Finding Alice Page 13

  It was time for him to go and Jane saw him to the door.

  “Visit us any time John,” she called after him.

  So there had been far more to Jane’s talk with John than a simple academic discussion about art and history. Alice had told Jane about the affair with John and Jane could see her daughter had been deeply affected by it. Jane wanted to get to know this man who had made such a big impact on her daughter’s life. She was using the discussion about artists and other important people in history to see who John admired and who he didn’t. She was trying to see the real John, rather than the persona he so effectively projected.

  She had seen something there briefly a couple of times, but when it came to revealing his true feelings John was very good at evasion. He was obviously extremely smart and highly aware, so why did he need to put up barriers around himself? Jane walked back into the house to think about it.

  While this had been going on in the cottage, Alice had been sitting on the edge of the wharf, with her feet dangling in the water. She was moving them back and fourth in a circular motion, but not really concentrating on them. She was lost in deep thought. How could she have found making love with John so deep and meaningful? How could she have felt she had made such a deep connection with such a hollow and dishonest man? This was not supposed to happen. What had started out as a fling had somehow turned into something else.

  She was always honest with Bill, but she knew John was totally dishonest with his wife. She hated dishonesty. That's why she had told John after they had made love the last time “That's your problem isn’t it?” because she knew he wouldn’t be able to tell his wife. He had to keep up an image, just like he had at his office that day by pretending she was a client, when it was obvious to everyone else, even the Italian restaurant owner, she was not. She had felt that John could never be an honest man, his ego was too big, he was too concerned with appearances, too concerned with making a big impression, too concerned with material possessions and money. That’s why she had dressed to the nines when she had gone to his office. She was showing him she could play his own game back at him. If only she knew how successful she had been.

  She had been at the point of dismissing the whole thing and going back to Bill. But the love making with John had been something she had never experienced before. It had seemed so deep and meaningful. Much deeper than with Bill, or any other man she had been with for that matter. However, she had come to the point where she had decided the deep and feelings and emotions, were all coming from her and not from John. He could never feel the way she did. He just wasn’t capable of it, was he?

  Then suddenly John had appeared on the wharf. She had just convinced herself it was all over and she was going back to Bill, when suddenly there he was. That’s why she had told him to fuck off. He could never be honest with himself, could he? He had come into her life and totally confused her. Just when she had got her emotions under control and rationalized the whole situation, suddenly there he was and they were out of control again. How could he do this to her?

  John had turned up at her parent’s cottage. By doing this he had penetrated her private sanctuary, the place where she had always felt safe and at peace with herself. The place where she came to when she wanted to get away from the world and reflect on life. But now there was no peace here either. Why had John come here? Was it just to torment her more? Her sanctuary and personal space had been violated. Rather than a place of peace and rest it had become a place of confusion and torment.

  She was not the only one who was confused.

  Talking to Jane had dulled John’s mental pain for a while. She was so calm and caring. Just like that moment with Alice on the Wilson’s balcony, which now seemed eons ago. But now he was driving away and suddenly, a whole lot of thoughts came rushing back at him.

  “Get out of my fucking life, do you hear me?” and “Give her time”. These two conflicting statements kept going round and round in his head. So much so, he wasn’t concentrating on the narrow gravel road. He came around a corner too fast and lost control. “Wham” the BMW slid sideways and side swiped a tree, finally coming to rest in a ditch on the side of the dirt road.

  He was in shock. Slowly he extracted himself from the car to survey the damage. His mind was in such a state he didn’t even care anymore. His car, that had once been his prized possession, was the furthest thing from his mind right now. Shit, the front light was smashed and there was a huge scrape all down the left hand side of the car. The engine had stopped into the bargain. Nothing to do about the damage, but would it start? Yes it would. He put the car into reverse. The wheels spun for a second then suddenly gripped. As they did the car shot backwards and he slammed on the brakes. But it was too late. He skidded straight into a tree on the other side of the track. This time he didn’t get out to look. He had also smashed in the back of the car with a big round dent the shape of the tree in the middle of the boot.

  Chapter 15 Welcome Home

  It was late afternoon as John pressed the button to open the gate as he turned into his driveway. It was all perfect in front of him as always, with the last streaks of sunlight stretching across it. Audry was watering the new lawn near the gum tree. She took one look at the car threw down the hose and ran towards him, screaming,

  “What the fuck have you been doing to my car, John?”

  There were two things unusual about this. Firstly Audry was using the “fuck” word. She was so prim and proper, John had never heard her say that before. Also she was referring to the BMW as her car. She had a Mazda in the garage that was HER car.

  She ran straight in front of the passenger side of the car, still screaming at him. He had to make an emergency stop to avoid hitting her. Then she was pulling at the passenger door, but it was all bashed in and wouldn’t open. Next she ran around the back of the car to get to the drivers side. He was just opening the door. She grabbed it and started screaming in his face.

  “Look at the car its filthy dirty the headlight is broken and its all banged down the passenger side and all across the back. Look at you; you have blood and shit all over you. Are you out of your mind? What the hell have you been doing?”

  The “shit” word was another he had never heard her use before. Thoughts were racing through his head. Two women screaming at him in the one day, well that's something that also hasn’t happened before.

  “Get fucked Audry.” Now that was something he had never said to her before.

  She was still in his face, screaming at him

  “What will the neighbours think?”

  “Fuck the neighbours.”

  John left the car where it was in the driveway with the door still open, pushed Audry out of the way and headed for the scotch cupboard in the lounge room. He flung it open. It was empty, Audry had hidden his scotch. She had followed him into the house and was standing at the entrance to the lounge room. He swung around,

  “If you don’t give my scotch right this second, I swear I’ll bash your fuckin head in.”

  He was too serious to argue with, especially after the previous night. Audry went to the kitchen took the scotch out of a cupboard and virtually threw it at him. He caught it before it hit the floor. He grabbed the bottle, ripped the stopper off it and started to swig, straight out of the bottle.

  “You disgusting alcoholic,” yelled Audry

  “What the hell are you doing, what am I married to?” She was both yelling at him and pleading at the same time.

  “That’s your problem isn’t it., isn’t it, isn’t it......?” John started to mumble incoherently as he took another big swig.

  “What on earth are you talking about John?”

  “Give her some time. Time is the answer......,” John’s thoughts were becoming confused. He took another big swig out of the bottle.

  “I think you’re going insane, John.” What the hell are you trying to do to me?”

  Audry was getting desperate. She had never seen her husband like this before. John ha
d always been totally in control. Everything always had to be perfect, the house, the car, everything. But today he had turned up with the car filthy and all bashed in and looking like something out of a horror movie. He had dirt and blood all over him and a torn shirt and dirty bandage around his arm, into the bargain. Now he was starting to talk nonsense, gibberish. She was angry, but now she was also becoming frightened. Her husband was obviously out of his tree.

  The bottle was nearly half empty already. John kept taking swigs out of it and muttering incoherently to himself:

  “She’s in wonderland, what are you doing here....?”

  There was no point trying to rationalize with John any more, or even try to understand what he was muttering about. Audry stormed out of the room, angry confused and frightened. She went up and sat on the bed in a totally confused state. What was happening to her? What was she going to do?

  John swayed around the lounge room bumping into the coffee table spilling some of his scotch as he almost totally lost his balance. A large vase of fresh flowers on the coffee table crashed to the floor spreading out everywhere. Another big swig and John stumbled through the front door, down the steps and out into the garden. The events of the day and now the scotch were starting to take full effect on him.

  He started to sway as he reached the grass near the gum tree.

  “Fuck this fuckin grass.” He used the heel of his shoe kicking backwards. The lawn was only new and hadn’t yet bonded properly. As he kicked the soil underneath released its tenuous grip and large chunks of turf started flying in all directions. He kept losing and regaining his balance, as he swayed around, continually swigging from the bottle then holding it up in the air as he lost his balance and then regained it. All the time he was kicking at the grass loosening more and more of it.

  “Stuff you gum tree.” He kicked at the base of it. His shoe fell off as he took a final swig out of the bottle. It was empty. He had drunk the whole bottle minus what he spilt, in something like five minutes. He threw it towards the house and it smashed on the front steps.

  Audry heard the smash and came running out to see the broken bottle on the steps and John staggering around in the garden. Seeing Audry he turned and staggered towards the front gate. He fumbled to open it then headed off down the street, still mumbling incoherently to himself. It was now late afternoon and starting to get dark. He was propping himself up on neighbours fences as he limped by them, with one shoe on and one off. At one point he almost staggered onto the road. A car going past gave him a big blast with its horn. Further down the street old nosy Mrs. Jean was watering her roses. He propped himself up on her fence and let out a big,

  “BOO.”

  She jumped back in fright and accidentally sprayed him.

  “You stupid old goat,“ he muttered and stumbled off into the approaching darkness.

  The scotch was taking full effect now. Everything was going around and around. He stumbled on losing all sense of conscious thought. Next everything was black. He had passed out.

  Chapter 16 Audry and George

  John opened his eyes. His head felt like it should belong to someone else. He could make out two pairs of legs from where he was lying on his side. He tried to focus and looked around him. They were two early morning joggers, busy talking as they jogged past and hadn't seen him. He was lying in a rose garden in the local park. He had blood, sweat and now dog shit all over him from the garden. The bandage Jane had put around his arm yesterday was filthy and had come loose and was hanging off him.

  He stumbled to his feet. It was just after 6 am and there was no one else around. He tried to tuck his shirt in and staggered back up the street towards the house, but it was hard walking with only one shoe. He reached his house and opened the gate. The glass where he had smashed the bottle had been tidied up but the turf he had kicked was still all over the place. He fumbled with the key, opened the front door and staggered into the kitchen.

  He lit the stove, pulled out a fry pan and attempted to cook some eggs. Next thing Audry was at the kitchen door.

  “This can’t go on. You are a disgrace John; you’re out of your tree. I’m going to ring my father.”

  “Stuff your father,” he mumbled and continued with his attempt to cook the eggs. When they were about half cooked he poured them onto a plate and headed into the lounge room and sat on the couch. He hadn’t brought a knife and fork with him so used his hands. Some of it was going into his mouth, some of it onto his clothes and the rest onto the couch and floor.

  Audry came in and screamed at him again,

  “You pig John, its all over my lounge and carpet,” she screamed. “You are out of your tree John. My father’s on his way.”

  “Putty putty poo, whaaaaaaat are you doing here? She’s from wonderland” He was talking incoherently again

  Soon the doorbell rang and Audry answered it. There was a hushed conversation and George entered the room.

  “How are you going Georgy Boy you stuffed up sanctimonious old bastard?” He’d been waiting for years to say that. Instead of reacting, George just sat there opposite him watching him without saying a word. This was good,

  “ Georgy porgy puddiney pie. What's wrong Georgy Boy, has the cheshire cat got your tongue?” If his head didn’t feel like it was about to explode, he might actually be enjoying this. But then his thoughts started to become tangled and he was mumbling incoherently again:

  “ The queen of hearts, she’s the queen of hearts......”

  George got up and left the room, he had just stared at John the whole time without saying a word.

  “Coward, not good enough for your daughter,” John yelled after him.

  There were more hushed tones in the kitchen. Then after a while the doorbell rang again. Audry answered it and still more hushed tones at the front door. Two burly policemen entered the lounge room, followed by another man carrying what looked like a doctors bag.

  “What's going on here?“ said the larger and older of the two policemen.

  “Get out of my house,” screamed John, lunging towards them and knocking the remainder of his eggs onto the floor.

  The policemen were too quick for him. In a flash they had him face down on the floor and handcuffed. The doctor stepped forward and administered a needle. John coughed and threw up some egg. He wriggled and tried to fight, but suddenly everything went black.

  Chapter 17 Dr Rush

  John woke with a startle. He was on his back and there was a white ceiling above him that he did not recognize. Where the hell was he. He tried to move his arms and legs but they were tied down. He lifted his head as much as he could and saw there were two large red straps across his body, one across his chest and another lower down.

  “Hello,” he called out. “Hello is anyone there?”

  A young girl appeared in a blue uniform and a nametag that read “Nurse Scott”.

  “You’re in Sunnydale Private Hospital Mr. Mason.”

  “How the hell did I get here?”

  “Just a minute Mr. Mason, I’ll get Dr Rush for you.”

  Out of the corner of his eye he could see her leave the room and knock on a door across the corridor.

  “He’s awake,” John heard Nurse Scott say.

  “OK,” came the reply, “I will be there shortly”

  John heard footsteps coming towards him echoing on the lino floor. They stopped when they reached his bed. He looked up.

  She was about 28 years old and would probably look quite pretty, if she loosened up her hair a bit and took off those awful glasses that made her look like a librarian.

  “Good morning I’m Dr Rush. You’ve been asleep for quite a while, we were wondering if you were ever going to wake up.”

  “What do you mean,” demanded John. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Oh, about 24 hours I would say,” replied Dr Rush

  24 hours, thought John. The last thing he could remember was being in the lounge room with a splitting headache and two burly po
licemen holding him down and handcuffing him. But his headache was gone. It made sense. Not a bad way to get rid of a hangover he thought, apart from the policemen that is.

  “What is your name?”

  “John.”

  “And your last name?”

  “Mason, what is all this about?”

  “I’m just checking to see that you are with us.”

  “I’m fine,” said John, “but I want these straps off me. Do you think I am some sort of a criminal?”