9 Martha

 

Martha

can feel it coming  

a gentle tapping on the other side of a door  

the early warning system hasn’t always been in place  

for years it felt like it silently crept up on her  

now

she can feel the tingles, tightening in her lower back, how she misses a breath

now and then  

she can push it away keep it at the edges of her life  

she knows it’ll get her eventually

fending it off even for a few hours is useful

practical

it’s like knowing the date you’re going to die, being able to get your affairs in order  

dying every few weeks though

it’s a bit tiring

mum thought it was a menstrual thing, sometimes it is triggered by her cycle

giving it an added bit of bonus energy to really mess with her  

usually it comes along all by itself

rumbling and grumbling until it’s time to succumb  

 

forgot to put the washing on

realises she’s been sitting there for an hour staring at the lampshade above her

wondering if she can be bothered to get up there and clean it  

she can’t  

it’s getting louder  

ears ringing like a fire alarm in her head  

hands feel funny

twisted inside 

looks in the bathroom mirror to check that it’s still her  

pale  

her eyes can open about halfway  

looks like she smells even though she doesn’t  

every single time she kids herself

that this is the last time

that this must get better at some point

every single time it laughs in her face

pushes her back over the edge  

 

not long to get things together  

 

need to put the team on alert  

texts Jimmy

texts Gemma

check they’re around for the next few days  

trying not to be an imposition 

they seem to do this as part of the contract of knowing her

reassuring

still she wishes it wasn’t so reliant

texts Sash’s dad too

he’s very aware of what’s about to pass  

knows she can’t help it

that it’s real

unavoidable

disgusting

painful

all-consuming  

they all message back 

they’re ready  

 

it’s not always the case  

people have holidays

well, other people do  

Jimmy works away sometimes

Gemma loses her phone an extraordinary number of times  

had to get mum down a couple of times  

mum loves being useful to her now

loves looking after Sash

when she cannot  

this time everyone is here

her breathing mellows a few degrees for the moment  

starts to pack Sash’s going-away rucksack

clothes

a few random things from her room

starts off folding everything slowly

carefully  

after a couple of items

pushes the rest through the black hole at the top

hopes they fall kindly  

 

Sash will know when to come back

if it’s a bad one

she’ll sit on the edge of the sofa

stroke her hair  

she’ll cry

Sash will hold her like she’s the child  

then they’ll put some music

dance furiously around the flat  

but that’s all in the future 

got to go into the tunnel to come out the other side  

 

makes coffee

adds a splash of brandy to it  

splash means about two inches  

when it’s approaching she has to be really careful about how much she drinks  

too much

it will overwhelm her  

too little

she doesn’t know what will happen if she has too little

has no intention of ever finding out  

the alcohol fumes from the coffee tickle her nose  

goes to the kitchen

watches the clothes go round inside the washing machine  

they hover at their highest point in the revolution for longer than should be possible  

the sound is nice and she takes a chair from the living room

sits in the kitchen with her coffee  

 

by lunchtime nothing much has changed  

head still feels tight

a hundred elastic bands around her forehead, all of them squeaking

straining

waiting to ping  

Jimmy comes round to pick up Sash’s rucksack

he’ll take it to her dad’s place  

arms are full of cans, goes into the kitchen, stocks the fridge with a dozen fruity ciders  

this is her medicine for the next few days  

hands Jimmy the rucksack, he nods silently and hands her a perfectly rolled cigarette  

tries to give him a tenner for the booze

he pretends not to notice her outstretched hand  

scrunches up the tenner into a pocket in her jeans

hoping it will turn up one day when she really needs it  

 

Jimmy leaves

she watches him climb the steps up to the road  

he’s so big that her sad little front garden looks like it’s full of bonsai bushes  

he’ll be back  

he’s the only one who can be here when it starts  

it’s not like having a person here

he leaves her the fuck alone while making sure she has what she needs 

 

texts Gemma, asks her to cover the next cleaning job she has lined up  

drinks more coffee

waits for the walls to come closer 

 

starts to cry so suddenly

so hard that it feels like the sides of her head will fall off and bounce across the kitchen  

 

holds onto the fridge, lets herself slide down it onto the floor

freezing against her arse, shifts onto her side trying to minimise contact with the tiles  

she can see under the fridge, there’s a single hula hoop that must have escaped 

rolled into the darkness below  

looks at it expecting it to roll towards her  

can see all the filth that’s usually so hidden  

feels sick  

head is sweating

so much that a trail of moisture has formed in the grout of the tiles just below her face

fading now

such peace before the fall

 

I hope it’s summer when I wake up