Fur Coat No Knickers

by C. B. Martin

  ‘Siobhan! Did you get my tablets?!’ I snarled through gritted teeth.

  ‘Wait, wait, wait,’ says Siobhan, doubled up in hysterics. ‘I threw me thong to the floor and spread me legs, guiding him in like. It was fookin’ great. I was lying there, with me legs practically wrapped round his neck, pretending it was me first time and that I was frightened. Meanwhile, while his head was in me crotch, I was waving me middle finger at the sour old bitch in the corner. It was fookin’ great. Oh yeah, I forgot to ask for your tablets. Sorry… but, if you want cheerin’ up, go and have your fanjita inspected. It’s far better than any pills, I’ll tell you that for nothing.’

  ‘FOR FUCK’S SAKE!’ I raged at her. ‘What the hell am I going to do now? All I asked was for you to do one simple thing for me, Siobhan. Just go and ask for some bloody pills. That was it. But you can’t even do that!’

  ‘Oh right, well sorry for having a laugh,’ Siobhan said, looking genuinely hurt by my outburst. ‘Well I can pop down to the offie for you and pick up some brandy. Few of those will knock you right out.’

  ‘No,’ I signed, completely exasperated, ‘I don’t want a drink. It keeps me awake. You really don’t understand. I needed those tablets like you would not believe.’ God, I felt like punching her. My whole being was shaking in temper.

  ‘You’re not addicted to these pills are you?’ Siobhan asked looking more concerned than ever.

  ‘Don’t be stupid!’ I hissed, squeezing my eyes tight and gritting my teeth in pure frustration. ‘I just need to get a good night’s sleep, that’s all.’

  ‘Are you sure now? Because you don't look or sound so good.’

  ‘Please, stop asking silly questions. It’s purely the lack of sleep… I’m fine.’

  With that, I abruptly shoved her out the door and locked it. If my doctor and my friends can’t help me, then surely the internet could.

  After a few days spent glued to my bed in my own private hell, my supply of internet-sourced numbness arrived. Hallelujah.

  After catching up on my dosage, I drifted in and out of dizzy spells and restless, foggy thoughts.

  Everything became grossly distorted. My brain was spiralling at an incredible rate. I was helpless to put the brakes on. It felt like I was suffocating. No, it was much worse… like I was being squeezed to death.

  On-and-on I plunged, ever further down within myself towards the bottom of the deepest, darkest ocean, all the while being tossed brutally around by cruel forces and relentless currents. Every time I opened my eyes, it seemed as though everything was closing in on me. The ceiling, floor and walls were haunting as they swayed backwards and forwards.

  I tried to get up out of bed, to go downstairs and get more sleeping tablets - my legs gave way completely. As I tumbled to the floor, I reached out to grab something – anything – and as I did, I came crashing down, along with the curtain rail.

  I lay in the foetal position for what felt like hours, gripping myself tight and gasping for air. Somehow, eventually I crawled out, pushing my way through a mass of crap in my path to the top of the stairway. I placed my hands over my ears and begged the ringing sounds to stop. Blood was seeping from my head.

  Unable to catch my breath, or hold myself steady, I began to bum-shuffle down the stairs. My mind was in fast-forward, playing pictures of the past, present and future, all flashing like sirens around and around. My dad drinking, mum sobbing as she goes to mass, priests and images of the cross, bullies and cruel school teachers, Katie screaming, Laura laughing, Travis grinning with his newborn baby. I begged my head to stop the incessant thoughts and began retching with each step down.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I crawled over to lean against the kitchen door. I pulled up my knees and cradled myself tight. Please, please God, help me. Make this stop.

  Every inch of me was juddering. I tried clutching my hands over various body parts to make it stop - no use. I could hear the inside of my mind screaming. I couldn't control anything. I was spiraling, deeper and deeper down. My jaw started to chatter and my eyes began twitching. I couldn’t anchor myself. I didn’t have the power. I didn’t have the will. The depths of my very being ached. My soul was tortured and tormented. I was consumed by dark black thoughts of pointlessness. I was going down.

  Then, suddenly, a blanket of complete calmness washed over me. I realised with utter certainty that death was the only way I could escape this pain.

  I didn’t want to be here anymore. I grabbed a pen and began scribbling desperate last instructions on the wall and emptied the remaining supply of the internet-sourced pills down my throat. Reasons to live: … none.

  Then everything went dark.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I am alone, shivering in the dark. My neck and shoulders are throbbing but I lay still. I am paralysed with fear.

  Scared of what might happen if I open them, I clamp my eyes shut as flashes of terrifying feelings flood through me. I begin to wonder if I have been buried alive. Even so, I dare not move. I fear feeling the coffin around me.

  My whole being was dominated by the deafening drum of my heart, banging so violently it could burst through my chest. It’s agony. My ears are ringing with the sound of the blood rushing and gurgling around my body. Everything is pulsating.

  I try to clear my constricted throat and I hear a small whimper in the distance. I realise with a start… it’s me whimpering. An involuntary sob escapes my throat.

  ‘Hello, you,’ said a kind voice. I recognize it immediately - Laura.

  I become aware of a soft light turned on beside me. Even though it generates barely a glow, it hurts my eyes. I quickly raise my hand over my eyes to protect them.

  ‘Back with us, then?’ she presses with a gentle tone that throws me slightly.

  I don’t answer. I’m swamped with an overwhelmingly intense confusion. I can’t find any words.

  ‘Okay, so do you really want to die from terminal disappointment?’ her voice, now back to the Laura that I know.

  I gulp hard as the tears stream uncontrollably from me. Turning onto one side, I pull my knees up to my chest and scream so loud I even shock myself.

  ‘Good girl, let it all out,’ Laura said encouragingly and pulled me into her with force.

  ‘Please don’t let go of me,’ I begged in a hoarse whisper. ‘Please, don’t let go…’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. We're all here for you. We’ve sat with you all night. Mum’s been here with Katie. We all flew in yesterday after receiving a distraught call from Siobhan.’

  ‘I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.’

  Laura hushed me gently and continued cradling me.

  ‘What’s happened to me?’ I sobbed, completely exhausted. ‘Have I gone mad?’

  ‘You took an overdose. Siobhan and I have had a chat and we think you’ve had a breakdown. But you will get better, I promise. There’s a limit to us all and there’s a limit to how much you can cope with too. You have just reached your limit. You’re not going mad. You’re just at the end of your tether.’

  I released myself from Laura’s tight hold but continued gripping her shoulders.

  ‘Can I be fixed?’ I ask, opening my eyes fully for the first time. In shock, I realised I was in hospital. Seeing Laura’s concerned face, I promptly broke into floods of tears again.

  ‘Listen… my reputation’s at stake here. We can work through this; slowly and together. If I can’t help my own sister, then I’m not much of a psychotherapist, am I?’

  I closed my eyes and shook my head, already feeling defeated.

  ‘I’m just so tired.’

  ‘Yes, well, I am not surprised,’ interrupted Laura as she opened the curtains, filling the room with blinding light, ‘your stomach has been pumped within an inch of its life.’

  The horrific pictures in my head flashed back. My stomach churned.

  ‘Do you even remember going to the hospital in the ambulance?’ Laura asked, poker-faced as she settled back down be
side my bed.

  I shrugged feeling slightly ashamed.

  ‘It’s all a bit of a blank.’

  ‘Hmm… poor Siobhan found you at the bottom of the stairs.’

  ‘I…’

  ‘She thought you were dead, Tara.’ Laura interrupted sharply. ‘She said she only came back because she felt so damn guilty for not getting you the sleeping pills that you begged her for. She’d had no end of trouble persuading the doctor to prescribe her some. She said something about being forced to change surgery because her doctor refused to be left alone in a room with her any more. Does any of this ring any bells?

  Anyway - if she hadn’t have come back with those bloody pills and broken in when she didn’t get an answer, God knows where we’d be now.’

  ‘Oh God… I’m sorry to have been such a trouble to everyone. What have I done? Will they ever forgive me?’

  ‘Your friends know you’re okay. They’re a resilient lot. Meanwhile, you've also had quite a few packages arrive that you bought off the internet. You could open a feckin’ pharmacy with the amount of pills you were buying. What on earth were you thinking of?’

  I shrugged, keeping my hands over my burning face. I just really wanted Laura to bloody go away.

  ‘Sleeping tablets via the net?’ Laura eyed me sternly. ‘Deadly concoctions, the lot of them, but I guess you knew that.’

  I hung my head in shame, my mouth completely dry.

  ‘Doctors had to fight for your life… do you understand?!’

  I nodded.

  ‘Your doctor and I had a meeting. After reading your medical notes, he’s more than a little concerned, as am I. The surgery said you’ve cancelled countless therapist appointments. Why?’

  ‘They couldn't fix me,’ I shrugged helplessly.

  ‘Your relationship with Travis seems to have brought on totally obsessive irrational thoughts and behaviour. You became completely fixated on something that could only really be described as a virtual relationship. You are fixable, but only if you want to be,’ she dictated. ‘This isn’t normally recommended, but I’ve convinced your doctor to allow me to counsel you,’ she said, suddenly becoming very animated. ‘He did express some concerns that, as I’m your sister, I won’t know when to pull back and when to push.’

  I sighed hard, wishing I had never woken up.

  Laura ignored my reaction and carried on; ‘I have given him my word that I will look after you, but you have to promise me you won’t take anything without me knowing what it is. In fact, all medication has been removed from your whereabouts.’

  I wrenched my head back and let out a moan to the skies (or, more likely, asbestos hospital ceiling), coming to terms with the fact that I couldn’t get my hands on more drugs even if I tried. They might as well lock me up and throw away the key.

  ‘Tara, they were about to admit you into a psychiatric unit... Do you understand what that means?’

  ‘Yes... I do, okay?’ I tutted, eyeing her coldly, ‘you’ve made your point - lecture over. Lower your voice, Laura. I just need a little painkiller for my head.’

  ‘NO! For God’s sake, Tara. You’re unbelievable.’

  Then Laura checked herself and reverted back to her calmer voice. ‘You can’t have anything. Your body still has toxins in it. I’m waiting for the doctor to pop by to chat with you and hopefully sign you off. He’s writing you a prescription for some antidepressants that I will be administering to you. Then, we will get you back home.’

  I didn’t argue. I couldn’t be bothered. Part of me wanted to launch into a full ‘mind-your-own-fucking-business’ verbal attack, but whatever I was feeling stayed trapped inside. I had nothing left to give. I felt tangled and twisted. Every vein in my body was leaking pain and confusion. Dark feelings and raw emotions still rolled over every inch of me. Surely it’s was easier to be dead than alive, I thought, as I slowly turned to face the wall.

  God, I am such a screw-up. I was and always will be a failure on so many levels. I couldn't even manage a simple task of suicide.

  I came home the following day. I was ushered straight to bed and left alone while my mum and sisters presumably tried to tackle the devastation I had left downstairs. It looked like I had been burgled.

  ‘Today is the first day of the rest of your life,’ Laura chanted when she burst into my bedroom, presumably on the next stage of Operation Muck-Out. She continued to chat away happily whilst picking up the debris from my bedroom floor.

  ‘Lay down till we get some food inside you,’ insisted Laura, as I attempted to get out of bed. ‘Mum and Katie will be up in a minute. They've gone to get some provisions in. Now you’ve had some rest, there are things we need to talk through. Things that have happened, that I’m almost sure you’re unaware of.’

  I cupped my throbbing throat, vaguely remembering that awful rubber tube going down into my stomach. The thought made me shudder. I couldn’t imagine anything happening in the recent past that was any worse than that.

  ‘Did you know your Salon has closed till further notice?’ Asked Laura, settling gingerly on the edge of the rubbish-strewn bed, her face filled with concern.

  ‘Really?’ I countered, pretending to give a shit (when I really couldn't have cared less).

  With a barely discernible tut, Laura got up to leave my bedroom,

  ‘I’m putting the kettle on,’ she called back over her shoulder. I slouched back down into the bed, wearily pulling the duvet around me. I wasn’t quite sure how I was feeling, but the words ‘unbearable’ and ‘miserable’ came to mind.

  Hearing the kettle boiling downstairs felt strangely comforting. It was nice to know someone was here with me, even if it was Laura. To be fair, I knew deep down she was the best person to have by my side. Well, that’s if I did really want to live. The trouble was, one minute I did - the next I didn't.

  My eyes searched around my bedroom. Everything felt so strange. My recent memories were all jumbled together - it was impossible to make sense of them all. I knew bad things and bad feelings had taken place in this room. I had spent so much time in here, counting cobwebs, looking at cracks in the ceiling and studying anything around me to take away the pain and grief.

  I caught my breath as my eyes settled on the fur coat laying redundant, half-on and half-off my chair. The half trailing on the floor was grubby with dust and grime. I hated that coat. I despised the very sight of it. I closed my eyes to shut out the offending sight and turned away.

  My attention was caught by the sound of Laura chatting on the phone downstairs, I needed the toilet badly. As weak as I was, I’d have to try to get up. As I pushed the duvet off me, the stale smell of my bedding hit me. I also became aware for the first time there was an array of crap littered all over my bed. Clothes, notebooks, makeup boxes and a selection of self-help books were strewn about everywhere. I shook my head in disbelief. Then, I gasped as I spied the snapped heels of my precious Louboutins. Four of them. Snatching them up, I tucked them quickly under my once pure white pillow with utter shame. All four pairs? I had no idea where the remains of the shoes were.

  I didn’t want Laura to see this, or anyone else for that matter. I eased my legs around to the side of bed, suddenly desperate to find the rest of the shoes. I couldn’t see them anywhere though.

  I was interrupted in my search by the sound of Laura coming up the stairs. I leapt quickly to my feet, but light-headedness instantly engulfed me. Dizzily, I tottered to the chest of draws and clung to it for support. Slowly, I began to make my way to the bathroom; using the walls as support, my eyes searching the floors as I went. I finally reached my goal and flopped down onto the toilet, trembling. I hung my head down in my hands, unable to find the strength to keep it upright.

  ‘Here’s your tea, Tara,’ called Laura from the bedroom. ‘Your bread is growing the next best antibiotic known to man.’

  I sobbed quietly to myself, unable to move.

  ‘Go away, just for a minute. Please, I beg you.’

  Before I kn
ew it, Laura was in the bathroom with me crouched down and holding me once again.

  ‘Tara… come on… back to bed, you need food and fluid…’

  I sighed heavily as I looked up and caught sight of Laura’s watering eyes. I don’t think I’d ever seen Laura cry before. I was completely and utterly thrown by her sadness. Maybe she is human after all, I thought.

  ‘My bed smells awful, I can’t get back in there,’ I said, raising a slight smile as she walked me back to my bedroom. My breathing was now slowly coming back to a bearable pace.

  ‘Hmm, that I agree with,’ Laura said, wrinkling her nose as she eased me down onto my bedroom chair, having deftly dropped the fur coat to the floor unceremoniously.

  ‘There should be some clean covers in the airing cupboard,’ I said, still stunned by her tears. I watched Laura begin to efficiently strip my dirty, fake-tan-covered bedding. Before I knew it, Laura had thrown that bastard fur coat over me. I pushed it away as though it was poison.

  ‘I see you've been giving that fur coat a haircut,’ Laura pointed out as she struggled with the duvet. ‘The arm of it is downstairs.’

  ‘Oh God,’ I sighed, rolling my eyes, cringing at the thought.

  I watched wordlessly as Laura tossed the heels out from under my pillow. She said nothing though; she just turned and stared at me for a few moments. I wish she wouldn't do that. Within a few seconds she was back, perfecting her hospital corners.

  ‘In!’ commanded Laura, escorting me back to bed.

  ‘Laura, he’s, he’s… having a baby,’ I sobbed. Just saying the words hit me like a ton of bricks. ‘And she’s… only a baby herself. And I’ve gone into the menopause too. Me… me - in the menopause!’