happened? why are you sat outside here like this? C’mon, it’s freezing, let’s go inside.”
Jimmy didn’t answer, but just kept on sobbing and moaningto himself. His lank, greasy hair covered his face, his jeans were torn at the knee, and even from a couple of yards away you could smell the malodorous reek that came off his clothes. Cissy sat down next to him on the step, putting her arm around his shoulder, then she asked him once again what was the matter.
“It’s ’Rene — she tried to top herself by jumpin’ under a tube train, for Christ’s sake. Only she didn’t do it properly, the train stopped in time, or pushed her along, or something … but anyway, it went over her leg an’ they’ve had to amputate it — she’s in UCH now, still unconscious, I’ve just come from there. Oh shit, what am I gonna do, what about the kid …?”
This was so heavy — so over-the-top — that I had to stifle an impulse to laugh; but Cissy had gone deathly pale, and neither of us knew what to say. Irene was Jimmy’s common-law wife, fresh over from Ireland when they met, a well-brought-up country girl who always seemed totally out of her depth and perpetually bemused whenever you spoke to her. She was no match for Jimmy with his underhand junkie ways, and was always trying to get him to stop taking drugs, probably praying for his poor, abandoned soul each Sunday in church. Although he’d made something of an effort to stay clean since the baby had been born, basically he was incorrigible and always found ways to get money for a hit, even if the flat was without food or electricity. In spite of this, his weakness and selfishness, he truly doted on Irene and his baby daughter with the kind of helpless, hopeless love that I saw time and again in junkie relationships — a love born out of emptiness and desperation that could break your heart if you thought about it for any length of time at all.
Finally, I broke the sob-wracked silence that had fallen between us.
“C’mon, Jimmy, let’s go get a drink — you’re gonna freeze to death if you stay out here much longer.”
“I don’t care, I don’t wanna fuckin’ drink … I just wanna crawl into a corner somewhere an’ die. An’ anyway, I couldn’t face all those pissed-up fuckers in the pub, no way.”
“Yeah, c’mon babe,” said Cissy, “can’t you see he’s sick? Here Jimmy, come with me, I’ll get you some gear — you need to get out of it tonight, forget about everythin’, then tomorrow you can start dealin’ with things, start thinkin’ about what to do. Rene’s gonna need you, so is the kid, but tonight you need to forget. Listen babe, I won’t be long, an’ I promise I won’t get high myself — but you can see what a state he’s in, an’ someone’s gotta look after him. So here, take my keys an’ wait up for me, I won’t be long, honest. I love you …”
Before I could say anything, she had planted a kiss on my lips and had disappeared into the night with Jimmy in tow. I was worried that she wouldn’t be able to resist taking a hit also, but when she returned about two-thirty in the morning, and got into bed, I could see she had been true to her word: she’d spent the last bit of money she had on getting Jimmy high, but had not taken anything herself. She had stayed up half the night talking with him, trying to calm him down until he’d finally passed out, and now she was worn out herself, pale and shaking from the emotional trauma of the last few hours. She curled up in my arms, the tears pouring silently down her face as I held her close, and I could feel the darkness inside her welling up, as if from an underground cave. Just before I fell asleep, I heard her whispering, almost to herself, “I can’t deal with it anymore, there’s just too much pain … really babe, I can’t deal with it anymore — what the fuck are we gonna do …?”
• • •
As the winter passed, I could feel Cissy starting to slip
Jimmy didn’t answer, but just kept on sobbing and moaningto himself. His lank, greasy hair covered his face, his jeans were torn at the knee, and even from a couple of yards away you could smell the malodorous reek that came off his clothes. Cissy sat down next to him on the step, putting her arm around his shoulder, then she asked him once again what was the matter.
“It’s ’Rene — she tried to top herself by jumpin’ under a tube train, for Christ’s sake. Only she didn’t do it properly, the train stopped in time, or pushed her along, or something … but anyway, it went over her leg an’ they’ve had to amputate it — she’s in UCH now, still unconscious, I’ve just come from there. Oh shit, what am I gonna do, what about the kid …?”
This was so heavy — so over-the-top — that I had to stifle an impulse to laugh; but Cissy had gone deathly pale, and neither of us knew what to say. Irene was Jimmy’s common-law wife, fresh over from Ireland when they met, a well-brought-up country girl who always seemed totally out of her depth and perpetually bemused whenever you spoke to her. She was no match for Jimmy with his underhand junkie ways, and was always trying to get him to stop taking drugs, probably praying for his poor, abandoned soul each Sunday in church. Although he’d made something of an effort to stay clean since the baby had been born, basically he was incorrigible and always found ways to get money for a hit, even if the flat was without food or electricity. In spite of this, his weakness and selfishness, he truly doted on Irene and his baby daughter with the kind of helpless, hopeless love that I saw time and again in junkie relationships — a love born out of emptiness and desperation that could break your heart if you thought about it for any length of time at all.
Finally, I broke the sob-wracked silence that had fallen between us.
“C’mon, Jimmy, let’s go get a drink — you’re gonna freeze to death if you stay out here much longer.”
“I don’t care, I don’t wanna fuckin’ drink … I just wanna crawl into a corner somewhere an’ die. An’ anyway, I couldn’t face all those pissed-up fuckers in the pub, no way.”
“Yeah, c’mon babe,” said Cissy, “can’t you see he’s sick? Here Jimmy, come with me, I’ll get you some gear — you need to get out of it tonight, forget about everythin’, then tomorrow you can start dealin’ with things, start thinkin’ about what to do. Rene’s gonna need you, so is the kid, but tonight you need to forget. Listen babe, I won’t be long, an’ I promise I won’t get high myself — but you can see what a state he’s in, an’ someone’s gotta look after him. So here, take my keys an’ wait up for me, I won’t be long, honest. I love you …”
Before I could say anything, she had planted a kiss on my lips and had disappeared into the night with Jimmy in tow. I was worried that she wouldn’t be able to resist taking a hit also, but when she returned about two-thirty in the morning, and got into bed, I could see she had been true to her word: she’d spent the last bit of money she had on getting Jimmy high, but had not taken anything herself. She had stayed up half the night talking with him, trying to calm him down until he’d finally passed out, and now she was worn out herself, pale and shaking from the emotional trauma of the last few hours. She curled up in my arms, the tears pouring silently down her face as I held her close, and I could feel the darkness inside her welling up, as if from an underground cave. Just before I fell asleep, I heard her whispering, almost to herself, “I can’t deal with it anymore, there’s just too much pain … really babe, I can’t deal with it anymore — what the fuck are we gonna do …?”
• • •
As the winter passed, I could feel Cissy starting to slip
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