round, dark eyes — he was a dead ringer for a chimpanzee.
‘I was a doctor. Still am a doctor only I can’t practise any more. Now I help run a clinic for junkies and alkies and anybody who needs help, like Rosie.’
Lorraine looked away for she could read the pain in those animal eyes. Maybe Jake could see something similar in her own because he seemed to relent. He opened his wallet and passed over a card. ‘You can call me on that line. I know somebody who needs a bit of clerical work done, be a few bucks in hand — or you can work for me. I’m a glutton for punishment. We need as many helping hands as possible, but there’s no money in it.’
As she pocketed the card, she felt Jake’s cigarettes. She didn’t dare bring one out in case he asked for them back. He stood up and glanced at the broken screen door. ‘Tell Rosie I’m around.’
Lorraine watched his stocky figure strut off down the road. Then she searched for Rosie’s handbag. She was opening the purse when she heard moaning from the bathroom. Rosie was trying in vain to stand up. Lorraine looked at her, in no way disgusted by the spectacle: she’d seen and been in a lot worse states herself. ‘I guess I just tied another one on, didn’t I?’
Lorraine laughed. ‘Yep, you sure did. Your pal was here — Jake.’
‘Was he? Well, are you gonna stand there gloating or are you gonna help me get up off the fucking floor?’
Lorraine tried to pull her up but fell forward on top of her. Rosie felt like a mammoth blanket. Eventually, after much tugging and heaving, she managed to get into a sitting position, where she held her head in her hands and groaned. Lorraine fetched a glass of water and held it out. Rosie gulped it down, and then demanded another. She drank four full glasses before she rested back against the shower. ‘Did you say Jake was here?’
Lorraine nodded, and Rosie began to cry, guilty and morose. She sobbed and sobbed, a jumbled, incoherent stream of adoring phrases about the chimpanzee man, blowing her nose and wiping her eyes.
‘I’m off to see if I can find a job, Rosie. Did you hear me?’
Rosie hauled herself slowly to her feet. ‘Sure. Do what you like.’
‘Can I take a few dollars?’ she called from the sitting room.
‘Sure, honey, if there’s any left. I dunno how much I spent…’ Rosie dragged herself unsteadily to the chair by the telephone and sat down. “I’ll wait a while, then call him. I need to talk to him. I’m sorry, but I guess you’ll do better without me. I knew I’d make a lousy sponsor. Jake was right about that.’ She leaned back with her eyes closed. ‘You must be proud of yourself. You didn’t have a drink with me, did you?’
‘Nope, guess I didn’t.’ Lorraine emptied Rosie’s purse, and walked out.
She had no intention of seeing Rosie again. She felt almost lighthearted, a strange new confidence in herself: she had not taken a drink. She might have finished the bottle if Jake hadn’t walked in when he did but, as it was, she had not had a drink.
The late-afternoon sun was brilliant, blistering down, and she could feel the pavement scorching through her cheap second-hand shoes. The feeling of being in control of something as simple as her own feet, of walking in a straight line, made her confidence jump a tiny notch higher. She took off the elastic band from her hair, and shook it loose. It smelt of lemons, just like the old shampoo she used, how long ago? Lorraine reached the corner, and stopped to light a cigarette. Tossing the match aside, she inhaled deeply and let the smoke drift slowly out of her mouth. She sucked again at the cigarette, watching the lit rim of tobacco move up the white paper before she exhaled. She didn’t want to think about the past, about what or who she had been.
A car crawled to a stop just ahead of her. She’d seen it out of the corner of her eye even before it passed: a dark blue Sedan. She could even describe the driver —
‘I was a doctor. Still am a doctor only I can’t practise any more. Now I help run a clinic for junkies and alkies and anybody who needs help, like Rosie.’
Lorraine looked away for she could read the pain in those animal eyes. Maybe Jake could see something similar in her own because he seemed to relent. He opened his wallet and passed over a card. ‘You can call me on that line. I know somebody who needs a bit of clerical work done, be a few bucks in hand — or you can work for me. I’m a glutton for punishment. We need as many helping hands as possible, but there’s no money in it.’
As she pocketed the card, she felt Jake’s cigarettes. She didn’t dare bring one out in case he asked for them back. He stood up and glanced at the broken screen door. ‘Tell Rosie I’m around.’
Lorraine watched his stocky figure strut off down the road. Then she searched for Rosie’s handbag. She was opening the purse when she heard moaning from the bathroom. Rosie was trying in vain to stand up. Lorraine looked at her, in no way disgusted by the spectacle: she’d seen and been in a lot worse states herself. ‘I guess I just tied another one on, didn’t I?’
Lorraine laughed. ‘Yep, you sure did. Your pal was here — Jake.’
‘Was he? Well, are you gonna stand there gloating or are you gonna help me get up off the fucking floor?’
Lorraine tried to pull her up but fell forward on top of her. Rosie felt like a mammoth blanket. Eventually, after much tugging and heaving, she managed to get into a sitting position, where she held her head in her hands and groaned. Lorraine fetched a glass of water and held it out. Rosie gulped it down, and then demanded another. She drank four full glasses before she rested back against the shower. ‘Did you say Jake was here?’
Lorraine nodded, and Rosie began to cry, guilty and morose. She sobbed and sobbed, a jumbled, incoherent stream of adoring phrases about the chimpanzee man, blowing her nose and wiping her eyes.
‘I’m off to see if I can find a job, Rosie. Did you hear me?’
Rosie hauled herself slowly to her feet. ‘Sure. Do what you like.’
‘Can I take a few dollars?’ she called from the sitting room.
‘Sure, honey, if there’s any left. I dunno how much I spent…’ Rosie dragged herself unsteadily to the chair by the telephone and sat down. “I’ll wait a while, then call him. I need to talk to him. I’m sorry, but I guess you’ll do better without me. I knew I’d make a lousy sponsor. Jake was right about that.’ She leaned back with her eyes closed. ‘You must be proud of yourself. You didn’t have a drink with me, did you?’
‘Nope, guess I didn’t.’ Lorraine emptied Rosie’s purse, and walked out.
She had no intention of seeing Rosie again. She felt almost lighthearted, a strange new confidence in herself: she had not taken a drink. She might have finished the bottle if Jake hadn’t walked in when he did but, as it was, she had not had a drink.
The late-afternoon sun was brilliant, blistering down, and she could feel the pavement scorching through her cheap second-hand shoes. The feeling of being in control of something as simple as her own feet, of walking in a straight line, made her confidence jump a tiny notch higher. She took off the elastic band from her hair, and shook it loose. It smelt of lemons, just like the old shampoo she used, how long ago? Lorraine reached the corner, and stopped to light a cigarette. Tossing the match aside, she inhaled deeply and let the smoke drift slowly out of her mouth. She sucked again at the cigarette, watching the lit rim of tobacco move up the white paper before she exhaled. She didn’t want to think about the past, about what or who she had been.
A car crawled to a stop just ahead of her. She’d seen it out of the corner of her eye even before it passed: a dark blue Sedan. She could even describe the driver —
Similar Books
