Robert Simms stepped in from the wind into his tiny flat in
south London. The door rattled as he slammed it shut behind him, cutting out
the sound of the bustling rush hour traffic from the road below. He wiped his
feet on the brown welcome mat before bending down to pick up the post that lay
in the middle of it. He chucked the post on the table by the front of the door
and took off his scarf and coat, hanging them up on the peg by the door. He
kicked his shoes off and tucked them under the table, picking up the post once
more as he did so.
He shuffled through the tiny hallway and into the door on
his left which led to his tiny kitchen. He flicked the switch on the kettle and
the water began to boil. He prepared his cup, with his last tea bag,
semi-skimmed milk that was just beginning to turn and icing sugar as he had run
out of regular sugar the night before. Then, whilst leaning against the work
top he flicked through the post. Most of it was junk, offers for cheap pizzas,
discounts for the new curry house down the road that served even more
unappealing food than the last. The last piece of post was a speeding ticket.
Robert remembered the flash he thought he’d seen last week when he was driving
his car on one of those rare moments when he could get out of the endless
traffic jams, he’d been going 34 in a 30 MPH. Typical thought Robert, he gets caught doing that but the ones
going god knows how fast get off scot free.
The click from the kettle and the bubble of the water
against the metal sides snapped Robert out of his silent rant and he turned to
pour the boiling water into his mug. He swirled his spoon round the mug
watching the water and milk and tea becoming one in a hypnotic whirlpool. He
scooped up the tea bag tapped three times on his mug with his spoon then dumped
the tea bag into the bin.
Holding the mug by the handle Robert turned left out of the
kitchen straight into his bedroom where he sat down on the bed and switched on
his T.V. warming his hands with the mug.
He flicked through the channels, pausing on each one
momentarily, and then continuing through. Once he had circled all fifty without
finding anything of particular interest he settled on the news channel and took
a sip of his tea. He grimaced and made a mental note that icing sugar does not
make a suitable substitute for the regular kind.
He stared blindly at the screen. Various news reporters told
their stories; a murder of a farmers wife in Yorkshire, a drugs raid in London,
new ideas about memory. Robert was barely listening to any of them. He sat on
his bed, back against the head rest, feet stretched out in front of him
slightly crossed and both hands around his slowly cooling mug, a faint waft of
steam rising from the top.
Suddenly without really realising it he stood up and walked
to the cupboard size bathroom next to the T.V. He stood starring into the
mirror, thinking things through.
He studied his own face as if seeing it for the first time.
He still had a thick head of hair, black like his mothers, though the hints of
a silver fox were emerging around the sides. He had a slim face but it held no
joy. His eyes, blue, also like his mothers, held no happiness yet no trouble.
Robert turned on the cold tap, cupped his hands and splashed the cold water
that filled them over his face. He starred at himself for a very long time,
letting the water drip from his stubbly chin into the sink.
He decided that it would have to be now; it would have to be
today whilst he was sure of it. Robert L. Simms was going to kill himself, and
he’d do it in this very flat. The very flat he had spent the last 8 years of his
life, the flat that was meant to be temporary after leaving university would be
the flat where he would be found dead. He thought about who would find him. Not
many people at his work place really cared all too much. His parents lived in
Australia and would expect to hear from him, on average, once a month; any more
would often mean bad news. Robert reasoned that the most likely to find his
rotting corpse would be the Henderson’s from next door, they would eventually
smell the body and find him, hanging from the rail in the wardrobe, long dead.
This final thought sealed the deal for Robert, no one would miss him and once
he was gone he wouldn’t have any worries left, no money to worry about, no
worrying about food shopping, he’d never have to work again. This put a smile
on his face as he dabbed it with an old worn out towel.
Robert marched over to the wardrobe a new spring in his
step, soon he would be happy, and once it was over he would be ok.
Clothes flew out of the wardrobe still on their hangers as
Robert set about clearing a space for him. He took a tie off a hanger before
discarding the rest on the floor along side the other clothes. Robert had hoped
for a proper rope but found them near impossible to find, perhaps Robert had
wondered the hanging ropes were part of the poetic licence that Hollywood films
seemed to be able to use on just about anything to make it easier for an
audience to follow.
Never mind he thought, a tie would do just as nicely and
perhaps it would give the slightly less remorseful of his colleagues a chance to say that he was “all tied up”
when they found him. He checked the tie was strong enough then, when he was
confidant it wouldn’t break, set about making his final preparations, leaving
the tie dangling from the rack, ready for his neck.
***
He cleaned his flat, better than it had ever been cleaned
before. Dust that was as old as Robert was hovered up and thrown out with the
rest of the rubbish. When the flat was completly spotless, Robert ran a bubble
bath and gave himself a good scrub. When he got out to dry off, steam was
rising from him and he couldn’t help notice his similarity to a warm dog shit
on a freezing cold December morning. Robert let out his unhappy smile at this
thought, it’s a good job no one could see how dirty his mind was after he’d
died.
Once dry he stood naked in his bedroom ironing his best
suit, a black blazer, black tie, black trousers and a crisp white shirt. This
was topped off by his dad’s old Italian shoes which were so well polished that
Robert could see his face in them. Just for good measure Robert also ironed his
boxers and socks, better look smart all in all than be let down due to one
fault he thought. Then with the flat spotless and Robert all dressed up in his
Sunday best he stood in front of his bathroom mirror and examined himself.
Earlier that year Robert had wanted to end it. Before he
even contemplated how he could go about killing himself Robert had seen
something in his eye, when it had first happend he was unsure of what it was,
he only knew that it had stopped him from wanting to commit suicide. Then over
the next few months he began to relise what it was, that something in his eye,
was something that nearly everyone has all the time, the spark of life. It’s
the shine in someones eye, the very thing that makes you feel alive, Robert saw
it and realised that he wanted to live, to breathe, to see.
It hadn’t lasted long and hadn’t come back since that day,
and Robert had feared that it had truly gone forever. That was why he was back
here in this situation he reflected, he hadn’t been able to keep that spark for
more than the few fleeting seconds it had been there for and now he wanted to
kill himself again.
But, Robert decided, if that spark was there again, even for
a second then that’s it, this whole silly idea goes away, he will continue to
live even if he can’t enjoy it properly. All he needed was that spark.
He stared into his own eyes for a long time, minutes or
hours could have past and Robert wouldn’t have noticed the difference, he
wouldn’t take his eyes off of his reflections eyes.
If anyone had seen
him standing there, in his suit, starring into his own reflection in the most
hypnotic way, they may have thought him to be a very confused snake charmer.
Without warning Robert broke the stare and turned to face
the wardrobe on the far side of the room. He hadn’t seen the spark he wanted
and returned to the task at hand. He thought of it not as killing himself but
moving on to a place where he could be happy.
He stepped up into the wardrobe and onto a shoe stand which
he had positioned under the tie. He tied the tie tight around his neck, just
below his protruding Adam’s apple. He struggled for breath then remembered that
that was the idea of this operation.
This was it Robert thought, he was about to leave the world
and finally, after all this time be at peace. He began to rock back and forth
on the shoe stand. It was hard work to do from the angle Robert was at but
eventually he picked up momentum.
The base of the stand
thudded heavily on the floor boards below them and the sound grew louder with
every cycle of thuds as Robert built even more speed. Thud. Thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud,
thud-thud. Then with a sickening lurch the shoe stand cracked on its front two
legs and it was sent tumbling forward, leaving Roberts legs to flop uselessly
below his dangling body. The fall from the shoe stand wasn’t great enough to
break Robert’s neck and the tie did the trick and began to suck the life out of
him instantly. Instinctively his hand gripped at his throat, trying desperately
to stop him from dying.
Robert was calm in himself though, although the animalistic
part of his brain was going crazy, trying to survive, the logical part of
Robert told him that this is what he wanted, that soon he will be at peace, no
more pain, no more sadness, he will be happy.
Robert’s eyes felt like they would burst out of their
sockets, fearful that that could actually be a possibility and at the prospect
of his eyes not conforming with the cleanliness of Robert’s flat Robert closed
his eyes, letting the darkness of death absorb. A few more seconds and he would
be at peace.
The last breath left Roberts body through a gurgle of
choking.
***
The click from the kettle and the bubble of the water
against the metal sides snapped Robert’s eyes wide open in shock. He looked
down, he was still in his work shirt and trousers. He still held the speeding
ticket in his hand as if nothing happened. He dropped his post and ran into his
bedroom, the wardrobe doors were closed and, upon inspection Robert found that
all of his clothes were in the exact spaces as they were before he’d chucked
them out, if that ever happened. Had Robert really just imagined how he’d kill
himself? It couldn’t be he thought, he was sure he had died in that cupboard.
Robert made his way to the bathroom to inspect himself. He
was fine, the tie hadn’t even left a mark on his neck. To try and calm himself
down a filled his hands with cold water, letting it overlap his fingers and
fall into the sink. He splashed it onto his face and the cold water hit him
like a brick. This was real, he was still alive. Then what the hell had
happened to him?!
Almost as if on cue there were three meaningful knocks on
the door. Each one sent a chill down Robert’s spine.
Robert had seen enough horror films to know what would
happen if he were to open that door. He knew that if he was watching some other
helpless soul doing this he’d be screaming at them with every inch of his body
for them not to open the door. Every scary film made in the last 20 years told
him that opening that door would be the worst thing he could possibly do. And
yet, even as he thought this he was making his way to the door. It all seemed too
much of a coincidence, and he had to find out what was going on.
Robert placed his right hand on the door handle and his left
on the door for support. He paused. Slowly he pulled the handle down and opened
the door.
Standing in Roberts’ doorway was a tall, thin man. He had a
defined face, each bone seeming to protrude from his face as if trying to break
free of his skin. His eyes were narrow slits, so narrow in fact Robert
struggled to see anything beneath the eyelids. The man had neither eyebrows nor
eyelashes. His hair was black but thin and looked to be falling out. To Robert
the man looked as though he was loosing a fight for his life. He wore a black
suit, along with a black shirt and black tie. The only colour on the man came
not from his skin which held a grey tint to it but from the red handkerchief
which was just poking out of the blazer pocket. Although Robert saw all these
things he felt he would be unable to describe the man without him being
directly in front of him.
The man did not smile nor even acknowledge Roberts presence
at the door. Nevertheless Robert was intrigued by his arrival and extended a
welcome.
“Hello” Robert said calmly and politely.
“Good evening Mr. Simms, it’s truly a pleasure to meet you.”
The man extended a bony hand. Robert paused; uncertain to make contact with
this stranger but trying to be polite as ever shook his hand. The hand felt bitterly
cold in Roberts’ warm one. “I’ve heard many things about you Robert, may I call
you Robert?”
“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Robert dropped the politeness;
something about this man was all too much.
“Where are my manners!” the man exclaimed in a sarcastic
tone. He reached into his pocket with a smirk which stretched his lips further
than was apparently comfortable for him. He pulled out a business card and
handed it to Robert.
Robert took it from the man, being careful to avoid another
touch of the man’s unusually cold hands. He looked at the card, it was entirely
black on one side, Robert turned it over, again black but on this side, in
small red ink was; ‘MR Derrick Iablo’
“That’s Iablo as in e-ablo by the way, people always seem to
struggle with that. So Robert, may I come in so we can have a chat, I think its
best that I should.” The smirk had faded and before Robert could even reply the
man, Mr. Iablo was bustling past him and into the kitchen. Robert speechlessly
followed him into the kitchen and stood leaning against the door frame watching
the man help himself to a chocolate digestive from the biscuit tin on the
worktop. He showed one to Robert as if to say ‘don’t mind do you’ but took a bite out of it anyway.
“Nice place Robert, bit small, but you don’t need much room
if you’re on your own I guess.”
Robert stood silently. He was still dazed about the whole
situation. First he’d thought he’d died, then he was fine and now this strange
man, this Mr. Derrick Iablo was in his house acting as though they were life
long friends.
“I can tell what you’re thinking Robert and don’t worry all
will be made clear. First of all, you’re not really dead, well, not any more
anyway.” Iablo made a noise that might
have resembled a laugh but Robert couldn’t have been certain.
Robert seemed to find his voice again and with a slight
croak he asked the man why he was there.
“Well to help you of course Robert!”
“I’m sorry but I... What do I need your help with?”
“With life of course my dear boy! Don’t worry I’ve heard it
all before, I know all about you.” The smirked had returned and doubled, Robert
noticed the skin was cracking under the strain of the smirk but Iablo seemed
unaffected by this. “You’re not a very happy chap are you Robert, you never
have been, sure you’ve faked it to please your parents, you’re actually very
nice don’t get me wrong, but it’s not fair that you can’t be happy. You need
that spark Robert, the spark of happiness that you were looking for in the mirror?
Yes I saw that as well, don’t play coy with me. It’s real!”
Although this was put to him in a condescending manner, Robert
was forced to agree with him. Even when he was a child he wasn’t happy, but he
got by, he pretended, partially to keep his parents happy, partially to stay
out of counselling but most of all Robert didn’t want his parents to suffer the
social stigmatisms they’d undoubtedly face from having a depressed child.
Christmas time was the hardest, getting all those presents
and having to fake joy, he loved the toys he got, he loved his parents he just
couldn’t feel the happy warm feeling he knew he should around that time of
year. The same thing happened on his birthday as well. He didn’t want to seem
like some brat so it made sense to him to hide it all, he knew it was strange
but that didn’t mean he wanted anyone else to know.
“It’s not fair, that’s why I won’t have to put up with it
much longer.” Robert had dropped the
politeness now, this man knew too much and Robert didn’t like it. The thoughts
of Christmas had struck a chord and Robert’s patience seemed suddenly dried up.
“No, no, no Robert! We can’t have you doing that. It’s so
easy to fix, you’re special to me Robert. I can give you the spark.” He paused
considering his next words carefully. “That’s why I saved you.”
“Saved me? Saved me from what?”
“Let’s not play games boy, you just tried to kill yourself,
you were hanging yourself in that wardrobe in your bedroom.” He paused as if
considering his next words carefully. “But I changed that.”
“Wh-?” Robert began, but was too stunned to formulate any
real questions or words for that matter.
“Robert I’m going to
make you an offer, and I’d like very much for you to hear me out without
interruptions please.” The tone reminded Robert of a school teacher trying to
explain something to an inattentive class. “Robert, you can have a good life if
you could enjoy it, so for you to have that spark, that ability to make you
happy, all you have to do, is ask me for it.”
Iablo stood silent for a while allowing Robert to take in
what he had said before he continued.
Robert stood stunned. Could it really be true? All that he
ever wanted could be real just by asking this man for it. This man that knew too
much to be a man. His angel? Roberts’ Knight in shining armour ready to save
him from the world. Robert didn’t know where to begin, the entire time Iablo
was talking Robert was taking it in and processing it, now that all seemed to
come tumbling out in an unstoppable series of question.
“How did you save me? How do you know so much about my life?
How do you know how I feel? Are you a magician? An angel? How could any of this
be true?!” Robert slumped against the door frame, allowing it to take his full
weight as his legs wobbled.
“Robert, I am not an angel, nor a magician, I am a friend
who wants to help you.” If Robert had been looking at the man rather than at
his own shaking hands he’d have seen the man struggling to contain such a
sinister smile it could make a grown man run in fear. “Robert, ask me for
help.”
“You can really help me?” Robert asked, still starring at
his hands.
“I can.”
Robert stood, jaw slightly ajar. Suddenly happiness was in
reach, this wonderful man was here to make him normal. All he had to do was
accept his help and everything would be ok. Or would it? Surely this couldn’t
be real? He must be going mad, the depressive like state he’d been in for most
of his life had finally caught up with him. But there was something about
Iablo. Robert couldn’t quite pick it out but then, staring at the tall thin
man’s snake like eyes he realised what it was. The spark he had seen earlier
that year, the one that had stopped him trying it before, that had kept him
alive for those few months more, it was Iablo’s eye. Robert could see it now as
he looked, a shimmer of what Robert craved, a glint of happiness. Robert now
knew almost defiantly that Iablo wasn’t of this world however crazy that may be
if he helped Robert something may actually happen, something may finally
change.
“Ok, help me.”
Almost as if he had known what he was going to say, Iablo instantly
patted him hard on the back.
“Excellent!” he exclaimed. “I’ll get out of your hair my
dear boy. Get some rest, you died today after all!” And just as quickly as he
had arrived the man sauntered out of Roberts front door and down the road.
Robert stood up shakily, barely aware of his own body. He
seemed to float to his bed feeling terribly tired now. When he reached the foot
of his bed he crashed down and fell instantly asleep.
***
If Robert had watched Mr. D. Iablo leave his South London
flat he would have seen him turn left onto the road, take 3 steps then
disappear as if he had never been there. The only evidence that remained of his
presence was the faint smell of a bonfire and a burnt pair of footprints on the
scorched concrete.
***
The radio crackled with the sound of heavy static as the
battered Suzuki Swift chuddered along in the morning traffic. The red paint was
faded and scratched all over, the years and weather had taken their toll on the
loyal car. The right rear wheel was a spare and had been on long past its
recommended limit. The engine grunted as it was put back to work, as the
traffic shuffled forward another few feet. London was waking up with the
routine traffic jams filling the air with angry honks of horns, blaring radios
and the distinct smell of wasted petrol.
Robert sat behind the wheel, suited up and blurry eyed, his
head swimming from the events of the previous night. He almost didn’t believe
the memories he kept playing over and over in his head. Yet something still
stuck nagging at him, almost yelling at him that it was true, that that man,
Mr. Iablo had changed his life. He had woken that morning with his head on the
floor with his legs flung uncomfortably on the edge of the bed. Robert could
not remember falling to sleep, he could barely remember going to bed.
Thinking back now Robert could see Iablo’s grin, strangely
more sickening in his memories. He hadn’t seen him leave but he heard the
distinctive rattle of his front door, the next thing he knew Robert was awake
and stumbling to the bathroom. The man Robert had seen in the mirror was the
same one as last night, the one that had been looking for the spark before he
had really known what the spark was. Robert had starred for a long time into
the man in the mirrors eyes, looking for what had been promised to him. Ten,
maybe twenty minutes had passed and nothing had happened. Roberts eyes were
looking unhappy and if anything, older.
Whilst the traffic ground to a halt once more Robert had a
quick glance into the rear view mirror. Still nothing there. Robert felt
humiliated and worse than ever before. Not because nothing had happened but because
he believed something could have happened, that things may actually change. A
tear rolled down Roberts cheek which he left to fall onto the white collar of
his shirt.
The radio continued to crackle and taking his frustration
against the world out on the old tape deck player Robert punched the auto seek
button several times sending the old technology into a frenzy, trying to play
catch-up with its self displaying a flicker of random frequencies on the small
screen. Eventually it settled on one station, which was clear and crisp as if
in an apology for not being good enough before for Robert.
A soft voice floated out of the speakers. “Happiness is only an interlude between
unhappiness.” said the speaker, a rather cheery morning radio show was
having a particularly joyful week on people’s opinions on happiness, how we can be happy, what makes us happy and
so on. That particular morning (from what Robert could gather between the
elongated periods of static) it was why happiness could not be a constant. The
talking had stopped again and static filled the frequency, not that Robert was
paying much attention any more. He switched of the radio and aside from the
honking horns and growl of countless engines the car was silent. The words
however echoed for Robert, their meaning feeling all to familiar to him.
Perhaps last nights glimpse of hope was the worlds way of giving Robert some
form of happiness. “Happiness is only an interlude between unhappiness.” The words rang clear, crisp and consistent in
his mind. Robert felt that he was to spend the rest of his life being unhappy,
happiness only coming to him in fits of insanity like what he thought had
happened last night.
Robert cursed under his breath as the traffic edge forward.
How could he have been so foolish as to actually believe what he had seen last
night. Had he finally snapped? Robert thought of the possibility, turning it
over in his mind. He tried to look at his life from the point of view of one of
those psychiatrists he’d seen in poor psychological thriller films. He was, in
their professional opinion, a manic depressive who was extremely covert in
digressing this emotional flaw to even his closest family members. He lived
alone, far from any relatives, had no real friends other than a group of work
colleagues that he would chat to if they instigated a conversation which they
rarely did, he had no loving partner and mostly kept himself to himself. He
also had visions of strange men entering his apartment and offering happiness
just by asking them for it. Robert concluded that he would be classed as a
recluse manic-depressive male with slight schizophrenia tendencies perhaps
sparked or fuelled by an underlying homosexual desire which was never explored.
Robert breathed heavily out of his nose with a slight twitch
of a smile creeping in from the left side of his lip; as close as he had ever
come to a natural smile and the best laugh he could muster.
“Well done Dr. Simms, another great diagnostic!” Robert said
aloud, alone in his car. The traffic rolled forward and Robert was finally able
to make his turning only to be stuck in more traffic. He sat thinking for a
moment. Maybe he should start seeing someone, maybe not a full blown psychiatrist;
he didn’t think he was quite that crazy yet. But maybe a counsellor...? Yes. Or would it be easier if it just all...
Roberts’s train of thought was cut off by a loud, long and
overly aggressive beep of a horn from a silver Land Rover behind him. Whilst in
a world of his own, the traffic had moved forward a full foot and Robert had
failed to move into it; apparently aggravating the owner of the absurdly large
vehicle that Robert felt was quite frankly stupid for London roads. Why buy an off-road car if you’re not off
road arse-hole. But Robert
nonetheless stuck up an apologetic hand in front of the rear-view mirror
for the Land Rover owner to see and Robert’s car crawled forward 12 inches to
take up its new position.
***
He felt it happening in the morning meeting.
After a full hour of being sat in the morning rush hour
traffic, Robert had entered the regimental grey building that contained his
offices. He had passed the receptionist whose name he did not know, but had always
wanted to learn and climbed the stairs at the far end of the reception. He
climbed the same three flights of stairs that he had climbed for the past five
years and pulled open the brown door that led to the open planned room that
made up Robert’s work place. It was full of grey cubicles housing Roberts
colleagues, some of which were busy scurrying back and forth from their
cubicles to the photo-copier or the printer or the kettle, contently going
about their morning rituals. As always he had kept his head down and walked to
his own cubicle in the near corner of the office. Away from his uncaring
colleagues he stowed his brown satchel bag under his desk, flung his blazer
over the back of the chair and set about booting up the computer.
The rest of the morning had been tedious work, catching up
with what he had failed to finish the night before. He’d always been playing
catch-up with his work, he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t had to come
in to the office early and leave later than everyone else.
At 10 A.M. the
manager had sauntered in, casually walking to his work place as if he had all
the time in the world, despite being an hour late. The manager was an arrogant
man by the name of Paul Greene. Robert hated the very core of the man for
everything he stood for. He was a hypocrite, an alcoholic and, if Robert
believed the rumours, not only cheating on his wife, but cheating on his
mistress with another mistress. Robert hadn’t quite known what to think when he
had over heard Paula ‘the blab’ and Jane ‘the gossip’ talking about that in the
next cubicle over from him. He could see how a man like Greene wasn’t faithful
to his wife but Robert couldn’t believe that three women could be attracted to
such a man. He was average in everyway, always smelt damp and the little hair
he had left was greasy and styled in the least convincing comb-over Robert had
ever seen.
At 10:15 A.M. the team had been called to the meeting which
was held in a long glass walled room with a long, cheap wooden table that had
too few chairs to accommodate the work force. Robert was sat next to Jane ‘the
gossip’ and a tall, broad man called George. Robert wasn’t sure on George’s
actual job but judging by the gormless look he held Robert didn’t expect it to
be anything too important.
The meeting had dragged on for 10 minutes when Robert
noticed a change in him. Whilst talk of what was needed to push the company
forward, changes to the holiday schedule and break regulations Robert felt
something deep inside him. It was a warm
feeling in his stomach that Robert knew was coming from somewhere else, but he
let it grow all the same. He felt it envelop him and he felt as if he were
almost glowing. Robert took a sip of the water that had been provided and as he
touched the cool crisp water to his lips his eyes widened in shock. He put the
glass back to the table gently, frightened of scaring away what he thought he
had just felt. He raised his left arm to his lips and ran a finger from one
corner of his mouth, down a slight dip and back up in the opposite corner.
Tears filled Roberts eyes. He was smiling! Robert couldn’t
breath. Iablo had done something. All that worry from the morning that he had
been going crazy, all because of that visit from that strange man. It had been
true. Iablo had given him the happiness Robert had craved. He recognised that
warm feeling now. It had been described a million different times in a million
different ways. It was the feeling of happiness, a happiness he couldn’t
contain. The first true happiness he had ever felt without any need to fake it.
All his colleagues here to witness this wonderful moment. Robert traced the
room slowly with his eyes, mentally willing anyone of them to look at him with
the first real toothy grin he had ever given. He didn’t care. He felt happy and
wanted nothing more than to smile and be happy, to enjoy this warm feeling deep
inside that had now risen well into his heart.
The rest of the meeting flew by with talk of letting staff
in other sectors go and the budget on paper being tightened drifting harmlessly
in the air over Roberts head. Never did the smile fall from Roberts face, it
hurt like hell in the end but he was going to make the most of his new found
happiness.
Once Greene had dismissed them everyone piled out of the
meeting room and back to their grey cubicles. Robert returned to his and set to
work, finally truly happy, feeling motivated to crack on with his work and
excited to go out and live.
***
Robert had finished his work. He almost couldn’t believe his
accomplishment. It was 4:59 P.M. and Robert Simms was up to date and ready to
leave on time for the first evening in 5 years. He rose out of his chair, head
held high and swung his blazer over his arms, pulling it around his body. Then,
with his satchel flung over his shoulder he sauntered out of the office, like
Greene, without a care in the world. He walked down the stairs, taking them one
at a time. He was in no rush tonight, he was leaving with the rest of London
and even though Robert knew it would take hours to get across London at this
time Robert was happy.
As Robert entered the reception he was pleasantly surprised
to see the receptionist whose name he never knew but always wanted to learn was
still there, finishing up her own work for the evening. She stood, hunched over
the chair busy tidying up her belongings into an open hand bag. Her brown locks
fell over her face towards the desk. Robert knew that that face was the most
beautiful he had ever seen and the second he had seen it on his first day, he
had been smitten. He had quickly concluded that even the most depressed person
in the world could have a crush on someone as beautiful as her.
Robert walked past her desk, closer than he had ever dared
go before and with his new found true smile on his face he wished her a nice
evening to which she raised her head momentarily, smiled and resumed her work.
***
The next few days continued much in the same way. Robert
loved his life. All the thoughts of killing himself had been washed away, no
trace of them remained. He wore a smile on his face everywhere he went. He was
interested in the television he watched, he laughed at the stand-ups on the
tele and cried from laughing whilst watching American Pie. He was eating good
food rather than the countless ready-meals he was having night after night
before Iablo’s intervention. He had time
in the shower to think of a plan for the day rather than contemplating suicide.
He was happier at work than he was at home. Robert felt good to be showing off
his smile, to be standing tall in the office, to be saying hello and actually
engaging with his colleagues out of choice. Robert was on top of his work load,
in fact he was well ahead of it. He had time to eat his lunch away from his
desk. He went to a park, and sat on a bench and gazed out at the small trees
and took in the smells and sounds of a London park. Robert was a new man and he
felt all the better for it. Iablo had done more than save his life, he’d made
it worthwhile.
***
Ten days after Iablo’s visit and Robert was walking into the
reception area at 5:00 P.M. exactly. The receptionist whose name he did not
know but had always wanted to learn was sat at her desk typing quickly and
fluently. Robert took a deep breath in. Nerves had begin to set in and suddenly
his plan didn’t seem so smooth. Robert had finished his work around three but
knew the reception would still be busy then with all sorts of people visiting
all numbers of different floor and so had waited and planned on how he was
going to finally, after all these years of being miserable finally strike up a
conversation with her.
His footsteps sounded uncomfortably loud as he approached
her desk, her eyes never leaving the glow of the screen. Robert took another
shallow nerve seducing breath and began.
“Hey, I’m Robert Simms.” His voice cracked a little, he
coughed and continued. “I have been working here for five years now,” the
receptionists eyes drifted up to meet Roberts, yet her fingers carried on
typing away, “and in all that time I have never properly spoken to you, nor do
I know your name. I have however always thought you to be the most beautiful
woman, not just in this building but the most beautiful I have ever seen.” She
stopped typing. “I have wanted to tell
you that ever since my first day here but have only recently been in the right
place in my life to do so.” Robert paused, expecting the receptionist whose
name he did not know but had always wanted to learn to say something in
response. She didn’t. “You’re beautiful,
this is possibly cheesy and I’m very nervous but is there any chance that you
would like to go out with me and get something to eat sometime? Maybe.”
Roberts heart was in his throat. His heart was pumping like
made and even though he knew how utterly terrifying this was, he was loving
every minute of it. He had never felt so alive. There was a long moment of
silence, time seemed to stretch forever for Robert. He stared into her brown
eyes, she stared back at his and then, to Roberts relief a smile crept onto her
face.
“Well Robert, you don’t say anything to me for all that
bloody time and then you dump it all on my desk at once!” she’s Irish! He thought, then Robert smiled, the biggest, most
genuine he had ever felt. “Right, where do I start? I’m Erin, receptionist
extraordinaire,” she flashed Robert a quick wink and carried on. “I’ve gotta
say Robert, you’re not too sore on the eyes yourself darling.”
Robert was embarrassed by her compliment, trying to hide it
but fearing that his embarrassment was already showing red-hot on his checks.
“Why didn’t you bloody say something when you started?!
Think of the things that we could’ve done in that time!” Another wink, setting
Robert’s heart to skip beat.
“Well I eh-“ Robert stuttered, the full effects of his
embarrassment washing over him,
suppressing his speech.
Erin leant over the desk and put her left index finger on
his lips. It felt warm, soft and right on his dry lips and his nerves suddenly
washed away, as if, in that moment everything was normal. Robert was smiling
again under her finger.
“Don’t get yourself into a worry darling. I’m not free
tonight but tomorrow I’m all yours. I only live round the corner so how about I
walk down here and you pick me up outside, save me having to move house if you
turn out to be a nutter.” Robert laughed, deeply and happily. “Now, shall we say 8, tomorrow night, out
front? I trust you can drive and being the gentlemen that you are darling, you
will pick me up? That sound good to you?”
Erin moved her index finger that she held on Roberts lip up
and down, making him move his head, nodding in agreement, although he would
have happily done it himself. What she had said had sounded perfect, even more
so coming from her soft lyrical Irish accent.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Robert said with a broad grin,
but stood standing in his place starring into the dark brown eyes of Erin.
“Yes you will Mr. Simms. Now get off with ya, some off us
have work to do.” She flashed him another wink and he turned and walked towards
the door. Just as he pulled back the black door Erin called to him from behind
her desk. “Actually darling, I turn that not too bad looking comment from
earlier into a very good looking, well done on a fine derrière Simms.”
Robert turned and gave a bow of his head, before leaving the
dull grey building. As he walked past the front window he could see Erin chuckling away to herself,
then if he wasn’t mistaken, whilst nibbling the end of her pen he thought saw
her smile the smile of a person who was charmed.
***
Robert lay in bed that night hands crossed behind his head
staring up at the ceiling, his now usual smile settled on his face. He was
thinking of Erin. How he loved that name. After all those years of not knowing ,
then to hear that elegant name fall from her lips. And in that accent! How unexpected
that had been. He could picture her now, winking at him, smiling at him, he was
certain that they had been flirting and he was pleased that she liked at least
the look of him.
Then he worried. What happens if they get on so well
tomorrow that it leads to something more. He’d done it before, of course he had
but not out of love or even real want but out of normality, he had thought that
sex may bring him happiness. It had been pleasant enough but to Robert it had
just been a physical act like running and he got no joy or excitement out of
it. But he wanted to with Erin, there was something about her that just
connected the two of them, from Robert’s point of view anyway.
He saw her in his
minds eye again and as he drifted off he pictured her laughing and with that
image in his mind, he fell asleep with a smile on his face once more.
***
Robert was nervous as he stood
outside the big grey building which housed the office in which he worked. He
was more nervous than he could ever remember being.
He had woken up that morning with
a smile on his face. He had showered, shaved and driven to work with that same
smile on his face, not even the honking horns or the slow movement of the
morning rush hour traffic had been able to wipe it off. And why should it of?
He had managed, somehow to get a date with the girl he had lusted after for
years. And what a girl! Perfect height, slim, brunette, nicer than nice body
and Irish! He struggled to believe his luck.
Although she had not been there
when Robert arrived at work he had thought about her all day. When his boss
came in late it didn’t bother him, when he got everyone else’s busy work
off-loaded to him, he was unaffected and when he was screamed at for not
finishing it before he left he simply smiled and walked out of the office, and
all because he had kept the thought of seeing Erin in his mind.
As Robert entered the reception
area he saw her, wonderful Erin with her wonderful smile and beautiful eyes
meeting his gaze.
“Hello you, see you tonight still
yeah? Don’t be late darling,” she had said. That was when the nerves had hit
him like a brick. Robert replied some slurred response which he hoped resembled
a ‘yes’ and shakily left the building.
Driving home Robert struggled to
focus on the road, his mind on a million other questions barely noticing the
red lights in time. How the hell did I
manage to get her to go out with me? How am I going to talk to her when I’m
like this after a hello? What am I going to wear? Am I going to be sick? Oh
god! What if I’m sick on her? Roberts mind was in a battle with itself,
desperately trying to calm down.
Home. Robert showered, washed
away the nerves and the sweat. Dried and calmer. He had changed into a pair of
beige chinos, light blue checker shirt and a black jumper over the top. He
stood in front of the mirror, starring at his smug grin which had returned
after being washed away by uncontrollable nerves.
He had pulled the jumper back off
over his head, readjusted his hair, perfectly messy like in the magazines and
grinned. The glint in his eyes brightened up his entire face, not literally but
he seemed to be in a better place and he put it down to that.
Now Robert was leaning against
the pay and display machine opposite his car trying to look as cool as he
possibly could. He had arrived ten minutes early just to make sure he didn’t
disappoint Erin.
His stomach was doing flips and
his breath was getting faster with every minute that passed. Robert suddenly
became away of his sweaty arm pits and desperately tried to calm down, getting
like this would do no good and he cursed himself at not bringing a can of
deodorant to just have in the car.
Three minutes past eight?! She’s three minutes late! She’s ditched me!
No calm down! Its only three minutes, you’re getting yourself worked up for –
A hand tapped on Roberts left
shoulder interrupting his train of thought and with a girlish yelp he jumped
away and span around to face them, losing his footing in the process and
stumbling into the road.
Erin stood next to the pay and
display machine, hand covering her mouth. She tried to stifle an obvious laugh
with a less than sympathetic “awwwwww” but it ended up being more laughter than
pity.
“Robert, it’s me! What are you to
run screaming?” She spoke in an over the top posh English accent which would have reminded Robert of an English
Duchess if he had not been so angry.
Roberts reply resembled more of
an English Pauper than English Duke; “Jesus Christ Erin! You scared the shit
out of me!” Then catching his tone he added, “Sorry, you look...” Robert stared
at her as if noticing her for the first time. She was wearing black heels,
black tights, little make-up and a beautiful red-dress with a plunging
neck-line revealing a rather surprising cleavage for a girl of Erin’s size.
Despite all of the lovely things he could say to her, all of the adjectives the
English language had to use on occasions such as this, all he could managed was a feeble; “wow,” as
he picked himself up out of the road.
“Well thank-you, I think,” she
smiled and with a wink added; “You’re looking very wow yourself.”
Robert smiled back and despite
his nerves, which were quickly returning after his scare, he walked Erin over
to his red Suzuki Swift and the date began.
***
Erin shut the door behind her before Robert had completely
disappeared from view. Don’t want to seem
too desperate. She sighed. What a night! She had never felt so connected to
someone in such a short space of time. How she had gone all those years seeing
him skulk and in her having to pretend not to notice him staring at her she’ll
never know. Bless him.
Erin walked into her bedroom and slipped out of her red
dress and wandered into her bathroom in her underwear. She caught sight of
herself in the mirror he had said wow to
this! She was chuffed with herself and half laughed as she squeezed the
toothpaste on to her brush,. Erin was actually considering breaking her most
clichéd ‘five dates before sex’ rule that she had been determined to stick to.
She hummed to herself ‘Don’t look back in Anger’ as she brushed her teeth.
Spit. Rinse. Strip.
Naked. Bed.
As she lay there under her thick duvet, with a pillow
between her thighs, the smile that had been plastered on her face since she had
parted company from Robert began to fade, a worried crumpling of her beautiful
face replaced it and, as she fell asleep, she was not entirely sure as to what
was troubling her.
***
Robert crashed down onto his bed, on his back, alone. His
head was swimming with a blur of laughter, connection, stories, revelations,
flirtation and happiness cascading around in his mind.
It was just after 1 A.M. and Robert had just got back to his
tiny flat after dropping Erin home. The night couldn’t have gone better for
Robert. They talked for hours about everything; family, growing up, friends,
work, TV shows, films. And for the first time in his life Robert had spoken to
another person about the depression he had felt for most of his life, although
he missed out the most recent addition to that story of the sudden appearance
of Iablo after Robert tried to kill himself. But he felt that may be a bit too
much on a first date.
They had barely stopped to eat, and in the end the
conversation was so engaging Robert let his steak and chips go cold. And what
did he care! He was making a beautiful girl laugh, she was touching his hand
and they were connecting on a level that Robert had never felt before. He was
happy.
***
Four dates later and Robert and
Erin lay naked on their backs breathing heavily. Robert could barely contain
his glee. It was the best he had ever had and he felt that it truly meant
something, that it was truly special to them both. As he lay panting he could
feel Erin cuddle into his chest and lay her left hand on his right peck whilst
she rested her check on the left one.
“I can feel your heart beating”
Erin whispered to him.
“Same,” then realising he was
whispering along with her, he laughed and added; “Why are we whispering?”
“Because if we talk normally
again this moment will be over and you’ll want to leave.” She started tracing a
swirl on his chest parting the hair with her index finger as she went.
“Erin, look at me.” She twisted
her head round and placed her hands under her chin so she could rest
comfortably. “You have made me the happiest that I have ever been in my life,
I’m not quite sure how but you have taken all the depression away from me and I
feel great because of it. I never want to leave this spot or be away from you
again.” He gave her a gentle smile and she returned it but could not meet his
eyes as she did.
“You’re very sweet Robert,” she
leant up and kissed his lips once, then his chin and finally his chest before
nestling down and falling asleep with his arm around her.
Robert lay smiling with the beautiful
girl sleeping on his chest. He stared up at the ceiling trying to make shapes
and pictures out of the artex. How his life had changed so dramatically for the
better in just a month. He was happy, something he didn’t think to be possible
and more than that he was in love. He knew it was far too soon to say anything
but he knew in his heart that it was love. It had been something Robert felt
the instant they had touched hands on their first date, a burning desire to be
with Erin for the rest of his life, something deep down inside him told him
that it had to be, that something bigger than both of them had drawn them
together. Robert knew that it was meant to be perfect.
And deeper down than that still
Robert knew that Iablo had been more than just a man, he was the reason for
Robert being like this, he was the one who made him happy and then gave him
Erin. In his heart of hearts Robert knew that he owed his life to Iablo and
would never repay the debt he owed to him.
***
Erin wasn’t asleep. She held tears back behind tightly
clenched eyelids although she wasn’t exactly sure as to why they were there.
Erin tried her best to make her breath seem as sleep like as possible, a trick
she hadn’t used for nearly 14 years when she used to pretend to be a sleep when
her parents came up to check she wasn’t watching T.V. late at night although
she always was. She really liked Robert, she had wanted to do this, and the sex
had been amazing to say the least. But something wasn’t right. Erin felt...
sad. She knew that everything in her life should be fine, great job, new
boyfriend, no real money issues but there was something and it was growing.
She hated to admit it but Erin realised it was only when she
was with Robert that she felt like this. And now, as she lay on his chest,
holding back the tears the sadness was growing. Maybe they weren’t so perfect
if this was happening to her. And why had it only started since she had been
going out with Robert? Maybe she was just imagining it, that she was just
having a bit of a hard time recently and it just happened to coincide with her
dating Robert? Hmmmm.
When she was sure that Robert was asleep she got dressed
silently, kissed his forehead gently and wrote out a short note feeding him
some rubbish that she had to go to the dentist early in the morning but thanked
him for a lovely time. She signed the note with ‘love from’ and two kisses.
Erin then left his tiny flat, closing the door softly behind her. She needed
some air. She needed some time to think.
***
Robert woke to his phone vibrating harshly against the cheap
wooden bedside table. He picked it up and switched off the alarm before sitting
up in bed and letting his eyes unclench from the cocoon of sleep they had
enwrapped themselves. He called out to Erin presuming she was in the bathroom.
No answer. He gazed around the room, but saw no trace that she had been there
last night. Even her knickers had been taken down from the curtain rail. He
stared across his bed to his T.V. then scrambled towards it and picked up a
note written in tiny hand writing on a dirty yellow post-it-note.
Robert,
Thank you so much for last night, you were amazing, believe me. Anyway darling I’m sorry I had to run off so early but I have an appointment at the dentist this morning so had to dash. Give me a call some time. Love from Erin. Xx
Thank you so much for last night, you were amazing, believe me. Anyway darling I’m sorry I had to run off so early but I have an appointment at the dentist this morning so had to dash. Give me a call some time. Love from Erin. Xx
He smiled and kissed the note being careful not to crumple
it any more. What a night it had been. Then, rather chuffed with Erin’s compliment
over his sex skills he sauntered into the bathroom and began getting ready for
the day.
***
Robert was sitting at his desk in late afternoon later that
day, blankly starring at the computer screen which gave out a faint glow. His
mind was a million miles away, in a wonderful place he had imagined up in the
last hour and a half called Happiness Valley. It was a beautiful landscape with
rolling countryside, surrounded by thick forests and on the far side of the
field stood a small ancient cottage which Robert imagined himself to live in.
He was walking hand in hand with Erin towards the cottage, the sun shinning
down on the pair bathing them in warm light. There was a light breeze in the
air which whipped the grass about their ankles as they made their way to the
cottage. All was right in Happiness Valley and Robert could stay here with Erin
if it wasn’t for that annoying grunting noise. The noise Robert couldn’t quite
recognise but some how knew.
He was quickly snapped out of Happiness Valley by his phone
falling into his lap. The grunting had been the vibrations from his phone
against the desk. He fumbled for the phone and picked it up to see a message
from Erin.
Hey J
sorry I haven’t called you today, dentist took 4ever and now im feelin a bit
stuffy L
i’ll give you a call when im feeling
better, hope you’re ok? Xx
Robert smiled and quickly replied with a simple ‘ok’, ‘I’m
fine thanks’ and a ‘hope you get well soon’ finished by six or so kisses.
Robert smiled again as he re-read the text. He had been a bit worried as to why
she hadn’t called him and even worried that she didn’t want to see him again
but the text from her put him back into high spirits. But poor Erin to be so
ill. Then Robert had a thought on how to get firmly into Erin’s good books. He
searched up a local florists online and ordered a bouquet of Lilies and Roses
to be sent to her house the next day as he had missed the same day delivery
slot. He grinned as he clicked the confirm order button and in high hopes he
resumed with his work.
***
It had been three days since Robert had ordered the flowers
and he was on his way round to Erins’ house now. He was not happy with her or
the florists, with which one he was not sure as yet. Either the florists had
been lying and they hadn’t actually delivered the flowers to her or Erin had decided enough
was enough with Robert and was giving him the cold shoulder. Either way Robert
wanted answers and if it turned out to be an embarrassing time between him and
Erin, then so be it. Robert didn’t feel like he should be treated that way and
neither would he be. He pulled up to the curb outside Erin’s house and got out
of the car, taking in a deep breath of the cool air.
He zipped up his hoodie as he approached her door and
knocked three times when he reached it. No answer. H e knocked again, harder
this time. Still no answer. Robert peered through the frosted glass on Erin’s
front door and could see a faint light coming from what , must have been her
kitchen. He tried the bell a couple of times, looking for the movement of a
shadow in the kitchen that may give away her presence, but nothing moved. He waited.
There was a click of a door opening and emerged a rather
startled looking old lady from next door, who was taking her rubbish out for it
to be ready for early morning pick-up. She saw Robert standing on Erin’s top
step and almost jumped out of her skin at the sight of him.
“I’m sorry, do you know if Erin Whitley is in? Its just I’ve
been trying to talk to her for a few days but she hasn’t been answering my
calls. I’m Robert by the way, her boyfriend.” He hoped Erin wouldn’t mind introducing
himself that way, anything else would make Robert seem creepy and, to him, it
just seemed the right move.
“Oh, hello. Erm, I haven’t actually seen her since, oh when
was it, Tuesday? No no, it was Monday because it was a double bill of corrie.
Sorry about that. You could always try round the back, she may have fallen
asleep in her back room again, she won’t mind if you poke your head in, I’m sure
she’ll love to see you Richard.” She
waved a hand as if to beckon Robert to follow her and he did so, picking his
way through the old ladies house which was full of ornaments and nick-nacks precariously
perched on various awkwardly placed tables and shelves. As the stepped out into
the garden the old lady told Robert he could jump the fence where it got lower
down to waist height.
“You look like a strapping young man, capable of that.” She
had said to him.
“Why thank you Mrs....” Robert elongated the ‘s’ to show he
wanted an answer.
“Storrington, would you say hi to her if you see her, thank
you.” And with that Mrs. Storrington wandered back into her house, careless as
to what Robert did next.
Robert easily vaulted the fence and made his way to Erin’s
back door. Robert found it to be unlocked as he pulled down on the handle and
the door gently opened inwards to the small but tidy kitchen. Smell hit him
like a bus. Robert gagged at the smell and was even sick onto the back paving
slabs.
The smell was one of rot. It smelt as though a butchers had
been left unattended for over a month. It hung thick in the air like heat on a
breezeless day. It sent a shiver down Roberts spine and he could restrain the
constant gagging that had erupted due to the smell. He pulled the collar of his
t-shirt up over his mouth and nose which bore the runt of the stench. Robert
called out for Erin in fear. He knew the smell, he’d heard descriptions of this
sort of thing before on the T.V. but Robert didn’t want to believe it. He
walked through the kitchen and towards the front of the house where the stairs
were located. He turned round the corner of the wall which enclosed the stairs
at speed and brushed his head against something hard and cold. He recoiled and
looked up in horror. He had just head-butted the feet of a dead body, sending
it into a spin. However as the rope around the bodies neck twisted back round forcing
the face to be directed at Robert he cried out on horror, pain and misery all
in one.
Erin hung there by a rope attached to the top of the banisters,
neck lolling around loosely, her chin touching her chest. Her eyes were wide
and puffy and starred at Robert with such hostility that he was forced to turn
away and run in fear.
He burst back out into Erin’s garden and was violently sick
for five minutes on the moist grass. Tears streaming down his cheeks, the
imagine burnt in his brain. Her eyes had seemed to be screaming at him, as if
it was all his fault.
Finally, exhausted from dry-heaving Robert collapsed into
his own sick and with deep panting breaths called 999.
***
It was obviously suicide. But then why did they have to keep
Robert locked up like this?
The ambulance had arrived within 10 minutes but Erin had
been pronounced dead at the scene and from early forensic reports she had died
some time late night two days ago. She
got the flowers then killed herself. Robert kept thinking of that over and
over again, mixed into a continuous loop of why
am I here? Why did she do it? And what
did I do?
The police had arrived and Robert was told he would be
needed to answer some questions and had been placed in a cell to keep him on
his own, and Robert had suspected to prevent him from running away.
He was sat on the edge of his bed which was a lightly padded
mattress, the type you might find on a sun lounger. The room was painted white,
including the floors, and was no bigger than two of the cubicles at work. There
was a light hanging from the ceiling with a metal cage around it which, Robert
presumed was to keep people from getting at the glass. Above his bed there a
small window which was barred. The door to his cell stood tall and firm in
front of him, a thick slab of metal with a small window at head height for the
guards to look in and a small horizontal one below that which was for food to be
placed. Thinking about it, Robert now noticed that in his cell he couldn’t hear
any of the general office type sounds that he had heard when he arrived and
presumed that it was sound proofed.
Just then the viewing hatch slide open and a head peered in.
Two narrow slits for eyes stared at Robert, the owner peering in making sure he
wouldn’t be able to attack them when they entered the room. The hatch slide
back closed and there was the sound of a big heavy lock being unlocked and the
door was drawn open.
Stood in the door was Iablo. He was in the same clothes as
the last time Robert had seen him and he bore the same stretched smile that
sent a shiver down Robert’s spine. There was no sound other than Roberts
shallow breath. He couldn’t make head or tale of the situation with Erin and
now Iablo’s appearance perplexed him even further.
“Hello Robert. You know it took me three cells to find you,
you’re rather more difficult to find now that you don’t reek of desperation.”
Iablo walked into the cell and leant against the wall to the left of Robert as
if he had not said anything remotely strange at all.
“Iablo!” Robert couldn’t believe his luck and burst out with
the first question that came to mind, “Can you bring her back? Like you did
with me?” Robert bit his lip to hold back the tears, he couldn’t believe his
luck that he might get Erin back.
“Ah Robert, no I’m afraid I can’t.” Iablo had taken off his
coat and flung it on the bed beside Robert. He paced the room as he spoke, once
again giving the air that he owned the place. “She is beyond helping.”
Robert couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “Please,
you’ve got to! You did it with me, its worked, I’m happy! Why can’t you help
her?” The tears rolled down his cheeks and crept into his mouth. Robert could
taste the salt.
“Well Robert that’s just the thing.” Robert went to
interrupt him with a puzzled ‘what’ but Iablo cut him off before he could
muster anything more than a tearful squeek. It seemed to Robert that with
Iablo’s return he felt the same as he had before he met him. “Robert, let me
show you something.” He held out his hand and reluctantly Robert took it. The
cell instantly dissolved into nothingness and Robert now knew for certain that
Iablo was not of this world. A sea of blurred colours rushed past the pair and
for a second Robert felt Iablo’s hand burn red hot then the colours solidified
and Robert found himself back in Erin’s house. The warm homely air hugged at
Roberts body which had grown cold in the cell. He was standing on the bottom
step, directly under where her body should have been. A glint of hope gripped
his heart. Maybe Iablo had managed to do it after all.
Then he saw her walking towards the door and he couldn’t
contain the overwhelming excitement he felt. She looked troubled and was deep
in thought. Robert tried called out to her as she hadn’t seemed to notice him
there but no sound came. Iablo’s voice called to him from far away in his mind.
“I’m afraid there’s a bit of Dicken’s going on here Robert.
They’re only shadows of the past and all that.”
Robert watched as Erin opened the door and to his surprise
saw the flowers he had odered for her being passed into her arms. She thanked
the driver and closed the door. A smile had grown on her face. She read the
card which Robert knew to say; “I can’t
wait to see you again Erin. Give me a call. Robert xxx”. Her smile faded
and she walked angrily to the kitchen. Disheartened Robert rushed after her and
entered the kitchen just in time to see her stuffing the flowers into the bin,
petals falling off and floating to the floor.
Erin then collapsed, on the floor, tears streaming down her
face. Her body shaking on the floor.
Iablo’s voice came to Robert again. “This is your fault
Robert.” The kitchen and Erin crying on the floor dissolved and in their place
the spectacular array of colours that Robert had seen just after he left the
cell appeared. Iablo appeared standing in front of him smiling his unnatural
smile. They seemed to float through the colours their legs hanging weightlessly
beneath them. Despite himself Robert noticed that Iablo seemed at ease here as
he had done in the cell and at Roberts flat.
“Robert, Robert, Robert. What am I going to do with you eh?
You ask me to make you happy and I do. Then you cry about losing your little
girlfriend and ask more of me. You can’t have it both ways my boy.”
Roberts whole body shook with fear. Tears welled up in his
eyes again. “I want her, she’s the one that makes me happy.” He almost screamed
the words at Iablo.
“Of course she does,” the smile stretched even further over
Iablo’s face. “Robert, I think I over-estimated you, I was expecting you to
figure this out a long time ago. Don’t you remember what I said to you, how I
said I could make you happy?”
Robert thought back, it all seemed so long ago now, to
Robert it felt like a lifetime had passed in less then three weeks. “I- I can’t
remember.”
Iablo let out a shrill ‘ha-ha’. “Robert! I said I could give
you the spark! That glint in your eye that you value so much! That’s what
happiness is. Robert, how do you presume I was going to give you that
happiness? Just pluck it out of thin air?!” Iablo seemed to be calm but Robert
felt the anger in his voice.
“No.” He barely uttered the word, it drifting out between
his lips on nothing more than a soft breath of air. He lost all feeling in his
body and almost felt like he had left it.
“Finally he gets it!” Iablo drew a deep breath, preparing
himself for the great revelation he was about to release, clearly revelling in
the moment. “Robert, ever since my visit you’ve been taking other peoples
happiness! Everyone you’ve come in contact with has made you happier and them
so much sadder. Erin was just an unfortunate character. If you hadn’t made her
fall in love with you so quickly she would probably be alive right now. You
sapped the very last bit of happiness she held out of her just by making her
fall for you. Bastard.” Iablo let out a long, cruel laugh at the satisfaction
he got from revealing his master work to Robert.
Robert couldn’t bring himself to say or do anything. He was
aware of the tears on his face, the salty water trickling into his gaped mouth.
He was aware that he was responsible for Erin’s death although he couldn’t
quite believe it. Somewhere deep down he hoped it wasn’t real but knew even
deeper down that it was. “How?” Was all that Robert could manage to utter back.
His entire body distraught with the emotional pain he was now racked with.
“My goodness boy! You really are rather thick. I must admit
I am rather out of touch with the character judging, aren’t I? Lets look at it
this way.” Iablo raised his right hand and some of the colours turned black and
turned themselves into the Alphabet, capital and lower case letters similar to
the sheets used to teach children the Alphabet. “I am Mr. Derrick Iablo, am I
not?” Robert failed to respond so Iablo continued. “So let’s keep those letters
up there. The alphabet shortened and was left with only the letters that made
up Iablo’s name. They stood, big, bold and black against the colourful
background. “Right, to be honest the ‘Mr.’ is more of formality.” The letter
letters rearranged themselves to spell out Derrick Iablo. “You still not
getting this Bobby?” Iablo smiled at Robert, clearly enjoying his moment in the
spot light. “No? Okay. Let’s change the I from Iablo to a lower case...” The
letters changed. Still Robert was clueless. “And lets get rid of the errick
bit...”
Suddenly Robert saw it and, in a different situation would
have laughed at his own stupidity for not seeing it sooner. The remaining words
bunched together under Iablo’s will and Robert saw ‘Diablo’ written in big bold letters. He turned to face Iablo has
best as he could under the weightless conditions Robert found himself in. Iablo
gave him a wink, the same wink Erin had flashed him.
“Bingo Bobby boy. I am the notorious man himself. I normally
use the Spanish name for me, it seems a lot more...” he paused, “Exotic. You’ve
been a big help to me. You’ve fed me a lot of misery. And poor old Erin, she
was so depressed when she died. But don’t worry she’s been fitting right in
down under with me.”
Somehow deep down, Robert summoned the strength to fling his
body at Iablo but before he could even move nearer to him the colours stopped
and Roberts kitchen appeared around them. Iablo landed softly and causally
leant on the worktop. Robert however crashed heavily on the floor, dazing
Robert for a moment.
The sound of the kettle clicking brought Robert back to his
senses.
“And here we are again.”
Robert seemed like a cowering child. The sound of the
kettle, his flat it was just as it had been when he had met Ibalo for the first
time. He hugged the cupboard under the sink, trying to keep away from Ibalo.
“You’re right to fear me Robert.” Ibalo seemed serious for
the first time. “You know the secret, so the only help you can be is to die.
The misery you will draw from your parents will be lovely after you’re gone and
then I can use you forever down below.” He smirked and pointed a bony finger at
Robert.
Robert felt cold and dead inside. All the fear he had ever
known seemed to be pulled into the sea of emotions.
Roberts insides screamed but he grew weaker and weaker. His
vision began to swim, black clouds entering his peripherals, his main focus on
Iablo who grew more fierce by the
second.
Robert felt the heat rising from Iablo and smelt burning
hair as Iablo caught alight. A small flicker of flame at first but it quickly
erupted and took hold of Iablo. All the time he was smirking his stretched
smile at Robert.
Suddenly Robert was trapped in a burning inferno which took
hold of his kitchen and himself as the flames leaped from Iablo. Fire crackled
all around and Robert saw as his kitchen was turned to ash. He knew his own
body was burning and blistering but was not aware of the pain. His eyes were
fixed on Iablo who was now a ball of fire and Iablo’s smile which was now far
more natural than the stretched one he possessed before.
Robert was aware of the distant sirens blearing, coming
closer and closer. Robert was aware of the crackle the blaze had and Robert was
aware that his body and his flat were closer to ash than they were to actual
objects. Robert knew that he was dead to the world but would be in far more
pain when he was dead. Robert knew that he had signed his soul away to the
devil when he had asked him for help and he knew that Iablo was ready to
collect the debt.
The fire died and Robert was left lying on ashes with Iablo,
in his human form once again standing over him, placing a long bony hand on his
shoulder.
“Come along Robert. Its best time we leave, you don’t belong
here any more. You belong with me.”
And with that Robert left the world behind. The world in
which he had felt so much sadness, the world in which he had been given so much
joy at the expense of the one he loved. Robert left behind his parents and his
burnt out flat and the memory of Erin and he followed Iablo into the eternity
of torment.
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