Inheritance

by Thomas Wymark

  Neil hovered about while I made a coffee. I thought he’d get me the headache tablets, but he didn’t. I got them myself, gave him a look, and plonked down on the sofa.

  He remained standing.

  ‘How are you doing, Chris,’ he said. ‘I mean really. No bullshit.’

  Wow! That was direct.

  ‘I’m fine, Neil.’ I waved my hand in as dismissive a way as I could. ‘Tell me what happened with Michael.’

  Neil’s expression didn’t change. He wasn’t buying the “Michael” gambit.

  ‘I told you,’ he said. ‘Michael was fine. What’s happening with you? I know I didn’t get the full story over dinner. And when I walked in you looked guilty as hell — on your dictionary of all things.’

  I stared straight ahead and pretended to sip my too-hot coffee.

  ‘I’m sorry, Chris, but I had to see what you were looking at. I checked the puzzle book when you were out. Insane isn’t in it!’

  I almost came back at him with “Well you keep coming home late and going to bed early. What the hell is going on there? I had a dream about you, you know. And another woman!”. But this wasn’t the time for that one. He had already told me he had a lot on at work and I knew he would just repeat that again. And he was right. I hadn’t been as honest as I could about my day.

  OK. Let’s see if he could take it.

  I looked him in the eye.

  ‘The only things I didn’t tell you were about the journey from the counsellor’s to Mum and Dad’s,’ I said. ‘And a couple of things that happened when I got home.’

  Still Neil’s expression remained steadfast. A slight eyebrow flicker because he wasn’t sure what was coming next, but nothing more.

  ‘I told you all about the counsellor, all about Mum and Dad and all about the chat with Margaret.’

  Neil nodded.

  ‘And I told you about the talk with Michael, why he was fighting, and that we had a massive tickle afterwards.’

  He nodded again.

  ‘I didn’t tell you I was looking up certain words on my dictionary because I was embarrassed. And scared.’

  ‘Scared of what?’ Neil said.

  ‘Scared of what you might think,’ I said.

  ‘What happened on the journey to your mum and dad’s?’ he said.

  ‘That’s part of the problem,’ I said. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Chris, come on. You have to be honest with me. I can’t be here for you if I don’t know what’s going on.’

  I looked away from him and rubbed my ear.

  ‘That’s what I’m saying, Neil. I lost some time. I set out from the counsellor’s at about midday and I didn’t get to Mum and Dad’s until about 2pm. But I went straight there, as far as I know, and I didn’t realise that I had got there so late. I thought it was about half-twelve.’

  ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying,’ he said. ‘You drove around for a bit, or stopped off or something on the way?’

  ‘I’m not explaining it very well,’ I said. ‘Basically, I had a some sort of a blackout, or something, between the counsellor’s and Mum and Dad’s. But it wasn’t a proper blackout. Although I don’t remember anything about it, I was still driving. According to the fuel-gauge I think I drove about one hundred miles — and I don’t remember any of it.’

  ‘Chris, that doesn’t make any sense. Perhaps you were just thinking about stuff. God knows you’ve got plenty going on to think about. You probably just had your mind on other things. I’ve had that before — where you’re driving and you suddenly become aware that you can’t remember the last few miles. Your mind has just been on other things. I think that’s normal.’

  ‘A few miles, Neil? I can cope with that. But a hundred miles? That’s not normal.’

  Neil clicked his fingers, as though he’d suddenly solved everything.

  ‘You might have a fuel leak,’ he said. ‘I’ll get it checked out.’

  He had a point. I hadn’t considered a leak. That would certainly explain all the missing fuel.

  ‘But what about the missing time? The hour and a half?’

  ‘Maybe you really did fall asleep,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you were mentally exhausted after the counsellor and you pulled over on the way to your mum and dad’s. Perhaps you just don’t remember doing it.’

  I felt stupid. But I also felt like I was right.

  ‘It seemed very real,’ I said. ‘I don’t think I fell asleep.’

  ‘And you said something happened at home?’ he said.

  ‘While I was tickling the kids, I heard a voice. Inside my head, Neil, I heard a voice. It was real and it was definite. It sounded like man’s voice. Or at least a voice that was deeper than mine. It felt like it came from me. Like it was me in some way.’

  ‘A voice? What did it say?’

  ‘I don’t know. I couldn’t make out the words. I also felt immense power and strength going through my arms. I felt incredibly strong.’

  ‘And this was while you were tickling the kids?’ he said.

  I nodded.

  ‘Maybe it was an adrenalin rush. You know — the blood pumping around your body from all the laughing about and tickling. I don’t know what to say about the voice. If you were all laughing and screaming…?’

  ‘Neil, I know what you’re trying to do, and I’m grateful. But these things did all happen. I don’t think they can be just explained away, and I think it’s dangerous to ignore them.’

  ‘Dangerous?’

  ‘I have no idea what is going on inside my head. But every time I try to deal with it or combat it, something else happens. I used to have a degree of control, but at the moment I feel like my control is severely limited.

  ‘I know you’re trying to make me feel better by coming up with explanations for the things that are happening to me, but the truth is, I am slowly losing my mind.’

  ‘But you’re not going insane,’ he said. ‘A knock on the head doesn’t send people insane.’

  ‘Well what the fuck does it do then, doctor Marsden?’

  That changed his expression.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘But I think that you should go and see the doctor again.’

  ‘I’m going to see him in the morning. I’m ringing him first thing.’

  ‘Chris, I’m only saying what I think. I really don’t believe you’re going mad and I don’t think you’re losing control. I do think you are suffering from stress, and that’s completely understandable.’

  He shuffled down next to me on the sofa and sort of wrapped his arms around me. I pulled back and he tried to pull me close.

  I held back some more.

  ‘You’re not going mad, Chris. I guarantee it.’

  I wished I’d stopped to get a bottle of wine on the way home.

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