Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Chapter Two (part four) - The Intruder

As I descend the steps to my flat I notice my front door is slightly ajar. Terrified, I inch closer, trying to recall my final movements on leaving the house earlier. Had my progesterone-addled brain failed me? I was sure I had closed it – wasn’t I?

Loitering at the door I try to decide what the best course of action would be. Scenes from every horror film in history fill my mind as the audience, watching me through their TV screens, shout and scream “Don’t go in! Walk back up the steps!” and then, turning to their housemate qualify that, “no-one in their right mind would walk through that door – even if it was broad day light!”

I walk through the door. As I edge through the blood-red entrance, I peer around the corner, into my living room-diner. With a sharp intake of breath I witness clothes strewn across the floor, in-amongst CD’s and books that lie crumpled and abused, all dignity gone with their innards exposed. A plant pot has tipped-over and cracked. Mud from the plant spills, like blood, into the grain of the wooded floorboards awaiting forensic disclosure. Scanning the room I try and identify any missing items. Hurriedly I mentally tick off a list in my head: TV, check. Stereo, check. Laptop, check. Camera, still there, and all my CD’s seem to be in their place...but how are those, where did these...” A noise from the bedroom jolts me back to the immediate threat, as I realise I am not alone in the flat.

Frozen to the spot, I run escape plans through my head, assessing time vs weight ratios. But, no sooner have I cooked-up a half-baked plan and put it into action than I hear the intruder move quickly from the bedroom through into the kitchen and then burst through the door that separates me with them.....
“Aaaaarrrrrrrggghhhhhhh....” I scream, terrified; relieved that I am a loud screamer and not a silent one.
“Aaaaarrrrrrrggghhhhhhh....” the other person screams too. Each scream uniting in a shrill crescendo, then we are joined by a third equally piercing screech,
“Eeeeeeeeeeghhhhhhh.” And yet this third screech sounds strangely familiar to me.... As blind terror subsides, consciousness kicks me from within as I pinpoint the 3rd noise as that of my whistling kettle reaching boiling point.

Peeling my eyes open to test my theory I bring the intruder into focus. Standing stock-still facing me with eyes wide open, pupils dilated, is Nancy!
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” I rage.
“What do you mean what am I doing, I live here!” she rages back. “And why are you screaming, you scared the shit out of me!”
I push past her and kill the kettle. Coming down a decibel or two I turn at her,
“I thought you were a burglar. Why aren’t you at work? Why is your shit all over the floor? Why are you here?”
Furious, my eyes bore deep into hers and between our gaze swims all the issues and loathing of the past two months. Nancy stands motionless, speechless. With mouth half open, she is perched to speak but words allude her. I feel a kick from within and we both draw our eyes over the large stomach that stands as referee between us. Very slowly and very carefully Nancy spells out the obvious:
“The reason I am packing up my things and there is stuff everywhere is because I am moving out!”
I look around me and indeed it is all of Nancy’s things that carpet the floor. However, my temper switch has already tripped and her explanation does little to block my fury.
“Well, it’s about time Nancy! You have had the keys to your house now for two weeks, and I know you wanted to decorate before you moved in but it may have escaped your notice that I AM DUE TO GIVE BIRTH IN A WEEK!! And the last thing I need is a selfish, unthinking, teenager living with me while she decides what bloody colour to paint her bedroom. I have put up with your inconsiderate behaviour for long enough. You are supposed to be my birth partner for gods sake; looking after me and making life easier for ME! I shouldn’t be halfway up ladders, steaming your wallpaper off 8 1/2 months pregnant! Jesus Christ Nancy, I’m not even sure I want you in hospital with me in case Drew phones up with an urgent Champagne Drinks Party that you ‘just can’t get out of’”
Nancy bursts into tears.
Oh shit. I suspect I may have gone a bit too far. Faltering a little I stand and watch her crumple down on the sofa. After a couple of seconds my maternal instincts take over and sitting down next to her I offer a comforting hug.
“I’m sorry Nancy, it’s just that my whole world is about to change and I don’t know if it’s for the better or worse, and I’m scared. I’m really scared and I feel I am doing it all on my own, and well, it’s lonely, really lonely. And I know you can’t really understand how I feel, but I just wish you would show a bit more thought and realise that I really need some time to myself to get things ready – or as ready as I can – so at least I can start with everything in its place.” I breathe and search her eyes for some empathy.
Shoulders shuddering, Nancy wipes the tears and snot from her face with the back of her hand, and in a little voice, tries to speak,
“but...I...do...un...der...stand” she manages, between sobs.
“That’s...why...I’ve...been...seeing...Drew...so much.” She sniffs a long wet sniff and continues, “to give...you...some...space.”
Tears begin to roll down her face again as she squeezes her eyes closed.
I sigh and squeeze her shoulder once more.
“Oh Nancy, I’m sorry. It’s just bad timing that’s all. Let’s have a cup of tea and I’ll help you get your stuff packed into boxes.”
She manages a smile, amid a quiver.

Leaving her on the sofa I drag myself into the kitchen I click, click the hob alight and put the kettle back on. Stuffing tea bags into a couple of mugs, I allow for a moments reflection on Nancy’s angle of events:
Could she have been trying to keep out of my way? It was possible.

I marvelled how at-odds we had been; me wanting more time with her, and her staying away. Still, I was glad it was all out in the open now. I had been really sceptical about Nancy being my number one and we needed to be straight-up with one another....

The kettle whistles out its tune once more and I fill our mugs with its steaming water. Moving back into the front room, I head towards Nancy who sits looking down with her fingers twiddling in her lap.
“There you go!” I say, handing Nancy her tea with a warm smile.
“Thanks.” she smiles back, and then meekly she conjures up an olive branch,
“Ummm, I was planning on organising a girly picnic in the park this weekend for you if you fancy it. I thought I could invite Kate and Debbie too.”
“I’d love that.” I say encouragingly.
“And...ummm...I’ve asked Drew to get hold of some grass for me as I thought it might be a good pain relief, you know, while you’re in labour....before you go to the hospital that is. Just in case...I mean, you don’t have to....”
With eyes smiling back at her I give her a big hug.
“That’s a great idea! If I’m going to elect for temporary paralysis through pharmaceuticals when giving birth, then why not recreational drugs as an aperitif!”
Nancy smiles back at me relieved that her idea might be of use.

Finishing off our tea we survey the room once more. Nancy’s belongings litter the entire floor. It is a mammoth job that lies ahead of her just to get it all into boxes and I reluctantly move myself into a proactive state.
“Come on!” I order, “Get some tunes on and let’s get you packed-up and moved into your brand new home.”
A big grin stretches across Nancy’s face and we get to work filling boxes, and clearing my floor.