Invisibles by Ed Siegle

Author:Ed Siegle [Ed Siegle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780956792617
Publisher: Myriad Editions
Published: 2011-11-06T16:00:00+00:00

Jackie turned off the video, made a cup of tea and smoked a cigarette. She had a bit of a headache so she fetched a wet flannel and lay back with it over her eyes. It wasn’t quite the same as when Joel did it for her, but it still felt soothing. Get me, she thought. Dredging up the past, running fingers over my scars.

‘Scars are your stars,’ Miriam always said. ‘Make sure you steer by them.’

She wondered what Tony was doing. Probably in the garden, she thought. I bet he always gardens when there’s something on his mind. In her dreams she’d be running to Tony, not lying here with a wet flannel on her face. How dull it was to consider consequences. She was tempted to throw off the flannel, run upstairs, pick that red dress up off the floor, shake it down, peel off her jeans, slip smaller underwear up her legs, put on a lacier, cuppier bra and wriggle her arse into that blasted frock. She imagined hooking a pair of heels from the wardrobe, fastening their tiny clasps – then wishing she’d done so at the bottom of the stairs, as she half twisted an ankle on the descent. She’d do her lipstick in the hall mirror. She’d look good, though she’d feel less than comfortable – it never did to rush the donning of impractical garments. She would ride across town in a cab and they’d scream at each other and end up screwing the dregs out of their conflict.

But she didn’t rush upstairs. She remained on the sofa enjoying the flannel even though it was hardly cool any more. She groped on the table for her cigarettes and lit one. She smoked it then climbed the stairs. In the bathroom she ran the taps and washed her face with soap and cold water. My face looks old, she thought, too old to be playing games. If Tony didn’t call soon, she pledged to brush her hair and put on her tatty coat, to go and tell him everything – apologising for the twists and turns. Perhaps this was the start of something, she thought, not the end.

‘Perhaps it’s just the start,’ she said to the mirror.

She sat in the lounge with the TV off. She looked at the phone but she couldn’t pick it up. If she called and he said it was over, then… it would be over. She dreaded bringing on that moment. Joel was in Brazil and perhaps he wouldn’t come back and then she’d have lost him too and what would she have? She’d always imagined life would be perfect one day. She was running out of days.

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