The Burn

A decision

When she told him she was going he stared at her, stupefied. Instead of shouting and bawling he asked her to repeat what she had just said. She did so, stepping back a yard, though by the set of her face and demeanour generally she wasnt at all scared for any physical reason. He looked at the carpet and frowned. Then while fumbling a cigarette to his mouth he offered her one but she declined, gesturing at the ashtray on the coffee table where she had one already, it lay smouldering; he stared at it, an Embassy Regal.

She was lifting a suitcase in the direction of the door, a grey suitcase. He was puzzled. Where the hell had she got it from? He had never seen it before. Dark grey it was, with green trimmings all round the edge.

And she was taking care not to meet his gaze. What did that mean?

But what was she playing at altogether?

She was at the door, hesitating but there, standing the suitcase upright between her feet.

Suddenly he knew what it was. They had turned her head. It’s them, he said, they’ve turned your head. But he was so aware of how doleful he sounded. But he battered on talking to her. I knew it would happen. You aye said it wouldnt but I knew it would. I knew it, right from the start. I did. I knew it. I mean did I or didnt I?

She nodded slowly. You were right, I was wrong.

Aye but I dont want to be right, I dont want to be right. .

It’s no your fault, dont think that — it’s me. I’m just. . I’m just. .

Naw, he said, dont go blaming yourself because it’s no you it’s them, it’s down to them.

She didnt answer. She was looking at him in a way hard to describe. It was probably a mixture of things, feeling sorry for him was one, feeling disloyal would be another. What else? Oh she was just fucking probably feeling sick, sick in the belly. He nodded and inhaled on his cigarette. He didnt care if he died of bronchitis, or cancer. If he was going to be alone he was as well dead anyway because he couldnt live on his own — he would be dead in a week, he would go mad, he had to have people, he needed them, he just needed them. Her. He needed her. So how could he just stand there staring at her leave, he couldnt, it just wasnt fucking a possibility.

I’ve been growing away from you, she was telling him.

God! She was sounding like she was bloody pleading! He felt like bursting into floods of tears. She was pleading. He could see it in her eyes.

I have been for a while, she said.

Jesus Christ she was going to break his heart at this rate because she was telling what was the whole truth and nothing but the truth and he sucked on his fag once again, getting the smoke and holding it and sucking on it again and shutting his eyes, clenching the lids shut there for Christ sake. She was talking to him:

I wanted to wait and tell you. . I could’ve went this afternoon but I decided I wanted to wait and see you face to face.

I appreciate it, he blurted out and meant it, he meant every word.

It wouldnt have been fair otherwise, she said.

Naw.

Just going I mean. .

How come she had tacked that bit on the end, just going I mean, what had she said it for? Could she no just have shut up? Why did she need to bloody add on these wee bits. Why did she no just shut up! Her fucking mouth! Why did she no just shut up!

Just going I mean, she said, it wouldnt have been fair to you, to us.

O God. To us! If he was to let her go on still she was going to make it worse and worse and worse and bloody fucking worse again. He shook his head and sighed. He stared at her: Do you expect me to take ye back if you decide you want to come back? Eh?

The suitcase there between her feet.

Eh? he said, his voice that bit louder.

She just stared at him and the implication was: Have we sunk to this? that you could accuse me of that?

Come on, he said, I’m just trying to be realistic. To be practical. You might want to. It happens. People split up, they walk out on their partners and then decide they want to come back — the grass turns out to be no so green as they thought. .

She was already shaking her head but he continued on, okay, a stubborn bastard: No but how do you know? he said, you cant know for sure. And I mean do you expect me to just take ye back if it does happen?

I dont think it will though.

Aye but how do ye know I mean I like the way you say that as if ye know for sure but how the hell can ye I mean ye bloody cant. He stared at her. Eh? Ye cant for sure.

God, she was getting impatient and he had to play for time Christ because otherwise she was right out the fucking door, she was just right out and away. Look, he said, it’s a simple question I’m asking.

What is?

It was lost. He stared at her. He couldnt think of it. His mind was blank. She was really truly, really truly, she was leaving. You’re leaving, he said. And he rushed on: All I’m saying is do you expect me to take ye back if you come back? If ye come back.

What do you mean? she said, and there was terrible sadness and worry all intermingled, he felt like sitting down, so tired right at that moment, the force of what she was doing, of what was happening right here and now between them for what now seemed to be forever, permanent separation, a permanent separation. .

The tears were there in her eyes.

But do you? he said loudly, getting angry with her for this and her fucking pity, pitying him. Dont fucking pity me, he said, just dont fucking pity me.

I’m not pitying ye. I’m not.

Aye ye are — just go if you’re bloody going; but dont you fucking pity me. And who are ye going with anyway? Is he waiting down the stair? Is he? Down the fucking stair?

There’s nobody.

Ya liar.

She shook her head.

Ye are, ya bloody liar ye.

Now she frowned at him. I didnt have to wait ye know I could just have went this afternoon when you were out at the E. T. I could’ve.

How come ye never then?

Because it wouldnt have been fair, to just leave.

Okay, he said, thanks. Thanks.

She reached for the remains of her cigarette from the ashtray on the coffee table. There was only a puff left in it. She stubbed it out; her other hand settled onto the handle of the suitcase. He stared at it, grey and green coloured trimmings, he had never seen it before. It looked brand new.

So you’ve decided then, he said, that’s it final? When did ye decide?

Does it matter?

Aye.

For one isolated solitary moment in time she stared straight at him, then she sighed and it was a sigh of pure relief. It was a sigh of pure relief. There she was. That was her. Whatever it was he had said was enough for her; to know she had done right, that the decision she had made was the right one. He frowned because he was puzzled. What had he said? What was it? It should have been there in front of him so clearly but he couldnt bring it to mind. What was it? What had he said, just there, a minute ago, that had set the seal on her leaving?

The door had closed. He studied it and he thought about it, her leaving. But the when didnt make one bit of difference, unfortunately, she had just gone, she was away; he thought of running to the window to maybe shout down at her but what was the point of that, it just wasnt him, it wasnt the sort of thing he did; he looked at the door, he studied it.