Sorry for the delay with this post.
There was nothing to hold onto; he groped for something but couldn’t know what. Like a desperate itch that he couldn’t locate it goaded him until he got up out of bed and into the darkness that failed to signal morning at this time of year. The purpose with which he’d taken the loss of his job had not left him as he’d feared, instead it nagged fiercely at him like acute pins and needles. He was unaccustomed to this hopeless, directionless energy. He found it cold out of bed and put a hoodie on over his pyjamas. The pyjamas themselves being on in honour of being in his sisters home. He heard Janey get up and go into the bathroom while he ferreted around for socks and decided he’d see what she had in stock for breakfast before she got downstairs. He found what he had hoped; eggs, a packet of bacon, admittedly in the freezer but he’d manage, beans, tomatoes and an unopened packet of mushrooms. She must have recently shopped, a bad move on her part now that he’d taken up residence. He started the coffee maker and by the time she emerged in her disconcertingly smart office wear he was well on his way to starting the eggs. He presented her with coffee and only then recalled her mood first thing.
“What are you doing?” She muttered.
“Making breakfast.”
“Using a weeks food supply?”
“I’ll buy some more.”
“You don’t have a job.”
“I think I’ll manage to cover a few eggs.”
She raised her eyes to him and smiled.
“Smells good.” He dished it up and put both plates on the table. She began eating but he didn’t sit. He hovered around the kitchen putting saucepans to soak, removing the grill pan from the oven for the same treatment.
“Do that after. It’ll be cold.”
“Yeah.” He sat down and pushed a mushroom into the beans jiggling his foot.
“Restless today are we?” Asked Janey. That was the word for it he thought; restless.
“Hmm.” He cut up some bacon and chewed it quickly.
“I know I want to do something I just don’t know what.” He told her.
“Okay. Make a list.”
“Maybe.”
“Seriously. It’ll help. What do you want to do? Why do you want to do it? Put everything on there.” He went on eating quietly thinking about what he would write if faced with a blank sheet of paper. No, he’d write it on his iphone much less accusatory than paper and already full of so much text. The sky had become a filthy grey outside although without the lights on in the small kitchen it’d be just as dark.
“I’ve got to go. Thanks for breakfast.” She moved her plate to the sink and he waved his hand to acknowledge that he’d wash up.
“Thanks. We’ll look over that list for some sensible ideas this evening.” She said as she left. He heard her moving about for another five minutes gathering herself together, cleaning her teeth before the front door banged shut.
“Sensible ideas.” The phrase echoed with him as he showered and dressed. Did that mean dull ideas? Like working for one of the other big financial companies here. He resolved to write an outlandish list. He found himself relishing the idea and he felt that this list needed more ceremony than a page of iphone notes. He made more coffee and washed up the breakfast dishes before he began to look for paper. There wasn’t anywhere in the livingroom for paper to exist; a shelf housed the flatscreen TV and a bookshelf took up one wall apart from the sofa and empty coffee table that was all the furniture in there. He mooched back towards his bedroom but instead pushed the door opposite open. His sisters bedroom was just as sparse; double bed with the ratty old white throw he recognised from his Mum’s house when they’d been growing up, a pretty small wardrobe for a girl and a dressing table with the slightest clutter of girl type pots and bottles. There was a ceramic pot of greens and beiges containing pens and pencils which he took as a good sign. He crossed towards it and from this angle spied a low shelf unit stacked with notebooks and folders. A pad of A4 sat on top and he snatched it up lingering by the dressing table to select a pen for his task. He saw it and tried to pretend he hadn’t but even as his brain told him to take a pen, any pen and get out his body was sinking down onto the high backed chair. He reached out beyond the settlement of bottles and picked up the small silver frame knocking a larger one containing a photo of an old family holiday. His hands felt a little shaky but held steady as he studied the picture of his sister and Isobel. It was taken before he had met her when they had been in their first year at University. They were laughing, dressed up for a party but just by being there, at University, they radiated this expectation for the future but there wasn’t any for Isobel. She was only the past now.
“What are you doing?” She muttered.
“Making breakfast.”
“Using a weeks food supply?”
“I’ll buy some more.”
“You don’t have a job.”
“I think I’ll manage to cover a few eggs.”
She raised her eyes to him and smiled.
“Smells good.” He dished it up and put both plates on the table. She began eating but he didn’t sit. He hovered around the kitchen putting saucepans to soak, removing the grill pan from the oven for the same treatment.
“Do that after. It’ll be cold.”
“Yeah.” He sat down and pushed a mushroom into the beans jiggling his foot.
“Restless today are we?” Asked Janey. That was the word for it he thought; restless.
“Hmm.” He cut up some bacon and chewed it quickly.
“I know I want to do something I just don’t know what.” He told her.
“Okay. Make a list.”
“Maybe.”
“Seriously. It’ll help. What do you want to do? Why do you want to do it? Put everything on there.” He went on eating quietly thinking about what he would write if faced with a blank sheet of paper. No, he’d write it on his iphone much less accusatory than paper and already full of so much text. The sky had become a filthy grey outside although without the lights on in the small kitchen it’d be just as dark.
“I’ve got to go. Thanks for breakfast.” She moved her plate to the sink and he waved his hand to acknowledge that he’d wash up.
“Thanks. We’ll look over that list for some sensible ideas this evening.” She said as she left. He heard her moving about for another five minutes gathering herself together, cleaning her teeth before the front door banged shut.
“Sensible ideas.” The phrase echoed with him as he showered and dressed. Did that mean dull ideas? Like working for one of the other big financial companies here. He resolved to write an outlandish list. He found himself relishing the idea and he felt that this list needed more ceremony than a page of iphone notes. He made more coffee and washed up the breakfast dishes before he began to look for paper. There wasn’t anywhere in the livingroom for paper to exist; a shelf housed the flatscreen TV and a bookshelf took up one wall apart from the sofa and empty coffee table that was all the furniture in there. He mooched back towards his bedroom but instead pushed the door opposite open. His sisters bedroom was just as sparse; double bed with the ratty old white throw he recognised from his Mum’s house when they’d been growing up, a pretty small wardrobe for a girl and a dressing table with the slightest clutter of girl type pots and bottles. There was a ceramic pot of greens and beiges containing pens and pencils which he took as a good sign. He crossed towards it and from this angle spied a low shelf unit stacked with notebooks and folders. A pad of A4 sat on top and he snatched it up lingering by the dressing table to select a pen for his task. He saw it and tried to pretend he hadn’t but even as his brain told him to take a pen, any pen and get out his body was sinking down onto the high backed chair. He reached out beyond the settlement of bottles and picked up the small silver frame knocking a larger one containing a photo of an old family holiday. His hands felt a little shaky but held steady as he studied the picture of his sister and Isobel. It was taken before he had met her when they had been in their first year at University. They were laughing, dressed up for a party but just by being there, at University, they radiated this expectation for the future but there wasn’t any for Isobel. She was only the past now.
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