Thoreau had been her favourite philosopher to study. But who seriously goes confidently in the direction of their dreams? Well, apart from Thoreau. He’d gone and lived in the woods, with no contact from the outside world, to just sit there and write and chop wood and fish. But life was probably simpler two centuries ago in Concord, Massachusetts, than modern life in Bedford, Bedfordshire.
Or maybe it wasn’t.
Maybe she was just really crap at it. At life.
Whole hours passed by. She wanted to have a purpose, something to give her a reason to exist. But she had nothing. Not even the small purpose of picking up Mr Banerjee’s medication, as she had done that two days ago. She tried to give a homeless man some money but realised she had no money.
‘Cheer up, love, it might never happen,’ someone said.
Nothing ever did,she thought to herself.That was the whole problem.
Antimatter
Five hours before she decided to die, as she began walking home, her phone vibrated in her hand.
Maybe it was Izzy. Maybe Ravi had told her brother to get in touch.
No.
‘Oh hi, Doreen.’
An agitated voice. ‘Wherewereyou?’
She’d totally forgotten.What time is it?
‘I’ve had a really crap day. I’m so sorry.’
‘We waited outside your flat for an hour.’
‘I can still do Leo’s lesson when I get back. I’ll be five minutes.’
‘Too late. He’s with his dad now for three days.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’
She was a waterfall of apologies. She was drowning in herself.
‘To be honest, Nora, he’s been thinking about giving up altogether.’
‘But he’s so good.’
‘He’s really enjoyed it. But he’s too busy. Exams, mates, football. Something has to give ...’
‘He has a real talent. I’ve got him into bloody Chopin. Please—’
A deep, deep sigh. ‘Bye, Nora.’
Nora imagined the ground opening up, sending her down through the lithosphere, and the mantle, not stopping until she reached the inner core, compressed into a hard unfeeling metal.
*
Four hours before she decided to die, Nora passed her elderly neighbour, Mr Banerjee.
Mr Banerjee was eighty-four years old. He was frail but was slightly more mobile since his hip surgery.
‘It’s terrible out, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ mumbled Nora.
