Chapter 19 - Jim, Tuesday

The day got off to a bit of a sluggish start - a late night to start the week is never a good idea, but having Simon round was the right thing to do. He’s always found it a bit difficult to make friends, so those of us he has have to really look out for him. I hope he’ll be okay, although to be honest a change of job might do him good, if the shock of losing the one he has doesn’t throw him over the edge. I phoned him this morning to see how he was and he sounded fairly normal. Well, as normal as a depressed closet case Mummy’s boy about to lose his job could sound.
I had a pretty productive morning at work, putting the finishing touches to the stuff I’d done yesterday. I reworked some of the report, then sent it round the office to accumulate comments and criticism. I felt pretty pleased with myself, I’d done a good job, and touch wood there’s nothing serious anyone should want to change. It’s good to get a big job done, and it made me remember why I actually took the job in the first place.
In fact I’ve noticed that I generally feeling more positive about everything this week. I wonder if I’ve turned a corner about the Maria thing? I was thinking about it at lunchtime. I went out to get some fresh air, and just walk around the streets for a bit. I wasn’t even properly hungry, so lunch ended up being a cake - something unnecessarily creamy and foolish looking. Anyway, I decided it might be time to get back in touch with her. Yes, I know we’d agreed a sixty day cooling off period - she’d read it in some ‘how to survive a break-up’ kind of book. The idea is that you have no contact with the person you’ve split up with for sixty days, giving you time to heal and start to mend your life. I went along with it because I had no option really. I mean, I was the one who was unfaithful, so I was in no position to demand anything. Sounds like bollocks to me, although I must admit I haven’t wanted to see her. Not the her now. I’ve missed the old Maria, but not the new one who threw things at me and called me all the names she could muster, who broke my stuff and beat me, who broke my heart when she left and took all the nice things from the house.
Bt now I wonder how she is? I wonder if she’s okay? I wouldn’t dare phone her friends, they’d never tell me anyway. I don’t even think some of them liked me when things were good, let alone now. Funny that, as some of my friends never liked Maria - why were we such a great couple and yet no one else could see it? Except could we have been that great a couple if I went and slept with someone else? It never occurred to me, but it was one of the things Maria screamed at me when she found out. God I was such a twat.
But I’m not so stupid as to think she’d ever come back. I know I’ve blown it, and I feel like I ought to tell her that. I don’t want her abiding memory of me to be that I’m some kind of fuckwit. I want her to know that I’ve worked things out and realise that I’m wrong. I want her to know that I’m properly sorry, and not just the sorry I said I was to make her stop throwing things.
So I decided to write to her. Yes, I know it breaks her sixty day rule, but she doesn’t have to read it if she doesn’t want to. She’ll recognise the writing so she’s unlikely to open it by mistake. But it’s bullshit as well, as if she’s going to get a letter and not open it! There’s always the chance that she might just burn it, but I guess it’s a chance I’ll have to take. Anyway, I took advantage of the fact that things were quiet at work to start it. I really only intended to make a few notes but once I started it all poured, and by the time everyone else started to leave I’d written pages on an A4 pad. Bits of it were illegible, too much crossing out and bits added, but I think I’d managed to get out everything I’d wanted to say. I decided to take it home and reread it, and maybe rewrite it, but certainly not post it, possibly never post it. I was one of those cathartic things that felt good to do, but needed sleeping on.
As I left my manager shouted to me from his office, “Good report Jim! Nice work!”, which sent me out of the building with a spring in my step. Turns out it was a good day! But what to do for the evening? Me and the cat again? Love him as I did it just seemed like a waste. Surely there was more to life than that? But my options were limited - pub? Not on my own. Restaurant? Ditto. Was it too late to round up some friends? I think it was too late in many ways - I’d drifted apart from most of them when I was with Maria, and it’d be just too predictable to get in touch with them now she’s gone. I did email Nick earlier in the day, as I’d been thinking about him since I saw Simon yesterday, but he never replied. I guess he could have been at work, or out already. There was always Gay Dave, but I didn’t have his number at work. So me and the cat it was! Lucky cat!
But if I’m staying in for the evening I ought to do it in comfort, so I stopped in at the supermarket to get some supplies - nice food? Check. Cake and wine? Of course! A DVD to watch later, and a CD to play whilst I cooked? Good idea. Even the cat got something nice. I nearly whistled I was feeling so content.
I got home and the message light was flashing on the answer machine. For a brief moment I wondered if it might be Maria, but as soon as I pressed play I realised the voice wasn’t hers:

“Hey stranger, it’s Dave. I heard about you and Maria, sorry about that, hope you’re doing okay. Anyway, the reason for the call was just to see if you’d remembered it was Simon’s birthday on Thursday. I’d completely forgotten, but it is. He’s been a bit down lately, so I thought we ought to make an effort to get together and do something. Will you ring me and let me know if you can? Cheers mate.”
Oh fuck, it’s Simon’s birthday. Just like Dave I’d completely forgotten, and Simon wasn’t likely to remind anyone - he preferred no fuss at all, but he’d have been gutted if we’d forgotten. Especially with all the work stuff going on as well. Blimey, just as well Dave phoned.
I unpacked the shopping, said “hello” to the cat, who seems to have been sulking with me since Simon was here, then phoned Dave back. It was good to speak to him, he’s always so cheery it’s infectious. Of course he still behaves like a big kid, he really never has grown up. I wish he’d settle down, I’d like to see what that would do to him - I think it would be good for him, and then maybe he could get on with something extraordinary, instead of that wasting away in that office then shagging his way through the evenings.
Anyway, once we’d swapped news we talked about Simon - he’d not heard the redundancy news, and it kind of threw him. We were clearly going to have to think more carefully about what we were going to do. He really might not be in the mood to do anything at all, so Dave agreed to give him a call and make a few suggestions. Besides, it’s on Thursday - a slightly awkward night to go out, although I’m of the opinion that it doesn’t matter if you turn up to work on Friday feeling like shit - it’s like dress-down Friday for the mind. We decided to speak again the following day, then I headed off to enjoy my evening.
As my risotto slowly bubbled on the hob I reread the letter I’d written. Yes, some of it sounded a little mad. Not psychotic, just slightly unhinged. Well, who wouldn’t be when their girlfriend had left them? But I decided against rewriting it. She’d recognise the spirit it was written in I hoped, assuming she read it at all. But it was only after I’d put it in an envelope that I realised I wasn’t sure where she was. She hadn’t wanted me to contact her, so she hadn’t told me where she was going. I hadn’t been worried as I still had her mobile number if I needed to get in touch, but this was a bit of a disaster. One glass of wine later I decided that the only thing to do was to send it to her at work. It’s the way I could guarantee it’d get to her - her friends couldn’t necessarily be trusted to pass it on, so I’d have to risk her wrath and send it there.
Decision made it was time to settle down for the evening. The food turned out to be surprisingly good - I’ve clearly got my appetite back! Then the cat joined me, full of posh cat food and wanting his belly rubbed, and we settled down to watch a DVD like some married couple. I didn’t even feel the need for a spliff, although the wine bottle was never far from my reach…