by Nick Hornby
‘No, no. We can interfere. Interfering is part of the process, see? All you have to do is think about it, and after that, whatever. If we stop someone, the gods have spoken.’
‘And if I were a god,’ said Martin, ‘you’re exactly the sort of person I’d use as a mouthpiece.’
‘Are you being dirty?’
‘No. I’m being complimentary.’
Jess looked pleased.
‘So shall we look for someone?’ she said.
‘How do you look for someone?’ JJ asked her.
‘There’s probably someone in here, for a start.’
We looked around the pub. It was just after seven, and there weren’t many people in yet. In the corner by the gents’, there were a couple of young fellas in suits looking at a mobile phone and laughing. At the table nearest the bar, there were three young women, looking at photographs and laughing. At the table next to us there was a young couple laughing about nothing, and sitting at the bar there was a middle-aged guy reading a newspaper.
‘Too much laughing,’ said Jess.
‘Anyone who thinks text messages are funny isn’t going to kill himself,’ said JJ. ‘There isn’t enough going on internally.’
‘I’ve seen some funny text messages,’ said Jess.
‘Yeah, well,’ said Martin. ‘I’m not sure that really disproves JJ’s point.’
‘Shut up,’ said Jess. ‘What about the bloke reading the paper? He’s on his own. He’s probably the best we can do.’
JJ and Martin looked at each other and laughed.
‘The best we can do?’ said Martin. ‘So what you’re saying is that we have to dissuade someone in this room from killing themselves whether they were thinking of it or not?’
‘Yeah, well, the laughing cretins aren’t going to go up there, are they? He looks more, like, deep.’
‘He’s reading the racing page of the f— Sun,’ said Martin. ‘In a moment his mate’s going to turn up, and they’ll have fifteen pints and a curry.’
‘Snob.’
‘Oh, and who’s the one who thinks you have to be deep to kill yourself?’
‘We all do,’ said JJ. ‘Don’t we?’
We had two drinks each. Martin drank large whiskies with water, JJ drank pints of Guinness, Jess drank Red Bull and vodka, and I drank white wine. I’d probably have been dizzy three months ago, but I seem to drink a lot now, so when we got up to walk across the road, I just felt warm and friendly. The clocks had gone forward on the previous Sunday, and even though it seemed dark when we were down on the street, up on the roof it felt as though there were some light left somewhere in the city. We leaned on the wall, right next to the place where Martin had cut through the wire, and looked south towards the river.
‘So,’ said Jess. ‘Anyone up for going over?’
No one said anything, because it wasn’t a serious question any more, so we just smiled.
‘It’s gotta be a good thing, right? That we’re still around?’ said JJ.
‘Der,’ said Jess.
‘No,’ said JJ. ‘It wasn’t a rhetorical question.’
Jess swore at him and asked him what that was supposed to mean.
‘I mean, I really do want to know,’ said JJ. ‘I really do want to know whether it’s… I don’t know.’
‘Better that we’re here than that we’re not?’ said Martin.
‘Yeah. That. I guess.’
‘It’s better for your kids,’ said Jess.
‘I suppose so,’ said Martin. ‘Not that I ever see them.’
‘It’s better for Matty,’ said JJ, and I didn’t say anything, which reminded everyone else that it wasn’t really better for Matty at all.
‘We’ve all got loved ones, anyway,’ said Martin. ‘And our loved ones would rather we were alive than dead. On balance.’
‘You reckon?’ said Jess.
‘Are you asking me whether I think your parents want you to live? Yes, Jess, your parents want you to live.’
Jess made a face, as though she didn’t believe him.
‘How come we didn’t think of this before?’ said JJ. ‘On New Year’s Eve? I never thought of my parents once.’
‘Because things were worse then, I suppose,’ said Martin. ‘Family’s like, I don’t know. Gravity. Stronger at some times than others.’
‘Yup. That’s gravity for you. That’s why in the morning we can like float, and in the evening we can’t hardly lift our feet.’
‘Tides, then. You don’t notice the pull when it’s… Well, anyway. You know what I mean.’
‘If some guy came up here tonight, what would you tell him?’ said JJ.
‘I’d tell him about the ninety days,’ said Jess. ‘’Cos it’s true, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah,’ said JJ. ‘It’s true that none of us feel like killing ourselves tonight. But like… If he asked us why, if he said to us, So tell me what great things have happened to you since you decided not to go over the edge… what would you tell him?’
‘I’d tell him about my job in the newsagent’s,’ I said. ‘And the quiz.’
The others looked at their feet. Jess thought about saying something, but JJ caught her eye, and she changed her mind.
‘Yeah, well, you, you’re doing OK,’ said JJ after a little while. ‘But I’m f— busking, man. Sorry, Maureen.’
‘And I’m failing to help the dimmest child in the world with his reading,’ said Martin.
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself,’ said Jess. ‘You’re failing at loads of different things. You’re failing with your kids, and your relationships…’
‘Oh, yes, whereas you, Jess… You’re such a f— success. You’ve got it all.’
‘Sorry, Maureen,’ said JJ.
‘Yes, excuse me, Maureen.’
‘I didn’t know Nodog ninety days ago,’ said Jess.
‘Ah, yes,’ said Martin. ‘Nodog. The one unqualified achievement any of us can boast of. Maureen’s quiz team excepted, of course.’
I didn’t remind him about the newsagent’s. I know it’s not much, but it might have seemed as though I was rubbing it in a bit.
‘Let’s tell our suicidal friend about Nodog. “Oh, yes. Jess here has met a man who doesn’t believe in names, and thinks we should all kill ourselves all the time.” That’ll cheer him up.’
‘That’s not what he thinks. You’re just taking the p—. What did you want to bring all this up for, JJ? We were going to have a good night out, and now everyone’s all f— depressed.’
‘Yeah,’ said JJ. ‘I’m sorry. I was just wondering, you know. Why we’re all still here.’
‘Thanks,’ said Martin. ‘Thanks for that.’
In the distance we could see the lights on that big wheel down by the river, the London Eye.
‘We don’t have to decide right now, anyway, do we?’ said JJ.
‘Course we don’t,’ said Martin.
‘So how about we give it another six months? See how we’re doing?’
‘Is that thing actually going round?’ said Martin. ‘I can’t tell.’
We stared at it for a long time, trying to work it out. Martin was right. It didn’t look as though it was moving, but it must have been, I suppose.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thanks to: Tony Lacey, Wendy Carlton, Helen Fraser, Susan Petersen, Joanna Prior, Zelda Turner, Eli Horowitz, Mary Cranitch, Caroline Dawnay, Alex Elam, John Hamilton.
