Old Walls - Part 6

 

There was something about waiting for the perfect moment which caused all Simon’s internal systems to speed up, his heart rate accelerated, his stomach gurgled as his tea washed down  through the small intestine. He rushed to the bottom of the stairs then paused for a few seconds, his fingers tapping the handrail. Do I need the toilet or don’t I? He thought. The rule he kept, of only depositing liquids in the downstairs toilet was non-negotiable but he didn’t want to waste time or worse still, lose his nerve.

 

It occurred to him that Roz had been gone a while now. He cursed himself for not noting what time she had left. The sky had darkened significantly, clouds had moved in, rain clouds perhaps. 

 

There was nothing else for it. He took a final look at himself in the lounge mirror and strode out of the front door, glancing left and right, trying as hard as he could to look normal, however his walk was remarkable in its peculiarness. A casual observer could be forgiven for thinking he’d soiled himself.

 

As he reached the other side of the road, he paused and jabbed at his phone to turn it on silent. Old Walls appeared to be occupied by Tor, her little red car was parked up near the house as usual. Simon assumed the daughter might well be there too, probably dressed in leggings, lounging on her phone. Some of the curtains were closed but as far as he remembered they hadn’t been opened at all since the family moved in.

 

He peered over at the field to make sure Roz wasn’t nearby with the dog and then walked onto their driveway, some pebbles underfoot rutted against each other so he hopped onto a strip where some grass had grown, softening his step. A large Amazon box had been left in the driveway. He skirted around it but for some reason it made him feel more self-conscious.

 

It was clear that the shed was slightly ajar, the lock was yet to be fixed. He opened the door wide enough to pass through, it creaked and he slowly pulled it closed behind him. It was pretty tidy inside except for some brown boxes stacked in a tower and a large black trunk with a padlock on it. In the corner there was an extra little bit of wall jutting out, forming an enclosure and he could see a spade leaning up and something else with a long wooden handle.

 

He was just walking over to check for his loppers, using the light on his phone to guide him when he heard the boom boom boom of music and two bright headlights turned into the driveway at speed, coming to an abrupt halt, grinding the pebbles beneath. 

 

Shit, he thought and quickly turned off his phone light, crouched down on the floor and began grimacing, contorting his facial muscles as if his legs were being sawn off. 

 

Jace jumped down from his pick-up truck, he had a sort of happy energy about his person as he slammed the door shut. He went over to the wheelie bin on the drive and put some food rubbish into it, crisp packets, sandwich packets, plastic bottles into the recycling. It occurred to Simon that he might remove tools from his vehicle and place them in the shed and he tucked his head tighter into his knees and pulled a crying face but without tears.

 

It was lucky that Jace kept his tools inside his truck because it had far more security than his shed. However on the way back from the bin he noticed the Amazon box and picked it up. He thought for a moment and then carried it towards the shed, kicking open the door and pressing a switch which activated a dim little lightbulb.

 

Using his doorkey he slit open the tape on the box and shone his phone torch inside then removed a couple of bottles of some liquid which he placed on a nearby shelf. He then leaned into the box and took out some folded fabric wrapped in cellophane. He unsealed the top, took it out and held it up, then gave it a shake and quickly refolded it, throwing it back into the box but leaving the cellophane crumpled on the floor. 

 

Simon had been holding his breath, clasping his hands together and praying to become invisible. It sort of worked, except his nose made a slight whistling sound when he inhaled and Jace visibly tensed and froze, looking around to locate the source of the sound but he was disturbed by Tor calling his name.

 

Jace, Jace? What are you doing? Dinner’s on the table..’

 

He paused for a second, then shouted, ‘Just coming,’

 

He flipped the light off and strode off towards the house. Simon let out a long deep breath but he was desperate now to relieve himself so desperate in fact that he could barely move without bursting. 

 

Scuttling across the floor, finding his way with his arms out in the darkness, he pushed open the shed door slightly and checked that the coast was clear. It was spitting rain now and briefly he considered peeing next to the shed but it was too risky. He stretched one leg out, pushed closed the door and sprinted out of the drive and across the road with his hand over his crotch. 

 

There was an area in his own front garden where he could relieve himself without being seen and he stood there, under a cherry tree, wetting the ground. ‘Aaaaaah!’ he said, then began zipping his flies back up.

 

‘Simon?’ Roz shone her little torch at him.

 

‘Roz..Rosalind. Sorry, I got caught short.’

 

‘What on earth are you wearing?’

 

‘Oh this. I borrowed it…from one of the guys at the working party. He said I could keep it.’

 

‘Really? It looks brand new, it’s got side creases. How did you get on with Charlotte?’

 

‘Charlotte?’

 

‘Yes, you said you were sorting out some dates…for babysitting?’

 

‘Oh, yes that. I’m still working on it. I just came out to pull some thistles out of the lawn. They were too thick for the mower.’

 

Roz stood still, pointing the torch and studying her husband’s appearance for a few seconds. He felt her perceptive powers go right through him, striking at the core of the truth and making him physically judder.

 

‘Have you been across the road?’ she said, walking up close to him.

 

‘No…I, well I wanted to check for my loppers, that’s all, I just thought it would be easier, you know, to pop over, rather than disturbing them at tea time.’

 

Roz shook her head. ‘You idiot, Simon. I told you to go and ask Jace, he’s a nice guy. Sneaking around like some weirdo. They’ve probably called the police on you…and did you find them?’

 

‘No, no, he came back and I had to hide. It’s okay though, he didn’t see me. I think I’ll leave it. I can just get another pair, they’ve probably gone rusty anyway.’

 

‘You’re so predictable,’ Roz said as she walked off towards the house, shaking her head and feeling thoroughly drained by her husband’s behaviour. Her sub-conscious had told what he was planning to do but she’d hoped that the story he’d spun about checking dates to help their daughter might actually be true.

 

They ate dinner mostly in silence. Timmy didn’t like tension in the house. He sat in his bed staring at each of his owners in turn and occasionally letting out little squeaks to show his displeasure.

 

The following day, Simon went off to complete his volunteering shift at the food bank and Roz stayed at home because she had a client coming for psychotherapy. 

 

He only attended the food bank every six weeks since there were plenty of willing volunteers and the rota was drawn up in advance for the whole year. It meant that it didn’t really take up much of his time but on the other hand, people always needed reminding how things were run and he didn’t get to know many of the other volunteers.

 

Marion was in charge, a tiny woman with lots of fluffy brown hair and vampire teeth, long canines which occasionally peeped down beneath her naturally dark upper lip. She spoke with a slight lisp and was very intense, occasionally bordering predatory. People said that was why she’d never got married or had a long term relationship, they said that despite being pretty, Marion was too much.

 

She’d had a very successful career in healthcare, nursing followed by management and the management part of her character didn’t have an off switch but it had all enabled her to retire early.

 

‘You check the dates on these, Simon, and then put them in the crates, one cereal in each crate, one biscuits, one coffee etc etc..but only if they’re in date.’ 

 

‘Okay,’ Simon nodded and watched as she walked away but she suddenly looked back at him.

 

‘Oh, are you alright? You look a bit stressed today. Is your wife taking good care of you?’

 

‘Yes, yes, I’m fine.’ Simon nodded and turned his back on her but she grabbed his arm.

 

‘You can speak to me, you know. I’m always here. Where is your wife? Does she come and volunteer with us?’

 

‘No. She’s busy working, she’s got a client today?’

 

Marion stopped and looked very closely at him. ‘A client, what is it that she does?’

 

‘She’s a Psychotherapist.’ Simon said sharply, weaponising the word slightly. He was proud of Roz and her later-life career.

 

‘Mmm,’ Marion twirled her hair, ‘I’ve never really brought into those soft sciences myself. I mean, if it works, fine, don’t knock it but I find just talking to people, getting things off your chest is as good as anything. If you can find somebody patient enough to listen, that is. I’ve a doctor friend who always says that psychology is the business of charlatans.’

 

‘Oh, do you?’ Simon made a play of checking the date on a box of Cocopops but he wasn’t really registering the information because he wanted to defend his wife but couldn’t find the words. ‘I think thorough training probably makes for a better listener and that’s what Roz has undertaken, lots of training. She’s got a full diary of clients.’

 

‘Has she? That’s good but I’m free if you want to talk,’ she raised her voice to a shout and continued, ‘and that goes for anyone else here too.’

 

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