Tomorrow

Tomorrow - Chp. 6

                        The drive home took all of seventeen minutes after leaving the Hales. I don’t recall ever calling for a taxi before but under the circumstances, I doubted Margaret was in any mood to drive me home. Not bothering to use their phone, I waited until I walked the length of the driveway and called on my mobile for the ride. The man looked at me funny as I stood at the gates, waiting in the dark for him to arrive. I could have used the excuse of car trouble, but didn’t feel a need to offer an explanation to a complete stranger.

            The house was dark when I arrived home. Fanny must be out with Barry or she would have all the lights on in the living room. I was glad she wasn’t home. After the day I had, I didn’t want to answer any of her questions. My head hurt and I felt physically sick. Sleep was what I needed, especially since tomorrow was workday.

            I would go in early. Doing that had been helping lately regardless of how tired I became by early afternoon.

            That was the trouble, I thought. I could try to work the long hours but the stress was catching up with me. The trip to London was rescheduled for Tuesday next. It was something I now looked forward to, as it would prevent the chances of running into Margaret Hale during the day.

            The image of her tear stained face still bothered me. Each time I closed my eyes, she was there, smiling then crying, always crying as if her heart was broken. I couldn’t escape her. The guilt I felt was enormous. I didn’t want to hurt the girl, but it seemed to end that way each time we met. Couldn’t we just get together without the emotional tie in?

Changing out of my clothes, I went through the motions of getting ready for bed. I acted more like a robot or someone on automatic pilot as I brushed, washed, used the toilet and then got into bed. Lying down, I stayed on top of the covers for while but shut off the lights. In the darkness I tried to find a moment’s peace.

Maybe, I thought to myself, if I just lay here, not moving, not trying to think of anything I could fall asleep quicker.

It had been hard to do just that the last couple of weeks. The mass jumble of thoughts always attacked me as soon as I closed my eyes and pulled the sheets to my chin. I never got more than a few minutes respite before the voices attacked, bombarding me with images, with questions, all poking, prodding, pushing towards the one goal of breaking through the barriers and setting my memories free.

If only I could do just that. If there was a way I could tear down whatever it was preventing their return I would do it in a heartbeat. What did I need to do? Hitting myself over the head was not an option. Seeing a specialist as mother suggested was not even in consideration. I already did the seeing old pictures angle; the reliving stories from my past segment. The one answer that came to me was time. I needed time, but no one wanted to give me that.

I listened to the sounds of the house, of the slight creaking of the floorboards. It was considerably quiet on my side of the house and yet, even that silence turned deafening when it was all I could hear. Outside, the end of summer winds began to howl, just enough that they could be heard through the small opening of my window. As usual, I left a few inches open for the breezes to enter.

            It was all ordinary, and I heard it all a thousand times but now it kept me awake. I could lie there in the dark for what seemed like hours, checking the clock only to see that twenty or thirty minutes had passed. It never appeared to matter if I closed my eyes or not, I still wouldn’t sleep until it grew early in the start of a new day and I finally dozed off in exhaustion. Tonight I knew should be no different, only that I had something new to worry and fret over.