a sixth story...'endtimes'

I’ll never forget the last time I saw him, it was a grey March morning.  He had stayed over and said he would walk me to the station, but instead of saying goodbye to me at the gates, as he usually did, when we were only halfway there, he said he had to go somewhere.  He kissed me quickly on the lips, squeezed my shoulders, and told me he would see me later.  I continued on to the station, bought my ticket, went up onto the platform to take the train into work; he headed back to his house, took the stairs to his bedroom, locked the door from the inside, and killed himself with a cocktail of antiemetic drugs.

At his funeral they played his song.  The funeral was at a red brick Methodist church on a busy roundabout.  None of the congregation were regular church goers, and it was clear by the mismatching suits and the assortment of women’s dresses that no one was really sure of proper funeral etiquette, but we only had to sing one hymn and listen to a couple of readings, and people reminiscing about him.  His mother asked if I wanted to make a speech.  His father, a tall, straight man in a dark blue suit and a black turtleneck, said a few words to finish things, his face creased and drawn.  Afterwards we all accumulated in the car park behind the church, some of us smoking, some of us huddled into our coats against the chill wind, not saying much.

I was desperate to leave, and on the way back accepted a lift from my ex.  He asked if I wanted to stop off at his for a cup of tea and to talk.  We were still on speaking terms.  Again I agreed, and somehow we ended up making love on the nicotine stained corduroy sofa in the front room. It was joyless and rough.  I left without my handbag, my makeup and one of my purses, but it didn’t matter, nor did it bother me to walk home in the rain, where I stood with my arms folded by the kitchen window, watching darkness gather in the branches of the trees bordering the recreation ground across the road.  And when at last I went to bed, my clothes were still damp and the bed sheets were cold.