Fake Tales

Chapter 4- The Empty Room

Chapter 4- The Empty room 

As soon as Mel and I rounded the corner to her street I regretted suggesting I come over. Greg's car was parked in the drive; undriven because Mel hadn't passed her test and Linda preferred to drive her own. God I remember how insufferable he had been when he'd bought that car. He had driven everywhere, even if it was down the road: just because he could. What a dickhead he had been, I thought fondly.

Her house was a standard semi-detached house, except for the blanket of green ivy sovering its facade. I hadn't been here since the wake. A strong feeling of apprehension swept over me thinking of how empty the house would feel, of the room with all his stuff still in it.

We got inside and I was surprised that it felt exactly the same. It was just a house. Anyone else could walk inside and not know anything was missing. That there was a hole that couldn't be filled. We went straight to the kitchen and I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"It's quiet without him here" I whispered. I don't know what made me say it, I had never intended to speak to her about him, but now it was out I couldn't help it. Mel looked at me, at the pure misery in my expression and her eyes filled with tears.

"Every time I think I'm doing better I come home and it all goes downhill again" She replied.

"I keep expecting him to walk in like it's all a massive joke" She muttered and I frowned, knowing I felt the same.

"Well you can always come to mine more if you want" I offered and was surprised to see the warmth fall from her face.

"Don't do that Mad" She said sharply.

"Do what?" I replied, pursing my lips a little in upset.

"Baby me. You and Dom should know me well enough by now to..." She trailed off in frustration. I sighed, so it wasn't only our friendship that was suffering. I wondered if she had snapped at Dom like that when he had tried comforting her.

"Forget I offered. You deal with it how you want to deal with it" I said hurriedly.

"Shall we put the film on?" I added.

"Yeah" She replied, her voice still a little sharp. I nodded and we headed to the lounge and started the film. Mel put a blanket over the two of us and we settled down to watch it. The silence that fell over us made my heart sink. With Mel it used to be hard to get a word in she chattered away so much.

I was hardly concentrating on the film when one of our favourite lines came up. Like old times, Mel touched my arm excitedly.

'If you're from Africa why are you white?'

'Oh my God Karen you can't just ask people why they're white'

We looked at each other, bursting into laughter. It felt good to see the lines of worry disappear, even just for a minute. But it hurt too, when she laughed you saw just how much Greg's death had cost her. Because now when she laughed you could see how surprised she was that she had done so; so shocked she could be happy again.

Later when I excused myself to go to the bathroom, I knew it wasn't my only destination. My legs had carried me to Greg's room without even recognising they were doing so. I opened the door slowly as if expecting him to be sitting there, looking up at me in surprise.

The walls were a roasted red, but the coldness in the room was obvious. All his posters and photos were still up and his bed was still made, but it was so empty. I wondered whether Mel and Linda had spent much time in here, just to think about him. I went to the wardrobe, where all his clothes were muddled and pushed in like any guy's room. One shirt stood out; a Fred perry he'd worn the night of Mel's birthday. I picked it up and his familiar aftershave hit my nostrils. The wave of memories were too much for me; I put it down and closed the wardrobe.