Suicide Vacation

by Rich Allen

  The noise of three heavy thuds echoed around the flat. The front door. Jack ambled down the stairs in his slippers and noticed the outline of a solitary figure through the stained glass. He manoeuvred around the bicycle and tried to make out the opaque figure. No idea. The key turned with its usual reluctant stiffness before finally shifting the obstinate bolt. The timber frame practically let out a sigh of relief as Jack pulled the brass handle towards him, letting a warm stream of air into the hallway. He poked his head through the opening. Oh God!

  “Hi, Jack.”

  “Rose!” He opened the door fully and his sister approached and gave him a hug.

  “Good to see you, Jack. Sorry it’s been a while – and sorry for just dropping in on you without warning, but I’ve been really worried. I’ve tried calling your mobile but it’s been disconnected, by the sounds of it.”

  Jack released himself from the embrace and looked at his older sister. Her blonde hair was just beginning to show signs of nature’s highlights. “I lost my phone,” he explained. “I wanted to call you on my new one but couldn’t remember your number. Come inside, just watch the bike.”

  “I see you’ve gotten rid of the Mini,” she said as she followed Jack inside. The straps of her handbag wrapped themselves around the handlebars of Jack’s bike, and it took her a moment to untangle them.

  “Yeah, it’s been gone a while now,” Jack shouted down from the top of the stairs.

  Rose followed him up into the flat. “Oh, Jack,” she said, after she’d scanned his barren bedrooms, “what the hell’s happened to all your stuff? I knew something wasn’t right. I said to Brian that I should have come down to seen you sooner. I shouldn’t have let him talk me out of it. You’ve sold everything!”

  “I’m afraid so,” Jack shouted back to her from the kitchen. “Money’s been tighter than a duck’s arse.”

  Rose wandered through the lounge towards the kitchen and Jack could hear her tutting. “Oh Jack, why didn’t you say something? We could have helped.”

  “It’s my problem to sort out, not yours.”

  “Oh, what would mum say if she could see this?” Rose said.

  “Fortunately, she can’t. Look, it’s not as bad as it seems. Believe it or not, but things are actually starting to improve. Let me make you a cup of tea and I can tell you all about it. You still take one sugar?”

  Chapter Thirty:

  Rose sipped her tea as Jack told her about his trip. When he mentioned the word ‘suicide’ he noted the pained expression on her face and the mug shake in her hand. She only just managed to put it down safely and then sat on the step with her hands cupped over her face. Jack sat down beside her and put his arm around her. He told her about his Suicide Vacation; a bespoke version. In this instance, he’d bypassed Barcelona and headed straight to Rome, which is where he met a girl called Zoe who had changed his outlook on life. He returned to Gateshead and received some good news about his book and picked up some cover shifts on the radio station that had binned him a year earlier. No mention of Quint or strange happenings. The pill would be hard enough for his sister to swallow as it was.

  “Oh Jack! I had no idea that you felt like this. I knew you’d taken the breakup with Fiona hard and that money was tight, but you always sounded so upbeat on the phone. I feel so ashamed. I should’ve been here for you.” Rose was crying.

  “Hey c’mon sis. It’s not your fault. Shit happens! I didn’t want to worry you, so I always put on a brave face when you phoned. Anyway, things are better now.”

  “So you’re no longer suicidal?”

  “No, I’m no longer suicidal,” Jack told her. “Look, I probably shouldn’t have told you about the suicide trip, but I’m not ashamed of it. I’d reached rock bottom that’s all.”

  “So, you would have gone through with it if it hadn’t been for this girl, Zoe?” Rose asked.

  “Maybe.”

  Rose cleaned up her face with a hanky. “Well, she must be some girl,” she said.

  “She is. She is,” he repeated. “When do you need to get back by the way?”

  “Sick of me already are you?” Rose smiled at him.

  “Don’t be silly. I was just asking.”

  “I’m back at work Tuesday, so I can leave here Monday morning if you don’t mind me staying. I packed a weekend bag in the boot.”

  “Of course I don’t mind,” Jack said. “But, as you can see for yourself – the place ain’t exactly a palace.”

  “Yeah well, it will be by the time I get to work on it. C’mon, grab your coat – we’re heading out,” Rose told him.

  “Hey, I don’t want you spending lots of money, sis.”

  “Why not? It’s like manure – it needs spreading around.”

  “I thought I did the movie quotes around here.”

  “I didn’t even know that was a movie quote,” she said.

  “Barbra Streisand from Hello Dolly. But seriously sis, I don’t want you splashing out on me. Besides, Brian will go mad if he finds out.”

  “Brian’s an arsehole!”

  Jack laughed. “Yeah, you’re right about that,” he said.

  Rose joined in with the laughter and then they both headed outside to her Golf.

  Two hours later, Jack and Rose were lugging flat packed furniture up his staircase. Jack hoped his sister would be better than him at D.I.Y. In his mind it stood for ‘Don’t Involve Yourself.’ Still, it was only a couple of futons and a TV stand. How difficult could it be? Despite Jack’s protestations, Rose had also purchased a twenty four inch widescreen TV with a built in DVD player. With all that and some bedding and pillows, her outlay had stretched to over four hundred pounds.

  “I promise I’ll pay you back,” Jack said as he deposited a futon inside the lounge.

  “Don’t be daft. I’ve told you – this lot’s on me. We’re family Jack. This is what family do. They look out for one another.”

  Jack had forgotten how much fun it could be, just spending time with his sister. He heard Marlon Brando’s voice from The Godfather: “A man who doesn’t spend time with his family can never be a real man.” Damn right, Don Corleone.

  “Well, thanks anyway sis. I really do appreciate all this.”

  “We haven’t put any of it together yet. You ever put one of these up?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  Four hours and a great deal of stress later and Jack and Rose had completed their D.I.Y mission. ‘Never again’ had been Rose’s footnote to the proceedings. She sat on an upright futon, watching Jack tune in the TV. It took him a while, but eventually sound and vision pervaded his lounge. He curled up on the other futon and counted his blessings. Rose had been like a guardian angel.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Starving. Is that Chinese place around the corner any good?”

  “Oh yeah! I’ve got a menu around here somewhere,” he said.

  Jack ordered over the phone then headed out alone to pick up the Banquet for Two. As he closed the front door, his phone came alive with the intro to Mysterious Ways. Yes! Zoe’s name popped up on the caller display.

  “Hey gorgeous,” he answered.

  “Hi babe, how’s it all going?”

  “Good thanks. My sister just turned up out of the blue this morning. It’s been ages since I’ve seen her. We’ve been out shopping and stuff.”

  “Oh that’s great. How is she?”

  “Yeah she’s good thanks. I think she’s staying until Monday. So what’s cooking over at your end? Your mum still doing well?”

  “Yeah she’s feeling so much better now,” Zoe said. “In fact she feels well enough to travel tomorrow so that’s what we’re hoping to do.”

  Jack felt a bit taken a back. “Oh right. So you’re leaving tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, if I can sort out the tickets. I think Mom and Pop really want to get back home as soon as possible. I don’t think they trust the doctors out here to be honest.”

  “Well I guess I can’t blame them for w
anting to get home,” Jack said. “So long as your mum is up to it – I mean that’s the main thing isn’t it?”

  “Mom is tough. It’ll take more than a minor heart attack to knock the old bird off her perch.”

  Jack laughed as he walked towards the end of the street. “So, no chance of your flight stopping off at Newcastle then?” he asked.

  It was Zoe’s turn to laugh this time. “Y’ know I’d really love that. I really would. If I didn’t have my folks to worry about then I’d be there like a shot. Having said that – Pop is a real star and I’m sure he could cope without me. To be honest, he’s been the one who’s held the show together, not me. It’s just a shame that our flight doesn’t go via Newcastle.”

  Jack had made it to the Chinese. “Order for Holden,” he said to the girl behind the counter.

  “What was that?” Zoe asked.

  “Oh, sorry. I’m just picking up some Chinese food for Rose and me.”

  “Hey, sounds good. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know what my plans are. And I wanted to say that I’d like to come and visit you after I’ve finished my studies. Would that be ok?”

  Jack handed over the exact change and smiled at the girl behind the counter. “Yeah, that sounds great. Really great,” he said as he picked up the small white carrier bag.

  “Good, I’m glad. Of course you could come over to see me in the States but I know how tight money is at the moment.”

  Jack opened the door and headed out onto the street. “Yeah, thanks for the offer though. You coming over here sounds wonderful. Can’t wait to see you again,” he said.

  “Me too, Jack. Well, listen, I may not get chance to call you before I get the plane home, but I promise I’ll call when we’re back in California. Love you.”

  Jack’s heart ballooned when he heard those two words. “Love you too,” he whispered into the handset.

  When Zoe hung up, Jack felt a solitary tear rolling down his cheek. He pulled the phone out of the way before the two met. She loved him. This beautiful, wonderful, kind, funny girl. She actually loved Jack Holden – a total loser. He knew that he didn’t deserve her. In short, she was too bloody good for him. It felt like providence had finally tapped him on the shoulder and said ‘There you are Jack Holden! I’ve been looking for you.”

  He walked back into his flat and found Rose half asleep on a futon, though the smell of the Chinese banquet seemed to revive her.

  “I just spoke to Zoe on the phone,” he said as he plated up the food. “She wants to come over here after she’s finished chiropody school in a couple of months’ time.”

  “Oh right,” Rose sounded groggy. “Well, I hope it all works out between you. You know it’s going to be bloody difficult though don’t you? I mean you over here and her living in the States.”

  Jack handed his sister a plate of spring rolls. “Sis - if you want something, nothing is impossible.”

  Chapter Thirty One:

  It felt odd to Jack; sleeping in the same room as his sister. He’d not done that since he was knee high to a grasshopper.

  “I see you still bloody snore then!” Rose had said to him the next morning.

  “Must’ve been the red wine,” he’d replied. The two of them had tucked into the food and drink whilst Carry On Matron played on the TV. It had been years since he’d seen a Carry On film. Some moments had made Jack laugh out loud; like the scene with Hattie Jacques as Matron and Kenneth Williams as Sir Bernard Cutting: ‘I’m a simple woman with simple tastes and I want to be wooed,’ said Matron. ‘Ooh you can be as wude as you like with me,” Kenny Williams replied with signature hyperbole.

  The Carry On character names always tickled Jack. Whilst watching the movie, he’d tried to remember the really good ones: Doctor Prod, Vic Flange, Josh Fiddler, Doctor Carver and Nurse Willing came to mind. Watching the Carry On film had definitely lifted his spirits – perhaps he should watch them more often.

  As Jack showered, he thought about Zoe. She’d be on a plane to California later today. He wanted to be near her, to feel the touch of her hair on his shoulder, to look into her eyes and fall into their cool azure waters. It crossed his mind that she might forget about him when she got back home. She’d have her friends and family and of course her studies. Why should she bother with some crazy Brit? Not for the first time, he felt like he didn’t deserve her love.

  Rose got a shower after Jack and it was nearly midday by the time they were both dressed and groomed.

  “Fancy heading in to town for some lunch?” Rose asked him.

  “Yeah, that sounds good. As you know I’m skint, but I’ll treat you to some junk food if you like,” he said.

  “Look, Jack, don’t worry about money. Listen, I want you to take this.” She handed over a piece of paper which he grabbed and inspected.

  “Whoa! I can’t accept this. A cheque for two grand!”

  “No arguments. I want you to have it.”

  “But what about Brian? It’s his money as well!” Jack said.

  “Brian already knows. He wasn’t over the moon, but like I said – he’s an arsehole!”

  Jack laughed. “I don’t know what to say, sis.” He went over and gave her a big hug. “Thank you.”

  “Just get your life back on track, Jack. That’ll be the biggest thank you of all.”

  They got the Metro into town and ate at Ninos Chicken Palace. The hit of the extra strong peri peri sauce turned Jack’s mouth into a volcano, but he loved every morsel of his chicken lunch.

  After he’d banked the cheque, they wandered past the jewel in the crown of Newcastle’s arts scene: the Tyneside Cinema. A renovated Art Deco building, it had long been an art house cinema of style and distinction. Jack couldn’t remember the last film he’d seen there.

  According to the poster outside, this week, alongside several new releases, they were showing classic movies which had been selected by their patrons. Jack’s eyes scanned the list of films he’d already missed: Blade Runner, Back to the Future, The Godfather, Dirty Dancing and Dune. What about today? No way! You’re kidding me. There it was in black and white: 3pm. He read the accompanying spiel. “The film that made us all stay out of the water.” Jack smiled as he double checked the date on the poster.

  “Hey, Rose. Fancy seeing a film?”

  They sat down in the plush surroundings of the Classic Circle and waited for the movie to start. Jack knew Rose hadn’t been bothered about watching it, but she’d obviously noted his eagerness. He couldn’t believe that she’d never seen Jaws before. As they sat through the ads and trailers, his thoughts turned to Zoe. She’d be on a plane home in a few hours. He checked to see if she’d texted him, but there were no new messages on his phone.

  The film began and Jack sank back into the comfy chair. It was a privilege to watch great movies in all their cinematic glory. A chill ran through Jack’s body when Quint came on. ‘Y'all know me. Know how I earn a livin'. I'll catch this bird for you, but it ain't gonna be easy. Bad fish. Not like going down the pond chasin' bluegills and tommycods. This shark, swallow you whole. Little shakin', little tenderizin', an' down you go. And we gotta do it quick, that'll bring back your tourists, put all your businesses on a payin' basis. But it's not gonna be pleasant. I value my neck a lot more than three thousand bucks, chief.’

  Jack smiled. He wanted to share his Quint story with Rose but realized that he couldn’t. She’d think he’d gone raving mad.

  Jack felt on a high after the film. It had to be more than just coincidence that Jaws happened to be showing at the cinema. Even Rose waxed lyrical about the movie. “I really enjoyed it,” she said, “apart from the captain getting swallowed. That was a bit too gory for me.”

  “That was the edited version of Quint’s death scene,” Jack replied. “The original version was much longer and much messier. Anyway, I’m glad you enjoyed it, sis.”

  They had a drink in town then headed back to Jack’s flat. Still no word from Zoe, though. Well, she’d be on the plane heading o
ver the Atlantic, Jack realized. Rose rustled them up some pasta and told him about her marriage to Brian. Apparently he wasn’t a very attentive lover. Jack didn’t need to know that, but the wine seemed to have loosened his sister’s tongue. ‘I just wish he’d be more demonstrative,” she said. Jack almost felt sorry for Brian. The guy was a bit of an arsehole, but then Rose could be pretty high maintenance herself.

  They transformed the sofas into futons just before Saturday night became Sunday morning. This time, Rose opted for the privacy of sleeping in Jack’s bedroom. It was either that, or she couldn’t stand listening to any more of his snoring. Jack checked his phone before turning in. No new messages. As he lay on the futon inside the lounge, with the rapid gun fire of Call of Duty blearing up from the flat below, his thoughts turned to Monday morning. He’d not even read the show notes yet. He needed a good performance for his radio comeback. He thought of Elvis - written off prior to his ’68 Comeback Special. Before he drifted off, Jack’s last thoughts of consciousness were of The King, dressed in white, stood in front of ten foot high neon lights which spelt out his name.