Page 10 of Conflict

The frustration manifests itself as a growl when I throw my phone back onto the bedside table. I turn onto my side and snuggle down under the covers as I curl up into a ball. “Fuck you, Jay.” My eyes screw tightly shut as I begin the box breathing technique my doctor talked me through last week. It was supposed to help me focus and calm the huge knot of anxiety that has become a permanent resident in the pit of my stomach. I’d wanted medication, something to numb the chaos that coursed through my body morning, noon and night. But nope, medication isn’t the answer apparently. According to the powers that be, I have to learn to work through the grief and make sense of it. “You have to feel your pain and loneliness in order to move forward, Scarlett.” She’d told me. Some fucking chance of that if Jamie carries on being a knobhead. How am I supposed to deal with my own pain when all I can feel now is the panic and abhorrent fear that he may get his wish and endup dead too. A lone tear manages to force its way through my screwed-up eyelids and rolls down my cheek, finding its way to my pillow. Instead of wiping it away, I allow it to stain my skin. Maybe that counts as feeling my pain.

After what seems like hours of trying to fall asleep, I give in. Stepping underneath the water that cascades from the shower head feels like a moment of calm within the storm. As the scalding needles of water hit my skin, I allow my muscles to relax and exhale all the anguish I’ve allowed to build within me. Today is another day. One that I hope won’t get the better of me again. When I open the bathroom door, with a towel wrapped tightly around my body, the smell of bacon attacks my nostrils and my stomach lets out a tormented growl. The only other person that will be awake this early is my dad. I drag a brush through my hair and pull it up into a rough bun on the top my head, then pull on leggings and a sweatshirt before making my way down to the kitchen.

“Good morning, darling. How are you feeling?” Dad slides a bacon sandwich across the counter in my direction as I perch on a barstool. Moving around the breakfast bar, Dad climbs onto the stool beside me and sips on his morning cup of tea. “You know you can’t fix him, don’t you? This is something he has to figure of for himself, I’m afraid.”

“I know, but I can’t abandon him. It’s Jay. My Jay; our Jamie,” I bite into my sandwich and chew slowly, savouring the taste. “He’s been a part of my life forever and I can’t let him throw everything away because he feels guilty, he’s still with us and Tom isn’t,” I feel Dad tense beside me.

“Nobody said to abandon him, Scarlett. All I meant was that he has to want it too.” He reaches across the small distance between us and grasps my hand in his. “He’s strong. He’ll find his way.” Dad pushes his stool away from the bar, collecting his cup as he does. “All we can do is support him through this.”

“If he’ll let me,” I finish my sandwich and drink the last mouthful of tea from the bottom of my cup. My phone screen lights up as it vibrates on the counter. Apprehensively, I unlock the screen, hoping with everything I have it’s Jamie, responding to my messages finally. No such luck. It’s a phone call from Pat.

“Morning sweetie, hope you got some sleep. I’ve spoken to Jamie, he doesn’t want me to go over today either but at least he’s answering his phone.”

Pat’s words swim in front of my eyes. Why wouldn’t he answer my messages? The hurt he is causing me is indescribable. Never before have I felt this alone, and unimportant. “That’s great news,” with every fibre of my being I try to sound pleased for her, but I know my tone gives me away.

“He’s not spoken to you, has he? Oh Scarlett, I’m so sorry. I’m so angry with him but what can I do? If we push too hard, he’ll shut us both down again.”

“No, no it’s fine. He’s talking to you and that’s more important. I’ll try again later,” I hope my fake smile makes my words sound more convincing.

“I’m ringing him again in an hour, Charlie said he will try ringing him later tonight, but I know he won’t answer his brother. They hardly speak as it is. Right, I’ll update you later.” We say our goodbyes and Pat hangs up, leaving me alone with my thoughts as I hold my head in my hands. Dad is at my side before I have time to reassess. His strong arms wrap around me, squeezing me tightly. There are no words passed between us, there isn’t any need. He knows I won’t listen and I know I can’t form the words the situation requires.

With a parting kiss to the top of my head, Dad leaves me to wallow in the kitchen. There is only one thing for it; if he won’t take my calls, he’ll have to see me instead. I know I’ve convinced Pat to give him space but he’s left me no option. This is all on him now.

In the hallway I slip my feet into my trainers that live by the door. “I’m going out,” I shout upstairs in the direction of my parent’s bedroom.

CHAPTER 14

JAMIE

The voice of the weather girl on TV drags me from the depths of sleep. I couldn’t bring myself to sleep in the bedroom last night. The intention had been there but when I opened the door only to be confronted by the makeshift noose it became a firm no. After a contemplative minute, I’d grabbed a pillow and headed back to the safety of the sofa. Mum’s last call was just after midnight, her voice had been fraught with anguish as she realised it was impossible for her to ring me hourly overnight. I ended up having to facetime her instead; to prove I was settled on the sofa without a pill or alcohol in sight. Every muscle in my body aches from being unable to stretch out in my sleep and the loud knocking on the door isn’t doing anything to improve my mood. The newsreader informs me it’s just after seven thirty in the morning, and the door knocking continues. I know it isn’t Mum, I’ve convinced her not to come over for a few days. That means it can only be Scarlett. And I really am not in the mood for Scarlett.

My phoned pings, alerting me to a new message.

Morning, I can hear the TV so you either left it on for company or you’re awake and avoiding me. I have Starbucks and pastries.

As much as I could murder a coffee right now, the likelihood is that I’d end up upsetting Scarlett if I open that door, and trust me, that’s the last thing I want to do. Pushing up from the sofa, I head over to put the kettle on, pick a cup and drop in a teaspoon of coffee. Not quite Starbucks but it would hit the spot. As I wait for the water to boil, Scarlett texts again.

Your coffee is going cold and you’re in real danger of me eating your Danish. It’s the apricot one that you like.

Tempting as it sounds, it still comes with a side order of Scarlett. I drop two slices of bread into the toaster instead, before I fill my cup with boiling water and a splash of milk. With my toast buttered and coffee made, I head back to the sofa to enjoy it. I feel a little guilty at leaving Scarlett outside but I really can’t face seeing anyone right now. I pick up my phone and tap out a message.

Thanks, but can we do breakfast another day? I’m waiting on a call from the Welfare Officer.

That is a lie but I know Scarlett won’t challenge me on anything to do with my job. I let out a small laugh; my job. I can’t seem to imagine ever going back, which shocks me because the Army is my life, it’s who I am to the core. Panic rises within me again; I can hear the blood rushing around my ears and everything suddenly seems to feel overwhelming and fearful. I’ve had a few emails and messages from my sergeant and evenone email from my captain asking me to get in touch once I felt ready. I’ve ignored them up until now, but no doubt my recent hospital admission has been disclosed to my squadron leader. I won’t be able to avoid having a conversation with them for much longer.

I suppose so. I’ll leave your coffee out here for you, but I’ve eaten your Danish. Snooze, you lose!

That made me smile ever so slightly. It was typical Scarlett behaviour. I don’t think we’ve ever shared a meal where she hasn’t eaten half of whatever I’ve ordered.

Okay, I’m leaving now, but in the words of Arnie, I’ll be back.

I don’t doubt that for a minute, but at least I’ve bought myself some time. After a reasonable amount of time has lapsed, I open the front door and claim the coffee Scarlett has left for me. I place it on the counter and take a photo, then send it in a message to her.

Thanks for the coffee, next time you need to remember I only drink the blonde roast

Immediately the three dots appear on the screen, bouncing as she types out her response.

Who are you and what have you done with my Jay? Blonde roast, as if!

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