Kerry Heavens - Still Human

It’s not Max’s fault and deep down I can’t stand pushing him away, but I can’t stop myself. I know he’s talked to Danny and while I need him desperately right now, I’m hurt too.

“I bought you a coffee.’ he says bluntly. “And you left these on the coffee table.” He puts my mobile and the home phone on my bedside table. I know I left them there, it was deliberate. The home phone has rung about six times while I’ve been in here and I’ve gladly ignored it. God knows who keeps phoning, but there is no one ring code, so I’m not picking up. I doubt he would suddenly start ringing now, but I’m not taking the chance. I’ll continue to ignore it, except it will annoy me more now that it’s right next to me.

“Thanks,” I say with as much sarcasm as I can muster.

“You’re welcome.” He mirrors. Then he abruptly leaves. I heave a sigh of relief. I need to sort this out, I can’t fall out with Max over anyone, least of all a weasel like Danny.

I prop myself up on some pillows and try to get comfy. The phone rings again, so I diligently ignore it while flicking through channels, then, to my horror, the answer phone kicks in…the fucker has put it on! I’m frozen to the spot as the beep sounds. To make matters worse, my stupid, fucking phone plays the audio from the handset as well as the base unit, when they are not connected, so I can’t even get away from it. It’s right beside me and in the living room on loud speaker.

“Liv?” Danny’s voice rings through the flat. “Oh thank God, I thought I was going to get a brick wall forever!” There is a long pause. “Please call me, or at least check your emails…Please Liv. I love you.” He sighs and then it cuts off.

I’m still frozen as I digest the sound of his voice, the pain and urgency in his tone. I snap myself out of almost feeling sorry for him. I don’t care if he says he loves me, he’s blown it, it’s finished.

I snatch my mobile unthinking, to call Max and give him a piece of my mind and before I realise what I’m doing, I’m looking at the screen. Shit! I didn’t want my phone back. Twelve missed calls from Danny, all today. Thank goodness for silent mode. I toss it on the bed beside me in disgust. What now? I feel like the phones are both my enemies now too. Trapped and frustrated, I start to cry. I wallow in it for as long as I can stand and then feel really angry with myself. Look at the state I’m in.

The phone rings again. “Liv, please check your emails there is too much to say on a machine and if you won’t talk to me…Please, read them. I love you.” He pleads once again. He hangs on the line for a moment more before hanging up.

I shudder. This is such a head fuck. I battle with the surge of emotion that comes from hearing his voice and the sickening feeling when I think about what he has done. I can’t check my messages, not just because nothing he says could ever make it alright. But also because I can’t stand the fact that he thinks he has said something in those messages that would make me change my mind. He knows how I react to cheating. Who does he think he is? Oh this is too much, why right now? I just can’t cope. I pull the covers over my head. It’s right that I’m angry, but I can’t get over being angry with him. It’s another sad step on the road to putting him out of my life for good. I’ll stick it out a bit longer and if he won’t stop calling, I’ll get my number changed.

I gave serious consideration to actually picking up the phone when he called this morning, just to tell him to fuck off. It’s been five days since the first message and I’m getting sick of hearing his voice now, pleading and begging. Check my emails, blah, blah. He loves me, yeah sure. He loves me so much he shags some other girl while I’m out for the day. The problem is the rollercoaster of emotions it has put me on. Sometimes, when I hear his voice, instead of anger and irritation, I feel anguish or worse, comfort. His voice has always been my weakness and on my machine it fills every corner of the flat, there's nowhere to hide. I need to get out of here.

I sit on the edge of my bed and contemplate my wardrobe. Connie took my washing away yesterday and now I’m running out of clothes. Only loose bottoms fit over this damned leg and I don’t feel up to wearing a skirt. I rummage around in the places I can reach and find a pair of jogging bottoms that at first I don’t recognise. Then I realise, they’re Danny’s. I instinctively hold them up to my face and smell them. Why would I do such a stupid thing? They smell of him and this sends my emotions brimming over again, I burst into tears. How can I move on, when I’m so helpless and trapped in my flat, while he bombards me with calls?

I wash at the sink then, feeling sorry for myself, I pull on yesterday’s bottoms, the only thing that Connie isn’t washing, a clean t-shirt and a hoodie. I text Max.

‘Can you help me get down the stairs please x.’

We haven’t exactly been speaking for the last few days. I’m still angry with him for going behind my back. But he’s still been fantastic, which only makes it worse. I’m treating him like shit and I need my friend back, so I hope I’ve worded the text in such a way that suggests that I need his help. I want to start again, but I really don’t want to discuss it.

I find a small across-the-body handbag on the hooks by the front door and I put my purse and keys in it. I find my sunglasses next to the phone and put them on top of my head. Then I put my bag over my shoulder and head for the door. As I open the door at the top of the stairs, the one at the bottom flies open.

“What are you doing? You should be resting,” Max says incredulously.

“I need to get out of here,” I insist and, taking off my crutches, I start to lower myself to the floor.

“For fuck’s sake, Liv, let me help you.” He bounds up the stairs.

“No, I can do it. I just need a bit of help getting down to the floor I think.” I giggle, paused hovering above the ground, holding the banister, unable to commit to the final few inches.

Max laughs too as he approaches me. He holds me under my arms and gently lowers me the rest of the way.

“Thanks.” I smile.

He shakes his head. “You're such a control freak.”

“I know.” I grin, making no apologies for it.

“So how are we doing this?”

“Slowly,” I say, easing myself down the first stair, keeping my leg off the ground, straight out in front of me.

“I’ll just go ahead of you…you know, in case.” He picks up my crutches and stops several stairs in front of me.

It takes a couple of minutes for me to negotiate the twenty-two steps and then I need to rest for a minute before I can stand.

“This is exhausting!”

“Here,” says Max, lifting me up to standing and arranging my crutches for me. I smile gratefully, as he holds open the door into the diner.

“I’ll just sit in here,” I say, sliding myself into the back booth and lifting my foot onto the seat.

“Coffee?” Max asks rhetorically. Of course I'll have a coffee.

“Please, and can I have the phone too.”

It takes a minute to adjust to the hum of the diner after being upstairs for days. I didn’t intend to become a hermit, but I’ve been in a lot of pain. Anytime my leg isn’t elevated it’s agony, so I’ve been pretty bed/sofa bound.

Max comes back with the phone and two coffees and sits with me.

“So why aren’t you resting?” he asks, concerned.

“I’m hardly running a marathon down here, I’m sitting,” I say, sounding like a sulky teenager.

“You know what I mean. You are supposed to have your foot up.”

I point at my foot on the bench seat and give a little ‘see’ look. “I’m wearing the only trousers I have left that I can get over this monstrosity. I need to go shopping. I’m going to ring Connie and ask her nicely to wheel me to the centre, so I can buy some more.”

“I’ll take you,” he says.

“No, I need you here,” I say firmly.

“I told you, they have things all organised here, so that I can look after you. The only reason I’m down here now is because I didn’t think you were talking to me. But I was lurking in case you needed anything.”

I take his hand in mine and smile. “Of course I’m talking to you,” I say softly. “I just don’t want to talk about ‘that’.”

Max sighs. “Right, so where are we going?” he says with slight reluctance. I know he won’t just give up, but I’m grateful for the reprieve.

“Ultra-glam…The sports shop. I need more of these.” I point to my trackies and take a sip of my coffee. “Can we have some breakfast first though? I’m hungry.”

“Certainly Madame, what can I get for you?”

I can feel Max grinning as he pushes me through the door of the lift in the shopping centre. He’s loving this. Luckily the crowd is very sparse on a Monday morning, so I doubt we will run into anyone we know. In addition to delighting in my embarrassment, he has somewhere to hang his shopping, so he can go on forever. We got some tracksuit bottoms for me and some expensive trainers for him. I spent a ridiculous amount of money on skin care products, which really isn’t me, but as I’ve nothing much else to do, I thought I should at least start moisturising. We stop at the book shop and Max insists I buy the Fifty Shades trilogy to keep me occupied. Normally I would have no time to read, but I’m fairly free these days. Then we stop for a coffee in the new coffee shop at the bottom of the hill. Nice, but they're beginners, nothing I will lose any sleep over.

When we get back to the diner, Connie is sitting at the counter, waiting.

“You should have called me, I could have taken you,” she says.