‘We will.’
She leaves an hour later, offering to come and pick me up the following Friday and take me out for the evening. She knows I don’t trust myself to drive and I hate that I now have to rely on people to take me out and about. The regret I feel for the life I used to have is like a physical pain. But it isn’t dementia that has robbed me of my independence, I realise, though that day may one day come. It’s the guilt and fear that have riddled my every waking moment since I drove past Jane’s car two months ago. It’s guilt and fear that have diminished me. If Jane hadn’t happened, if I hadn’t met her, if she hadn’t been murdered, I would have been able to cope with the news that I have early-onset dementia. I would have faced it head-on and would, at this very moment, be looking at my options instead of spending my days asleep on the sofa.
The realisation of what I’ve become, and why I’ve
become as I am, is a massive wake-up call. It snaps me out of my lethargy and makes me determined to take
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some positive action. I think about what I can do to turn my life around, or at least start getting it back on track, and decide to go back to Heston. If anyone can help me in my quest for peace of mind, it has to be Alex, Jane’s husband. I don’t expect him to take away the guilt that I feel because it will always be with me.
But he had seemed a kind and compassionate man and
if he sees that I’m truly sorry for not stopping to help Jane that night, he might find it in his heart to forgive me. And then maybe, just maybe, I might be able to start forgiving myself. I might even be able to do something about the fear, nurtured oh-so-carefully by my silent caller. I’m not so na?ve as to think that all my problems are going to be solved with one trip to Heston. But at least it’s a start.
MONDAY SEPTEMBER 21st
I add the pills that Matthew brought me this morning to the little pile already in my drawer, because if I’m to drive to Heston today I need a clear head. I spend a long time in the shower, letting the water wash over me and when I eventually get out I feel mentally stronger than I have for a long time. Almost reborn. Maybe that’s why, when the phone starts ringing around ten o’clock, I decide to answer it. For a start, I want to check that the calls weren’t just a figment of my imagination and, secondly, I can’t really believe that he would continue to call when I haven’t answered the phone in God knows how long.
The sharp drawing in of breath as I take the call tells me I’ve taken him by surprise, and delighted that I’ve wrong-footed him I’m able to cope with the silence coming down the line better than before. My breathing, normally shaky with fear, remains even.
Title: The Breakdown ARC, Format: 126x198, v1, Output date:08/11/16
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‘I’ve missed you.’ The whispered words slide silkily down the line, hitting me like an invisible force. Fear resurfaces, raising bumps on my skin, choking me with its venom. I throw the phone down. It doesn’t mean he’s nearby, I tell myself, trying to regain some of the calm I’d felt earlier. J ust because he spoke to you it doesn’t mean he’s watching you. I take a few breaths, reminding myself that the fact he wasn’t expecting me to answer the phone proves that he doesn’t know my every move. But it’s hard not to feel afraid all over again. What if he decides to pay me a visit, now that he knows I’m back in the land of the living?
I go into the kitchen, my eyes instinctively checking first the window, then the back door. I try the handle; it remains reassuringly unmoveable. No one can get in unless I let them.
I go to make coffee, but remembering the struggles I had with the machine yesterday, I pour myself a glass of milk instead, wondering why my caller chose to speak to me this time when he never has before. Maybe he wanted to destabilise me because, for the first time, he hadn’t been able to sense my fear. I feel a surge of triumph at having changed something fundamental between us. I haven’t exactly brought him out into the open but I’ve made him divulge a little of himself, even if it was only a whisper.
I don’t want to get to Heston too early so I do a little tidying to take my mind off the fact that I’m alone in the house. But my mind won’t settle. I make myself a The Breakdown
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cup of mint tea, hoping it will calm me, and sit in the