Pack Up the Moon by Anna McPartlin Read Free Book Online Page A

gagged.
    “You’ve turned into Shane McGowan!”
    She cleaned her shoe as best she could and closed the
    door as she left the bathroom. She approached him slowly, afraid to make any sudden moves. When she eventually reached him he didn’t stir. She knelt a safe distance in front of him, afraid to reach out, and slowly she attempted to make contact.
    “Sean … Sean … Sean …”
    Nothing.
    “It’s me, Jackie,” she said, nodding and pointing to her own face.
    “I know who you are. I’m not blind,” he drawled, concentrating on the floor.
    “So look at me,” she challenged.
    He didn’t want to. He couldn’t remember ever giving her keys and he was annoyed at himself. He didn’t even really know her.
    “Go away.”
    “I know you lost your friend, but this is ridiculous.” She was pointing around the room and it made him dizzy.
     
    “So leave,” he managed, before sinking further into The Lotus.
    “I’ll leave when you shower, change your clothes and dump those fucking bottles.”
    Her intervention was not welcome.
    “Just go,” he pleaded.
     
    “I can’t.”
     
    “Get out of here,” he moaned.
    She wasn’t budging. He used all the strength he could
    muster to be as threatening as he possibly could be.
     
    “Get the fuck out of my house! I don’t want you. I
    have nothing to say to you. I don’t even like you.” He picked up a bottle and swallowed the dregs. “You’re just upset,” she said calmly as she stood up to
    regain some power. “You’re just drunk.”
    He looked up at her glassily, sneering at this stranger, who on reflection was not even that attractive. If she didn’t want to leave he’d make her want to.
    “I am drunk and you’re a whore.” He lit another cigarette, satisfied she would be soon gone.
    “You fucking asshole,” she observed. “You’re the flicking whore. You’re the one can’t make a relationship work, so don’t put your fucking shit on me,”
    He didn’t care enough to answer.
    Tears were spilling from her eyes. “I wanted this to work but it takes two.” She was moving to the door.
    “Haven’t you forgotten something?” he said, closing his eyes, relieved.
    She turned and looked around, confused.
     
    “My keys.”
    She threw them on the glass table, knocking a can full
     
    of sodden butts onto the floor. He didn’t look at her again. She left, slamming the door. He opened his eyes and the tears that had refused to come for so long ran
    freely.
    Acceptance
    Anne and Richard suffered like the rest of us. They felt disbelief, anger, depression and guilt but they also had each other and in one another they retained the security
    and hope that the rest of us had lost. When Richard felt overwhelmed, Anne was right by his side. When Anne found it unbearable, Richard was holding her tight. They missed their friend but thanked God they had one another.
    One week after their inheritance party they sat together
    on their couch holding on to one another and watching
    John make his groomsman speech at their wedding. He was tugging at his tie and grinning while his hands
    involuntarily shuffled telegrams.
    “I’m not going to keep you long …” A pause. He grinned. “Unlike Anne’s ma.”
    The assembled guests laughed on cue. The cameraman panned to Anne’s mother laughing and feigning
    embarrassment while mouthing, “Oh stop!”
    The action over, the cameraman returned to the speaker. “I’m just going to read a few greetings from people
    who didn’t care enough to come.”
    Again the guests laughed. Anne in her wedding dress was smiling widely. Richard was wiping his eyes, grinning at his new wife.
    Four years later Anne was watching her dead friend on
    screen and crying in the arms of her husband. They held
     
    each other, watching John as he lined up to kiss the bride, laughing and making smacking noises with his lips. Waving them off, hugging them and spinning them around, intoxicated by their joy. They cried but they laughed too.