Distant Karma
So you see, he couldn’t really have understood why we were so shocked. Alan and I haven’t had the chance to talk to him since; - about what he said to us the other night over dinner.
Even though I’ve been in this game a long time it’s still left us both feeling very cold. However, I as much as anyone should know that these things happen for a reason, even if we can’t always see it. Some call it fate, I call it faith; a faith in just believing that doing good will lead to a good outcome and bad will lead to the opposite.
It all started back in the eighties, the part of my life I consider that really matters. I’ve been trying to help people for the thirty odd years that have passed since simply because I said ‘okay’ to that first offer. It’s funny how things work out, I certainly never did any of it for the money!
It was Auntie Helen that got the ball rolling when she persuaded me to help out in a soup kitchen in Bradford during the late seventies. I found it fulfilling, - being of some comfort to the less fortunate. I kind of realised I was helping them just by talking, it didn’t matter who they were. So, I took the courses, did all the voluntary work; you know the stuff, charity shops, helping the old folk of the village, listening to their stories etc. That was what really that got me the job in Leeds, helping out with Victim support, and actually getting paid for it! My life certainly took on a different shape from then onwards, and it all stemmed from that day in the spring of 1981, the day I first met Alan.
He just wandered in to the victim support centre quite churlishly as if he’d been sent and I should deal with him. He has never actually admitted that to me in all these years, but he arrived it seemed with a sense of formality, as if someone had said to him
‘You better go and see victim support, they’ll sort you out.’ So there I was, ready to listen. When he talked he felt at ease and we hit it off right away. He really opened up and let me know how sad and angry and insecure he was really feeling even though his parents were on their way. Being just a few years older than him really helped, if I’d been seventeen or something at the time it would all just never have happened.
He told me of the events of that day. He hadn’t passed his driving test but he did own a car, well, sort of a car; - one of those three-wheeler Reliant Robin things that were about everywhere back then. It was his pride and joy but he’d had to leave it in the high street and when it was time to go back to it things were hotting up and the police wouldn’t let him through. Maybe that was just as well, I hate to think what might have happened to him if he’d got there and tried to put up some resistance. The riots that summer were a tame thing compared to recent times where God knows, people have actually lost lives! Back in 1981 in Leeds city centre discovering your pride and joy rolled over and smashed up in the aftermath of a riot would have been very distressing for any teenager. This was made worse for Alan because of the reason he was there in the first place: A cousin he’d not seen for years had apparently run away to the city, Alan had offered to go and look for him with a friend and with very little else to go on. Well, the friend got frightened and caught the bus home before it all kicked off, Alan was left alone and before his parents could come to bale him out late the next day, he’d met me!
I must say the experience did mess him up a bit; - not the meeting me you understand, but the loss of his vehicle. He found it hard to come to terms with. I know people will say it was only a car but human nature tends to pass off crimes we hear about happening to others with superficial sympathy, when it actually happens to you it always hits hard.
So that was my first real counselling job, and I’ve never really looked back. Therapeutic Counselling has been what I’ve done in one form or another ever since. It’s over thirty years now since Alan and I first met, we’ve been happily married for twenty seven of them.
So, you see, I’ve met many people, had many clients, heard many stories from all over the north of England, but since that day nothing had made quite the same impression; . . nothing, that was, until Darrell Granby walked into my surgery three months ago.
Darrell was from Manchester. A likeable chap of around fifty but he’d suffered the ultimate loss; his wife of over twenty years had passed away and he had no one that could really understand how he was feeling. I would listen to him and once he started to tell his story I could feel his suffering:
“She was a good to me was Carol, always kept me on the straight and narrow” I remember him saying, “If only we hadn’t gone out into town that night perhaps it would have been different, but then again, maybe it would have just prolonged the inevitable, or, we wouldn’t ever have found out?” I remember him pondering heavily over this point and I had intended to use it as the very essence of a starting point by which to counsel him. They’d been caught up in the riots in Manchester last summer, 2011, only peripherally, but his wife Carol’s reaction to it all was catastrophic. Although not really hurt she had gone into some sort of traumatic state that lasted for days. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he recalled the events. It was sad to hear;
“I don’t know when it took hold, I just know she weren’t ever the same after that night in August. Just a few weeks later the Doctor suggested the tests. . .” – he found this conundrum the hardest to deal with . . . “and that very thing just made her condition worse . . if she hadn’t gone for tests maybe she’d have recovered!” He always felt the knowledge of her condition hade made it worse. The truth is she had a brain tumour, - a large one, and it wasn’t so much a matter of if, more just a matter of when it would take hold. She went downhill very quickly, she didn’t even make it through the winter!
So you see, Darrell was a man in pitiful state, but there was hope. Shining through his deep sorrow came a genuine sense of regret, a sense of feeling that he perhaps hadn’t always gone about things the right way. I knew I could work with him, I listened and he responded, but I was not to get the chance!
It was one day when Alan came to pick me up early and we were still in session that things really took a different turn. On the way out the two met face to face, they started chatting away is they’d known each other for years and in the space of thirty seconds they’d hit it off! They both seemed to have so much in common. They’d both supported Leeds united as boys but had later defected to the Reds of Manchester, they discovered they were of similar age and both got married within a couple of months of each other. It really was incredible to see my ‘patient’ suddenly and unwittingly being whisked away by my husband! That’s how it seemed that evening, and of course, he couldn’t now continue being my client - that first session had to be the last, I couldn’t allow personal involvement.
Things moved on and Darrell quickly became our friend. All he really needed was friends he could talk to about life in general. All this makes the other night even harder for us!
So, the two men had chemistry and it seemed good. One evening when he came round to ours I just listened in, hardly needing to join the conversation. The two guys were going deep and they didn’t need my input. I suppose it was inevitable really; Alan drew comparison between their marriages, he paid me glowing tributes and considered he’d just been luckier than Darrell. Darrell for his part sort of understood that things in his life were bad right now but it was all kind of okay. Every now and then he’d give some account of past events and paint them in a different light followed by his justification such as “I should have spent the money on something better but you know what it’s like when you’ve just been paid” or “Yeah, silly really, - shouldn’t have done it but we were young back then.” Darrell, for all his sadness could still look back on things a little frivolously at times and often it seemed with little sense of guilt.
Alan only ever mentioned his cousin because of the connection of time and place. From some of his earlier accounts it seems that Darrell lived in Leeds at around the same time that Alan’s cousin had supposedly run away to the city. This cousin Alan had only ever met once as a very small child, the cousin he was looking for that day back in 1981 and had only ever known as Daz. I know Alan never knew the surname of his mother’s sister’s first husband, there was some big family fall out and his mother had deliberately kept certain facts from them. But the two were connecting that night at our house, and as the conversation went deeper, something from the past was drawing them closer!
So I suppose it was inevitable really that night at dinner, I should have seen it coming really. Almost nothing in life is a complete accident. Ultimately we are all responsible for our actions and if there is a price to pay, we have to pay it. I guess that has played out for Darrell Granby over the years; - it’s just still hard to get one’s head round!
We were talking of times past, good and bad, what we did, what we liked and what we didn’t etc. and it’s just one of those odd things that occurred; - Alan and I had never actually told him how we’d met! - so you see he couldn’t have really understood.
“ Those were good days the eighties” that was how he began. “I was a bit of a lad in them days, living in Leeds.” (this much we’d known, but we hadn’t made any meaningful connection!) “I remember one spring evening, I know I shouldn’t have done this but, what the hell, it was all a bit of a laugh.” (at this point we started to feel a little uneasy.) “Everyone was rioting right?- you couldn’t get done for it, the police weren’t in control. I remember we were in the high street and there was this tiny little Red Reliant Robin three wheeler just sitting there.” Alan’s jaw dropped as Darrell continued grinning oblivious to the growing unease forming around him “ . . So we rolled it . . it smashed up pretty good . .”
So you see, he couldn’t really have understood why we were so shocked. Alan and I haven’t had the chance to talk to him since; - about what he said to us the other night over dinner.
So you see, he couldn’t really have understood why we were so shocked. Alan and I haven’t had the chance to talk to him since; - about what he said to us the other night over dinner.
Even though I’ve been in this game a long time it’s still left us both feeling very cold. However, I as much as anyone should know that these things happen for a reason, even if we can’t always see it. Some call it fate, I call it faith; a faith in just believing that doing good will lead to a good outcome and bad will lead to the opposite.
It all started back in the eighties, the part of my life I consider that really matters. I’ve been trying to help people for the thirty odd years that have passed since simply because I said ‘okay’ to that first offer. It’s funny how things work out, I certainly never did any of it for the money!
It was Auntie Helen that got the ball rolling when she persuaded me to help out in a soup kitchen in Bradford during the late seventies. I found it fulfilling, - being of some comfort to the less fortunate. I kind of realised I was helping them just by talking, it didn’t matter who they were. So, I took the courses, did all the voluntary work; you know the stuff, charity shops, helping the old folk of the village, listening to their stories etc. That was what really that got me the job in Leeds, helping out with Victim support, and actually getting paid for it! My life certainly took on a different shape from then onwards, and it all stemmed from that day in the spring of 1981, the day I first met Alan.
He just wandered in to the victim support centre quite churlishly as if he’d been sent and I should deal with him. He has never actually admitted that to me in all these years, but he arrived it seemed with a sense of formality, as if someone had said to him
‘You better go and see victim support, they’ll sort you out.’ So there I was, ready to listen. When he talked he felt at ease and we hit it off right away. He really opened up and let me know how sad and angry and insecure he was really feeling even though his parents were on their way. Being just a few years older than him really helped, if I’d been seventeen or something at the time it would all just never have happened.
He told me of the events of that day. He hadn’t passed his driving test but he did own a car, well, sort of a car; - one of those three-wheeler Reliant Robin things that were about everywhere back then. It was his pride and joy but he’d had to leave it in the high street and when it was time to go back to it things were hotting up and the police wouldn’t let him through. Maybe that was just as well, I hate to think what might have happened to him if he’d got there and tried to put up some resistance. The riots that summer were a tame thing compared to recent times where God knows, people have actually lost lives! Back in 1981 in Leeds city centre discovering your pride and joy rolled over and smashed up in the aftermath of a riot would have been very distressing for any teenager. This was made worse for Alan because of the reason he was there in the first place: A cousin he’d not seen for years had apparently run away to the city, Alan had offered to go and look for him with a friend and with very little else to go on. Well, the friend got frightened and caught the bus home before it all kicked off, Alan was left alone and before his parents could come to bale him out late the next day, he’d met me!
I must say the experience did mess him up a bit; - not the meeting me you understand, but the loss of his vehicle. He found it hard to come to terms with. I know people will say it was only a car but human nature tends to pass off crimes we hear about happening to others with superficial sympathy, when it actually happens to you it always hits hard.
So that was my first real counselling job, and I’ve never really looked back. Therapeutic Counselling has been what I’ve done in one form or another ever since. It’s over thirty years now since Alan and I first met, we’ve been happily married for twenty seven of them.
So, you see, I’ve met many people, had many clients, heard many stories from all over the north of England, but since that day nothing had made quite the same impression; . . nothing, that was, until Darrell Granby walked into my surgery three months ago.
Darrell was from Manchester. A likeable chap of around fifty but he’d suffered the ultimate loss; his wife of over twenty years had passed away and he had no one that could really understand how he was feeling. I would listen to him and once he started to tell his story I could feel his suffering:
“She was a good to me was Carol, always kept me on the straight and narrow” I remember him saying, “If only we hadn’t gone out into town that night perhaps it would have been different, but then again, maybe it would have just prolonged the inevitable, or, we wouldn’t ever have found out?” I remember him pondering heavily over this point and I had intended to use it as the very essence of a starting point by which to counsel him. They’d been caught up in the riots in Manchester last summer, 2011, only peripherally, but his wife Carol’s reaction to it all was catastrophic. Although not really hurt she had gone into some sort of traumatic state that lasted for days. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he recalled the events. It was sad to hear;
“I don’t know when it took hold, I just know she weren’t ever the same after that night in August. Just a few weeks later the Doctor suggested the tests. . .” – he found this conundrum the hardest to deal with . . . “and that very thing just made her condition worse . . if she hadn’t gone for tests maybe she’d have recovered!” He always felt the knowledge of her condition hade made it worse. The truth is she had a brain tumour, - a large one, and it wasn’t so much a matter of if, more just a matter of when it would take hold. She went downhill very quickly, she didn’t even make it through the winter!
So you see, Darrell was a man in pitiful state, but there was hope. Shining through his deep sorrow came a genuine sense of regret, a sense of feeling that he perhaps hadn’t always gone about things the right way. I knew I could work with him, I listened and he responded, but I was not to get the chance!
It was one day when Alan came to pick me up early and we were still in session that things really took a different turn. On the way out the two met face to face, they started chatting away is they’d known each other for years and in the space of thirty seconds they’d hit it off! They both seemed to have so much in common. They’d both supported Leeds united as boys but had later defected to the Reds of Manchester, they discovered they were of similar age and both got married within a couple of months of each other. It really was incredible to see my ‘patient’ suddenly and unwittingly being whisked away by my husband! That’s how it seemed that evening, and of course, he couldn’t now continue being my client - that first session had to be the last, I couldn’t allow personal involvement.
Things moved on and Darrell quickly became our friend. All he really needed was friends he could talk to about life in general. All this makes the other night even harder for us!
So, the two men had chemistry and it seemed good. One evening when he came round to ours I just listened in, hardly needing to join the conversation. The two guys were going deep and they didn’t need my input. I suppose it was inevitable really; Alan drew comparison between their marriages, he paid me glowing tributes and considered he’d just been luckier than Darrell. Darrell for his part sort of understood that things in his life were bad right now but it was all kind of okay. Every now and then he’d give some account of past events and paint them in a different light followed by his justification such as “I should have spent the money on something better but you know what it’s like when you’ve just been paid” or “Yeah, silly really, - shouldn’t have done it but we were young back then.” Darrell, for all his sadness could still look back on things a little frivolously at times and often it seemed with little sense of guilt.
Alan only ever mentioned his cousin because of the connection of time and place. From some of his earlier accounts it seems that Darrell lived in Leeds at around the same time that Alan’s cousin had supposedly run away to the city. This cousin Alan had only ever met once as a very small child, the cousin he was looking for that day back in 1981 and had only ever known as Daz. I know Alan never knew the surname of his mother’s sister’s first husband, there was some big family fall out and his mother had deliberately kept certain facts from them. But the two were connecting that night at our house, and as the conversation went deeper, something from the past was drawing them closer!
So I suppose it was inevitable really that night at dinner, I should have seen it coming really. Almost nothing in life is a complete accident. Ultimately we are all responsible for our actions and if there is a price to pay, we have to pay it. I guess that has played out for Darrell Granby over the years; - it’s just still hard to get one’s head round!
We were talking of times past, good and bad, what we did, what we liked and what we didn’t etc. and it’s just one of those odd things that occurred; - Alan and I had never actually told him how we’d met! - so you see he couldn’t have really understood.
“ Those were good days the eighties” that was how he began. “I was a bit of a lad in them days, living in Leeds.” (this much we’d known, but we hadn’t made any meaningful connection!) “I remember one spring evening, I know I shouldn’t have done this but, what the hell, it was all a bit of a laugh.” (at this point we started to feel a little uneasy.) “Everyone was rioting right?- you couldn’t get done for it, the police weren’t in control. I remember we were in the high street and there was this tiny little Red Reliant Robin three wheeler just sitting there.” Alan’s jaw dropped as Darrell continued grinning oblivious to the growing unease forming around him “ . . So we rolled it . . it smashed up pretty good . .”
So you see, he couldn’t really have understood why we were so shocked. Alan and I haven’t had the chance to talk to him since; - about what he said to us the other night over dinner.
A Matter of Life or Death
He heard the phone ring. He was glad that she was getting it, Saturday morning belonged to him, no time for any last minute changes to arrangements now, unless of course it was one of the team! But surely they’d text his mobile! His other half was already on to it and he could now hear quite clearly that something quite joyous had happened. She was happy about something, - no, ecstatic he thought. Now, she was coming to tell him about whatever it was that was so wonderful.
“Well I thought you’d be a bit more excited about it than that! ” There was a tone of annoyance in her voice. “It’s their first baby . . remember what it’s like, remember that special feeling you get?” . . He didn’t remember.
Breakfast was swift, conversation was sparse.
“Important today” he began “If we win this . . “ he continued but she wasn’t really listening.
Hopefully they’d all arrive on time, Jack has been late for training for the last two weeks, Alex nearly missed kick off last week; - can’t have that today. This was important, If they didn’t at least get a draw then they would most probably slip two places, their rivals, Rovers, were sure to win and that scenario would put them in the bottom half!
“I might pop down later to see little Callum” she called as he bundled their two sons into the car along with the usual collection of footballs, cones and bibs. He did reply but she wondered if he was really listening.
“Damn’ he thought as he turned on to the main road, “I’ve forgotten the spare tracksuit tops.”
It was a good two and a half hours later that he drove back down the same stretch, full of jubilance, - job done, at least a first result of the day was in the bag. The two boys sat obediently in the back listening to their Father’s rantings, - nothing was ever completely right for him with any game of football, even when they had won!
So, now the adult team this afternoon just needed three points to be sure of promotion. He had to be there for this one.
Why couldn’t she understand? This was the most important game of the season, not last week’s win over second bottom that he had apparently said was equally important! – what he’d meant was that this weeks game wouldn’t have the same significance if they hadn’t won last week. This was the big one and he wasn’t going to miss it, why couldn’t she understand that? Anyway, the boys could come with him, why wouldn’t they want to? it’s football and they both love it.
The family didn’t talk much over tea. Frankly he was a little upset by the lack of interest shown by any of them in what had for him been a landmark day. Both results had gone the right way and disaster had been averted. He liked to think he was partly responsible for both results, after all, he helped out with both teams and they listened to him. He certainly knew his stuff; - sometimes he wondered if anyone really appreciated this.
“Little Callum is a beauty, just like his mum.” She said as the two sat on the sofa late that Saturday evening.
“Huh, oh, good.” He fumbled with the remote control scrambling through the index until he found the channel playing that familiar signature tune.
“It was a long labour though, mother and baby both very tired. He is a little bit yellow and jaundiced.”
Her husband’s attention was focused on the football highlights being beamed to the nation.
“We scored one like that today, Billy Downs from outside the area . .brilliant.” She stared at him with some contempt, he hadn’t taken in any of what she’d said.
“Landmark day today, even a draw would have made it almost impossible to survive, both games we had to win, and we did.”
“You know, you take it so seriously, there’s more to life than bloody football. The way you go on anyone would think it’s a matter of life or death!”
He heard the phone ring. He was glad that she was getting it, Sunday morning belonged to him, it would need something momentous to cause a change of plan. It was Harry’s game today, they usually all went but now apparently she needed to go visiting again!
“Do you have to go this morning? We’ve got to be at football in an hour.” This was most inconvenient, this was his one slot in the week when he could take a step back and just enjoy watching the game. He had nothing to do with his other son’s team and after a stressful Saturday he needed to just relax and enjoy this one. Now all of a sudden he has to take her to the hospital first!
“Sue just wants me there this morning, she sounds very low, . it’s sometimes quite normal after a birth. You can drop me on the way, I’ll find my own way back.”
“That’s three out of three gone our way boys.” It was some time later when they swaggered back to the car. This was sweet. This was the weekend they were going to look back on at the end of the season with defining memories.
“All we need now is for City to win the Derby this afternoon and my weekend is complete! Come on, let’s get home and tell mum how well you’ve done and get the TV on.”
His mobile rang, it was his other half. Apparently she wasn’t going to be back for a while, she couldn’t leave things how they were right now. Actually she sounded a little upset but he wasn’t able to talk for long as the football had started. She’d let him know when she needed picking up! – he’d told her she might have to wait now if it was during the next hour and a half.
City won. All was good. The boys were happy because they supported City because he supported City, but, something was missing! she hadn’t been there and he felt she should have been. He liked the jubilant celebrations to be with the whole family and yet something seemed to have come up that had kept her away! What was it now? she couldn’t leave things as they were! – so, suppose she’s still at the hospital and, . . no signal! He’d tried texting her the result, then a message to ask when she was coming home and did she need picking up? Then another text to check that things were alright;- no reply. - So he rang; - no reply.
Time moved on. It was late evening now and his weekend of momentous importance had been flattened by the lack of his wife’s presence. Where was she? The boys were worried too. The front door handle turned and she walked slowly in, her ashen faced told him that something of momentous importance must have happened to flatten her weekend.
“It was just so, so awful . . .poor Sue and Barry. How will they ever get over this?” Her voice wavered as she sat with her eyes of a wet glaze staring into emptiness. He couldn’t answer her.
“There was just nothing they could do for him poor little soul . . nothing at all. They said it was complete Liver failure and that his little body just wasn’t strong enough. it was like . .” she struggled through the tears of sadness to finish the sentence; “. . It was like, . . just one minute there was life, then the next minute – death!”
He still couldn’t answer, but he did hold her close, he was now trying to be of some comfort. All was silent for a minute or two, then she spoke;
“It’s just been a truly awful weekend, It started so wonderfully with life, and now, it has ended so sadly.” She contemplated, trying to come to terms with the tragic experience of her weekend.
As the two of them sat together in silence, he thought about his weekend too!
He heard the phone ring. He was glad that she was getting it, Saturday morning belonged to him, no time for any last minute changes to arrangements now, unless of course it was one of the team! But surely they’d text his mobile! His other half was already on to it and he could now hear quite clearly that something quite joyous had happened. She was happy about something, - no, ecstatic he thought. Now, she was coming to tell him about whatever it was that was so wonderful.
“Well I thought you’d be a bit more excited about it than that! ” There was a tone of annoyance in her voice. “It’s their first baby . . remember what it’s like, remember that special feeling you get?” . . He didn’t remember.
Breakfast was swift, conversation was sparse.
“Important today” he began “If we win this . . “ he continued but she wasn’t really listening.
Hopefully they’d all arrive on time, Jack has been late for training for the last two weeks, Alex nearly missed kick off last week; - can’t have that today. This was important, If they didn’t at least get a draw then they would most probably slip two places, their rivals, Rovers, were sure to win and that scenario would put them in the bottom half!
“I might pop down later to see little Callum” she called as he bundled their two sons into the car along with the usual collection of footballs, cones and bibs. He did reply but she wondered if he was really listening.
“Damn’ he thought as he turned on to the main road, “I’ve forgotten the spare tracksuit tops.”
It was a good two and a half hours later that he drove back down the same stretch, full of jubilance, - job done, at least a first result of the day was in the bag. The two boys sat obediently in the back listening to their Father’s rantings, - nothing was ever completely right for him with any game of football, even when they had won!
So, now the adult team this afternoon just needed three points to be sure of promotion. He had to be there for this one.
Why couldn’t she understand? This was the most important game of the season, not last week’s win over second bottom that he had apparently said was equally important! – what he’d meant was that this weeks game wouldn’t have the same significance if they hadn’t won last week. This was the big one and he wasn’t going to miss it, why couldn’t she understand that? Anyway, the boys could come with him, why wouldn’t they want to? it’s football and they both love it.
The family didn’t talk much over tea. Frankly he was a little upset by the lack of interest shown by any of them in what had for him been a landmark day. Both results had gone the right way and disaster had been averted. He liked to think he was partly responsible for both results, after all, he helped out with both teams and they listened to him. He certainly knew his stuff; - sometimes he wondered if anyone really appreciated this.
“Little Callum is a beauty, just like his mum.” She said as the two sat on the sofa late that Saturday evening.
“Huh, oh, good.” He fumbled with the remote control scrambling through the index until he found the channel playing that familiar signature tune.
“It was a long labour though, mother and baby both very tired. He is a little bit yellow and jaundiced.”
Her husband’s attention was focused on the football highlights being beamed to the nation.
“We scored one like that today, Billy Downs from outside the area . .brilliant.” She stared at him with some contempt, he hadn’t taken in any of what she’d said.
“Landmark day today, even a draw would have made it almost impossible to survive, both games we had to win, and we did.”
“You know, you take it so seriously, there’s more to life than bloody football. The way you go on anyone would think it’s a matter of life or death!”
He heard the phone ring. He was glad that she was getting it, Sunday morning belonged to him, it would need something momentous to cause a change of plan. It was Harry’s game today, they usually all went but now apparently she needed to go visiting again!
“Do you have to go this morning? We’ve got to be at football in an hour.” This was most inconvenient, this was his one slot in the week when he could take a step back and just enjoy watching the game. He had nothing to do with his other son’s team and after a stressful Saturday he needed to just relax and enjoy this one. Now all of a sudden he has to take her to the hospital first!
“Sue just wants me there this morning, she sounds very low, . it’s sometimes quite normal after a birth. You can drop me on the way, I’ll find my own way back.”
“That’s three out of three gone our way boys.” It was some time later when they swaggered back to the car. This was sweet. This was the weekend they were going to look back on at the end of the season with defining memories.
“All we need now is for City to win the Derby this afternoon and my weekend is complete! Come on, let’s get home and tell mum how well you’ve done and get the TV on.”
His mobile rang, it was his other half. Apparently she wasn’t going to be back for a while, she couldn’t leave things how they were right now. Actually she sounded a little upset but he wasn’t able to talk for long as the football had started. She’d let him know when she needed picking up! – he’d told her she might have to wait now if it was during the next hour and a half.
City won. All was good. The boys were happy because they supported City because he supported City, but, something was missing! she hadn’t been there and he felt she should have been. He liked the jubilant celebrations to be with the whole family and yet something seemed to have come up that had kept her away! What was it now? she couldn’t leave things as they were! – so, suppose she’s still at the hospital and, . . no signal! He’d tried texting her the result, then a message to ask when she was coming home and did she need picking up? Then another text to check that things were alright;- no reply. - So he rang; - no reply.
Time moved on. It was late evening now and his weekend of momentous importance had been flattened by the lack of his wife’s presence. Where was she? The boys were worried too. The front door handle turned and she walked slowly in, her ashen faced told him that something of momentous importance must have happened to flatten her weekend.
“It was just so, so awful . . .poor Sue and Barry. How will they ever get over this?” Her voice wavered as she sat with her eyes of a wet glaze staring into emptiness. He couldn’t answer her.
“There was just nothing they could do for him poor little soul . . nothing at all. They said it was complete Liver failure and that his little body just wasn’t strong enough. it was like . .” she struggled through the tears of sadness to finish the sentence; “. . It was like, . . just one minute there was life, then the next minute – death!”
He still couldn’t answer, but he did hold her close, he was now trying to be of some comfort. All was silent for a minute or two, then she spoke;
“It’s just been a truly awful weekend, It started so wonderfully with life, and now, it has ended so sadly.” She contemplated, trying to come to terms with the tragic experience of her weekend.
As the two of them sat together in silence, he thought about his weekend too!
The Fallen
Anyone can fall, but what does that mean?
Brave men have fallen in battle;
Heroes have fallen from grace;
But sometimes in life, people just fall . . . but if they do, it's always for a reason.
* * * * *
What now?
He’d grappled with the cold stonework and swung his body underneath the viaduct just in time. They surely hadn’t seen him! but as he felt that sudden cold cut of night air engulf his tired hanging body, realisation began to set in. There was nothing else he could do, nowhere else he was able to hide, he had to hope they wouldn’t find him. But as the approaching vicious cries betrayed the violent anger of his pursuers, he knew his time was nearly up.
So here he was, hanging desperately from the bridge.
How had it come to this? In those few cold, lonely but very precious moments, he started to recall it all:
They’d taken some risks, him and Kat, but they’d thought it was safe, they never reckoned on being caught. Where was she anyway? He’d split from her a while back . . . they’d had to . . . safer alone - less chance of them both being found.
Suddenly the shouting was right upon him. His body ached, racked with fatigue. He looked across to the hillside opposite, he thought he could see someone looking back at him, but there was no light, just the darkness of the night. He felt so alone, he looked down and as he did so he panicked. He knew they were about to find him.
All of a sudden he felt calmer, it was like he was in a different place. He found himself sitting on a grass bank rubbing his eyes. Had he fallen? He didn't remember. He strained his eyes to watch the folks in the distance. What was going on? As he looked back at them It seemed as if they were looking for something down in the valley. A group of people were scouring around in the undergrowth, and there was something else now as well; - it wasn’t so dark! He could see across the valley enough to make out the shapes of people moving around.
Now, he remembered Kat, his girlfriend and as if he needed no more stimulus he rose shakily to his feet. 'Where was she?’
He started to head south towards the town. The light was stronger now, he felt different, kind of refreshed but not quite himself. It was a bit like being on something but he’d been clean for weeks now; so had she. ‘Where was Kat?’
He walked eagerly towards the city lights, he could cross the railway again a little further up and then the winding footpath would bring him out right on the main street. Time seemed to pass so quickly and he felt as if the night air was lifting him.
Suddenly, as he found himself making his way down towards the bus station he could hear the noise of misspent youth - the sound of unnecessary anger and antagonism. He felt suddenly alert, and suddenly very aware, and, quite unusually, he found himself running towards the sound.
He had to find out what was going on and he knew he needed to find Kat.
So, what now?
She’d run as soon as she’d read the situation. It had taken her all of five seconds to decide! They weren’t going to stop. She looked down at the pavement in front of her oblivious to the pounding noise gaining on her by the second. She had to beat them, they surely wouldn’t spare much mercy, this was big serious stuff they were into and she wasn’t going to try and kid herself or anyone else, she knew it like it was.
As she ran the pavement told her a story: Each paving slab was a moment in time, a ‘chapter’ of her life passing quickly - a step that took her further each time but towards what?
They were on to her and suddenly it seemed as if the pavement in front was her life - falling away, vanishing before her! The end was in sight, soon kat would have nowhere else to run!
He could see her now in the distance . . . yes, surely that was her . . . and they were close – too close! He had to act fast, he had to concentrate.
The next sound was sickening. Somewhere, in the back of her mind she knew what was coming. The sound of gunshots pierced the cold night air, but she was still standing!
It all happened so quickly, as these things do, but to him it seemed in slow motion. All he managed to actually do was dive in front of them, but he'd felt so angry, but so determined and so much in control. There was a rumble and a nearby wall collapsed shedding mortar and brick dust into the close vicinity. She was past it, but they weren't!
He kept on running, not daring to look over his shoulder. Not much further now, he knew he must get home . . . or at least to that safe haven. They were still coming for him. Faster he ran and more desperate he became as the violent anger from his remaining pursuers became evident.
'Was she safe?' he thought . . . 'had he done enough?'
In the next few moments he strived to turn this over in his mind. It was hard, he wasn't sure. It hurt! Like the athlete giving everything – going for gold, he felt pain. He felt pain everywhere, in every muscle - every sinew of his entire physical being. But had he done enough?
So, what happened next?
Well, they ran. They ran and ran and continued to run until they were clear of it all. But he could still hear them, they were still upon him. . . and he had to get away. . .
. . . So this was it. There was nothing else he could do, nowhere else to hide, he had to hope they wouldn’t find him here.
So here he was, hanging desperately from that bridge.
How had it come to this? In those few cold, lonely but very precious moments, he'd recalled it all. His body ached, racked with fatigue. As he looked across at the hillside opposite he could see someone looking back at him . . . and he knew. . . he knew at that moment they were about to find him and his time was up.
He let go, and, suddenly, he felt calmer. And now, he was in that different place. . . a place that now felt familiar. He looked back towards the grass bank beneath the railway bridge, all the folk there . . . clearly they were looking for him.
Suddenly it all kicked in, he knew now what he must do. He must help Kat, his girlfriend . . . so, he let go . . . and he fell . . .
Anyone can fall, but what does that mean?
Brave men have fallen in battle;
Heroes have fallen from grace;
But sometimes in life, people just fall . . . but if they do, it's always for a reason.
* * * * *
What now?
He’d grappled with the cold stonework and swung his body underneath the viaduct just in time. They surely hadn’t seen him! but as he felt that sudden cold cut of night air engulf his tired hanging body, realisation began to set in. There was nothing else he could do, nowhere else he was able to hide, he had to hope they wouldn’t find him. But as the approaching vicious cries betrayed the violent anger of his pursuers, he knew his time was nearly up.
So here he was, hanging desperately from the bridge.
How had it come to this? In those few cold, lonely but very precious moments, he started to recall it all:
They’d taken some risks, him and Kat, but they’d thought it was safe, they never reckoned on being caught. Where was she anyway? He’d split from her a while back . . . they’d had to . . . safer alone - less chance of them both being found.
Suddenly the shouting was right upon him. His body ached, racked with fatigue. He looked across to the hillside opposite, he thought he could see someone looking back at him, but there was no light, just the darkness of the night. He felt so alone, he looked down and as he did so he panicked. He knew they were about to find him.
All of a sudden he felt calmer, it was like he was in a different place. He found himself sitting on a grass bank rubbing his eyes. Had he fallen? He didn't remember. He strained his eyes to watch the folks in the distance. What was going on? As he looked back at them It seemed as if they were looking for something down in the valley. A group of people were scouring around in the undergrowth, and there was something else now as well; - it wasn’t so dark! He could see across the valley enough to make out the shapes of people moving around.
Now, he remembered Kat, his girlfriend and as if he needed no more stimulus he rose shakily to his feet. 'Where was she?’
He started to head south towards the town. The light was stronger now, he felt different, kind of refreshed but not quite himself. It was a bit like being on something but he’d been clean for weeks now; so had she. ‘Where was Kat?’
He walked eagerly towards the city lights, he could cross the railway again a little further up and then the winding footpath would bring him out right on the main street. Time seemed to pass so quickly and he felt as if the night air was lifting him.
Suddenly, as he found himself making his way down towards the bus station he could hear the noise of misspent youth - the sound of unnecessary anger and antagonism. He felt suddenly alert, and suddenly very aware, and, quite unusually, he found himself running towards the sound.
He had to find out what was going on and he knew he needed to find Kat.
So, what now?
She’d run as soon as she’d read the situation. It had taken her all of five seconds to decide! They weren’t going to stop. She looked down at the pavement in front of her oblivious to the pounding noise gaining on her by the second. She had to beat them, they surely wouldn’t spare much mercy, this was big serious stuff they were into and she wasn’t going to try and kid herself or anyone else, she knew it like it was.
As she ran the pavement told her a story: Each paving slab was a moment in time, a ‘chapter’ of her life passing quickly - a step that took her further each time but towards what?
They were on to her and suddenly it seemed as if the pavement in front was her life - falling away, vanishing before her! The end was in sight, soon kat would have nowhere else to run!
He could see her now in the distance . . . yes, surely that was her . . . and they were close – too close! He had to act fast, he had to concentrate.
The next sound was sickening. Somewhere, in the back of her mind she knew what was coming. The sound of gunshots pierced the cold night air, but she was still standing!
It all happened so quickly, as these things do, but to him it seemed in slow motion. All he managed to actually do was dive in front of them, but he'd felt so angry, but so determined and so much in control. There was a rumble and a nearby wall collapsed shedding mortar and brick dust into the close vicinity. She was past it, but they weren't!
He kept on running, not daring to look over his shoulder. Not much further now, he knew he must get home . . . or at least to that safe haven. They were still coming for him. Faster he ran and more desperate he became as the violent anger from his remaining pursuers became evident.
'Was she safe?' he thought . . . 'had he done enough?'
In the next few moments he strived to turn this over in his mind. It was hard, he wasn't sure. It hurt! Like the athlete giving everything – going for gold, he felt pain. He felt pain everywhere, in every muscle - every sinew of his entire physical being. But had he done enough?
So, what happened next?
Well, they ran. They ran and ran and continued to run until they were clear of it all. But he could still hear them, they were still upon him. . . and he had to get away. . .
. . . So this was it. There was nothing else he could do, nowhere else to hide, he had to hope they wouldn’t find him here.
So here he was, hanging desperately from that bridge.
How had it come to this? In those few cold, lonely but very precious moments, he'd recalled it all. His body ached, racked with fatigue. As he looked across at the hillside opposite he could see someone looking back at him . . . and he knew. . . he knew at that moment they were about to find him and his time was up.
He let go, and, suddenly, he felt calmer. And now, he was in that different place. . . a place that now felt familiar. He looked back towards the grass bank beneath the railway bridge, all the folk there . . . clearly they were looking for him.
Suddenly it all kicked in, he knew now what he must do. He must help Kat, his girlfriend . . . so, he let go . . . and he fell . . .
