8 Martha

 

Martha

doesn’t often leave the flat on her own

unless she’s had the right amount of alcohol  

the right amount varies

could be a slug of brandy in her coffee

half a bottle of wine

three large gin and tonics  

as exact sciences go it’s a shambles  

this thing it’s developed over the last few years  

always liked the feeling of being just drunk enough to not have to see things as they probably are without always needing to get absolutely hammered  

it all changed when she got the flu,couldn’t leave the flat for a week

fully bed-bound, even tempted to piss herself a couple of times

rather than attempt to make it to the toilet even though it was next door  

started feeling better, made excuses to stay in  

cosseted in her duvet, no one could hurt her  

pretended she was still sick, texted friends to pick up groceries, get Sasha from school  

justified it to herself that it was best to fully recover before getting back to reality  

also knew she was physically fine, hated that she was lying because of some fear she couldn’t explain  

leaving what had become something like safety felt terrifying  

couldn’t get away with it forever, or maybe she could

got to inventing a mystery disease that would keep her here forever  

googled all kinds of nonsense around that time, one day she realised

she was being entirely unhinged  

 

the first time leaving the flat after all that it took her four hours 

didn’t need to be anywhere at a certain time, just had to go to Aldi on the bus  

bus part didn’t bother her so much,still felt secure, enclosed  

pictured the aisles of Aldi as vast battlegrounds, warriors snatching goods as they rode by on shiny horses  

checkouts were turrets that sucked away your money, spat you back onto the street  

started with a bath

convincing herself it would relax her

a delaying tactic  

spent three hours in the there, flicking the plug chain with a toe, letting the pressure pull it back when the water got low enough, kicked the tap to let out more hot water, never figured out how to turn the tap off with her feet, had to lean forward for that bit

thought it would go on forever  

eventually

emerged

skin felt like rags

knew that only a drink would get her out the door  

wanted to try and do it sober that day  

still wants to every day  

not that it really matters either way, wants to show herself that it’s not an actual thing

just a silly habit  

only had four cans of ready-mixed gin and tonic and a slurp of wine in stock  

drank these as quickly as she could to max out the rush, stood with her hand on the front door handle

poised

waiting

for the right moment  

felt herself loosen her shoulders

they dropped a couple of inches  

opened the door

floated up the steps  

 

there’s a problem today 

has someone’s house to clean

no booze to propel her a few roads away  

doesn’t know how she fucked this up  

swore she had a half bottle of brandy in the cupboard  

knows that if she checks the recycling bin it will be right there

empty

accusing  

you drunk me

feels ridiculous

a lost kid waahing for mummy and daddy  

Sash, at school  

Jimmy, at work

Gemma, at work

stares at her phone, scrolling up and down the contacts list, her brain doing a quick calculation on each name as to whether they’re likely to be around to be her pathetic chaperone  

scrolls past Marco’s number several times  

he lives nearby, bound to be home 

they fucked a couple of years ago, he went a bit funny when she called it off  

not that there was anything to call off in her mind, think he had another view  

if she texts him to walk her to work, she’s totally using him,he’s bound to regain his hard-on  can’t really deal with that right now  

this job pays good cash though

and she needs good cash  

fuck it  

sends a text to him

11:57: hi, can you pop round, I need a favour

 

12:01

opens the door, Marco leaning against the frame, probably thinks he looks like James Dean pretty sure Dean never wore a sheepskin coat or had tattoos up his neck  

doesn’t say anything as she steps out and closes the door behind her  

    hang on, where are we going?

looks confused as well he might be, was a bit vague in her message  

he thought the favour involved her warm bed, his hard cock  

serves him right for jumping to conclusions  

knows what she did though

wrong wrong wrong

 

stop thinking  

go  

    I’ve got to get to work come on

grabs his arm as she speaks  

    why the fuck have I got to go too then?

fair question  

    look,just walk me to work-it’s just a few streets away ok?

he shrugs, follows her  

she walks quickly, he falls in beside her  

don’t do small talk now for the love of god  

turn a couple of corners cross a few roads, they’re there  

feels stupid for not doing this on her own, dragging him into it  

    right I’m here

delves into her bag, looking for the keys  

what, so that’s it?

well yeah, this is where I’m working today 

right,ok 

feels guilt a dirty fat sagging guilt  

why don’t you meet me back here in 3 hours and we’ll go for a beer?

loosens at this idea

a smile

a nod  

she feels better too  

she clumps up the steps

to the huge front door

of the currently dirty house  

closes the door

he waves like he’s seeing her off at the station  

 

daft cunt  

 

inside

used to be in utter awe of these houses, her flat would fit in their wardrobe  

first time she was alone in one of these places, walked around, drew a map in her head of each room  

one place was so vast, ended up drawing an actual map on an old takeaway menu,terrified that she’d get lost when she returned  

in her little world she’s so used to all the rooms being connected to each other

all being on one level  

no secret games room pretending to be a cupboard 

no dark hallway that leads to the east wing  

at first, wanted everything spotless obsessively clean  

something thrilling about wiping away a week’s filth

then you come back the next week

find a toenail clipping in the rug

realise that maybe your efforts aren’t so universally appreciated  

still likes the cleaning, doesn’t invest so much of herself in it  

 

finished and it’s only a quarter to three  

goes to the upstairs front window, can see Marco sat on the wall by the park, wonders if he has been sat there all this time  

wants to smoke so she goes into the back garden  

at her place, there’s a garden

kinda

a backyard  

sits there to smoke in the mornings when the sun hits

well a tiny corner does  

this garden is different to hers

receives plenty of actual gardening attention

actual living things in it  

it’s huge, they probably have a gardener, more staff to keep them content 

there’s a shed down the far end, sometimes sits in it

big enough that you could actually live in it  

full of garden machinery, a workbench

no idea what half the tools are for, they give the space meaning  

all smells of damp wood and secrets  

a bottle of whisky in a cupboard that’s someone’s secret stash  

helps herself to a swig some days 

not today though  

feels calm ensconced here in this big house  

glad Marco is outside so she can at least get to the pub without any further dramas  

 

walks down the hill with Marco  

doesn’t ask him if he’s been hanging around all this time or if he went home  

still got his sheepskin pulled up tight around his chin even though it’s a warm day  

he’s hiding in there  

hasn’t walked next to him for ages

forgotten how tall he is

or maybe how short she is  

pub at the bottom of her road on the corner

doesn’t go there that much

too clean  

gets nervous when a pub’s toilets are cleaner than her one at home  

nervous or maybe ashamed  

either way, doesn’t like it  

flops down on an outside table, asks Marco to get her a cider  

tries to hand him a tenner, he’s already turned away, skulking his way to the bar  

texts Sash

tells her where she is, asks if she wants to meet here after school  

Sash

loves coming to the pub

that grown-up feeling  

doesn’t think Sash will be a drinker though, she’d already started at her age  

Sash tried a sip of her red wine once

spat it up a wall

needing repainting  

made a beautiful splatter though 

tried to recreate it with paint on paper

not the same

Sash wanted to put the paint in her mouth

spit it onto the paper

lunatic artists in both of them

wanted to do it so bad

till Martha remembered that she was the mother

it happens now and then

 

slurps a couple of inches off the top of her second cider

Marco chatters on about the amazing pale ale he’s drinking

something about hops

something about something else, dunno  

not really listening 

Sash appears

hugs her whilst standing up  

dumps herself down next to Marco, they’ve met before 

Sash seems especially fascinated with him today  

picks up his pale ale can, studies the cartoon artwork, looks at him slightly confused

maybe disgusted  

he tries to be casual about her presence, he’s definitely not comfortable with her flitting around them like a fairy schoolgirl  

does that awkward smile when someone else’s kid is being a dick

you have to grin and bear it  

fuck knows she’s done it enough times  

sees Sash looking at his hands  

she takes one and traces the tattoos on his knuckles with her finger

as if she’s inking them for the first time  

turns his hand over, slides his sheepskin up his forearm a little

checking the detail of each design  

takes his hand in her two hands

looks up at him

then back at his hand

then back up at him  

you’ve made some very poor life choices haven’t you?

speaks slowly

calmly

a school teacher

trying to get the best out of an underachieving pupil  

 

my daughter terrifies me

I love her so much