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.“She never came to see me.She was probably happy I was gone.She deserved a lot better.”“But somebody did?”“Yeah, some of our old friends did.One by one they made the journey north to try and talk some sense into me and bring me back.The first one was a guy named Lachlan I'd worked with in Sydney.We were close.He was probably the best friend I ever had.He said he'd convinced my boss not to fire me and that I was officially on leave for health reasons.Then he said that Violet wanted me to come back home.He told me he'd never seen her so sad in his life and all she'd done for days was cry.But she was like that before I left.Not as bad as he'd made it sound, but he was probably exaggerating.Lachlan spent a day in Armidale trying to convince me and, for a second, I really thought about going back.”“Why didn't you?”“I found some sense in a bottle of vodka.There's no reason for me to go back.” Roland sipped his drink.The icy water was sobering.He hated it.“Do you find all the answers to hard decisions in vodka?” Mal asked.“Sometimes I find them in scotch.”“Anybody else visit you?”“Yeah.Lachlan came back a couple of times.Once a week for about two months.The last time he came back he told me I'd been fired.I was glad.He never said anything about Violet after the first time, though.He gave up, eventually.“There were others, too, like I said.Frank, Dominic, Lewis - all came to visit me once for a few hours and then left.I didn't hear from them a second time.Violet's sister even came to visit me before the last time Lachlan visited.I expected her to be a lot angrier than she was.She said she was only there because she was passing through Armidale on her way north for a holiday.She had a coffee in my apartment, asked if I was going to go home and if there was anything she could do to convince me.Then she said she was sorry and she left.”“What was she sorry for?” Mal set his glass and a cigarette butt up on the bench.“Keep talking, I'm listening.” He began searching through cupboards.“I asked her the same thing.” Roland went on.“She said she was just sorry for me.Sorry in general.I was sorry too.So I found some more vodka and drank until I couldn't even remember what sorry meant.I went to work the next day still drunk but that was okay because the site I was working was closed.It was Sunday.I figured it must have been the weekend and didn't go back for the next two days.That was how I lost that job and, soon after, I'd lost the last of all my old friends, too.”“That's a busy week.”“I was glad when they stopped showing up.Once I knew Lachlan was never coming back, I was able to forget about my wife and Sydney once and for all.”“You managed to forget a whole major city? That's impressive.”“Well, here I am talking about this shit, again.” Roland puffed the last few embers out of his cigarette and held the smoke in his lungs as long as he could before coughing it out.Malcolm sat down again with a box of chocolate chip biscuits.“Hungry?”Roland shook his head.“I guess I didn't do so well at forgetting it, after all.Some things just can't be done.”“But you got your way, in the end.Isn't that what matters?” Mal asked.“Don't do that.” Roland said.“What?”“Don't fucking patronise me.I just told you about how I managed to ruin every friendship I had, destroy my marriage and drive my wife into depression.I've got no home or job or family.I know that I've fucked it all up and I have nothing.So don't sit there being sarcastic and try to tell me what's wrong with my life! I know what's wrong with my life.It's my life! Just because I try and ignore what a waste it is, doesn't mean I don't know.”Shouting made Roland feel sick again.Hearing it out loud always made him angrier.He thought he should be sad but he was just pissed off.If he was this angry with anybody else he would have beaten the shit out of them.But he couldn't do that to himself.Or could he? That's exactly what he'd been doing these last few years.He couldn't physically beat himself so he drank himself into sick stupors and poisoned his body as often as he could.That was his punishment.It's what he deserved.Roland reached for his glass, hoping for scotch, remembering it was water and finding it empty.He'd already finished it.Shit.“You want some more water?” Mal asked.“No.”“Well, I do.”“I guess I'll have some water, too.” Roland shrugged and tried to roll his glass across the floor.It veered off into a corner, where Mal picked it up.“I mean you're up there already.”“Sure.” Mal filled both glasses and sat down beside Roland.“Do you know what I find most interesting?”“What?”“You still call her your wife.She's not your ex-wife; she's not a bad memory or a woman you used to know.You still think of her as your wife.”“Well, legally she is.”“Legally, sure.But most people, when they leave their spouse without a word for years at a time, change the language.But you still think of her like you're living as a married couple.”“So?”“So … you tell me.” Mal shrugged and took a drink.“I never really wanted to go.I didn't want to leave Violet.But she didn't seem much like Violet at the time.I guess I'm not much like I was, either.It was like living with a stranger – A really sad, quiet stranger.I hoped Violet would come back but she never did.I moved on.”“Do you think about her?”“I try not to.”“But do you?”“Sometimes.” Roland shrugged.“Less as time goes on.You make one mistake and then you make a whole lot more mistakes and soon you've got so many mistakes to kick yourself over, that you can pick and choose what you feel bad about at any given time.”“What would you say to her if you did see her?” Mal took his cigarettes out again, put one in his mouth and offered the pack to Roland.Roland nodded.“Why? Do you know her? Are you going to take me back to Sydney to see her?”“I don't know her.” Mal tossed the pack to Roland.“And I'm not taking you anywhere you don't ask me to take you.I'm just wondering.”“I don't know.I guess I should say sorry.God knows I've got a shit-load to be sorry for.I don't think I could say anything else.There aren't enough sorries for what I've done so there's no way I could talk about anything else.”“What about your friends?”“Nothing.They're all just memories, now.Except maybe Lachlan.I think I'd say thank you to Lachlan.He really tried to help me when nobody else really cared.” Roland stared at the pack of cigarettes for a while.The little white paper sticks stared back at him from the brown paper box.Were they punishment to? He'd been smoking for years but since he left Violet, he'd embraced the habit like there was no tomorrow.He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that it was killing him.He knew he'd regret it.Maybe that was the point.Or maybe it just felt good.Roland couldn't be sure.“You don't think the others that came to see you cared?” Mal asked.“I don't know.It doesn't matter, anyway.I'm never going to see them again.”“I guess not.Don't you get lonely?”“Never.I'm not a hermit.I spent plenty of time with people in Armidale [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]