Unfortunately, JJ is still going to die, Maureen still has a profoundly disabled son and my life is still a complete and utter f—ing shambles15. To be honest with you, Jess, I don't see how a couple of drinks and a game of Monopoly are going to help. Fancy a game of Monopoly, JJ? Will that help the old CCR? Or not, really?'
I was shocked, but JJ didn't seem to mind. He just smiled, and said, 'I guess not.'
'I wasn't thinking of Monopoly,' said Jess. 'Monopoly takes too long.'
And then Martin shouted something at her, but I didn't hear what it was because I was starting to retch, so I put my handover my mouth and ran for the bathroom. But as I said, I didn't make it.
'Jesus f—ing Christ,' Martin said when he saw the mess I'd made. I couldn't get used to that sort of swearing, though, the sort that involves Him. I don't think that will ever seem right.
1 wasteful | |
adj.(造成)浪费的,挥霍的 | |
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2 killing | |
n.巨额利润;突然赚大钱,发大财 | |
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3 minor | |
adj.较小(少)的,较次要的;n.辅修学科;vi.辅修 | |
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4 intercourse | |
n.性交;交流,交往,交际 | |
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5 dangling | |
悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 ); 摆动不定; 用某事物诱惑…; 吊胃口 | |
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6 momentum | |
n.动力,冲力,势头;动量 | |
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7 physically | |
adj.物质上,体格上,身体上,按自然规律 | |
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8 flinched | |
v.(因危险和痛苦)退缩,畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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9 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
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10 bastard | |
n.坏蛋,混蛋;私生子 | |
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11 estranged | |
adj.疏远的,分离的 | |
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12 malcontent | |
n.不满者,不平者;adj.抱不平的,不满的 | |
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13 halved | |
v.把…分成两半( halve的过去式和过去分词 );把…减半;对分;平摊 | |
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14 amenable | |
adj.经得起检验的;顺从的;对负有义务的 | |
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15 shambles | |
n.混乱之处;废墟 | |
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