PLAYING WITH CHARACTERS

Image from here

After I had written this story about a woman leaving home after a row with her husband, I decided to think about what her husband would be doing while she sat on a train to London and ended up with Kev's Story below. I find it useful to play with characters like this and it will help me to amend and rewrite The Rings and finely tune the character of Jackie and what the story is about.

KEV'S STORY

Kev moved in to the mirror to get a better view of his nose. It was sore. Dried blood crusted around the edges of his left nostril and there was redness turning blue on the bridge. He opened the cabinet door. Inside was stacked with her body cream, potions and sprays.
He wondered why there had to be so much of this damn crap! It’s not as if she’s going to miraculously become 20 overnight and she looks fine as she is. They could hold a bloody car boot sale there was so much of it this shit that the kids bought her each birthday, Mother's Day and Christmas which she dutifully slapped on parts of her body both seen and unseen but mostly her face in a bid to iron out the wrinkles that had started to map deep lines on her brow and around her eyes and mouth.
His big hands thrust inside to grab a bag of cotton wool but the string at the top of the bag wrapped itself around the cabinet contents. They clattered out in a crash as he pulled the cotton wool out. Cream from a broken bottle crept across the tiled floor. He picked up tubes and jars and stuffed them back inside the cupboard, grabbed a fresh towel from the rail, and threw it over the greasy mess on the floor. He hadn’t been this angry with her since she washed his jeans with the lottery ticket in the pocket that time. He turned back to the sink, and dabbed at his nose with a damp piece of cotton wool and screwed his eyes tight, concentrating on making the intense soreness disappear. The pain reminded him of Jackie’s anger at finding that damn earring.

“I hate you,” she’d said as she threw clothes into a case.
“Ok, ok. Right. I’ll tell you,” He had to say something to stop her leaving. “I found it. I was going to leave it behind the bar. Honest!”
Jackie grabbed clothes from her wardrobe.
“I haven't done anything, you've got to believe me. This is daft.”
His constant denials just made her more angry. There was nothing more he could say so he threw a dart.
“OK. So could you blame me if I did? These days you're more frigid than an ice pole left in the freezer for a month.”
That’s when Jackie punched him. Just lunged at him with a clenched fist. It connected with his top lip. He felt the tooth cut into his gum. Then she came at him again. He pushed her back from him with one hand, and held her back with the other flat-palmed against her head. She swung her fists at the air between her arms and his body. He let go, she propelled forward and bounced off him, bumped his nose with the top of her head as he bent down to try and catch her. It hurt like hell.
He held his wrist to his nose and felt the rage rise as the blood trickled down.
“Well go then! Go on! Fuck you,” he’d said as he picked up scattered shoes and hurled them into Jackie’s case. It sat gaping open on the bed, clothes hanging over the sides. One shoe landed inside and the other hit the pillow.
Jackie pulled her grey shoulder length hair back into a furious knot. Her head must hurt. A lump had appeared but she showed no pain. She put the stray shoe in the case.
“Jackie. Look, I didn't mean it. Can't we just talk about this?”
He moved in at her back and tried to turn her to face him. He wanted to talk, it had all got so out of hand but she pushed him away.
“Get off me!” She turned back to the case. “The one thing we said Kev. The One Thing. We’d never, ever, go with anyone else - unconditional love and devotion - remember! No matter what else happened, whatever problems we had to face, we did it together; we’d always pull through … even after Liam…”
That was a bit below the belt. What the hell did Liam have to do with this?
Jackie’s voice wobbled into a squeak; she regrouped with a roar ; “And you just go off with some tart and for what, Kev? What? A one night shag? Is sex all that matters to you?”
He grabbed her arms, made her listen.
“Look I can't remember, all right. I was drunk. I've really got no idea how that earring ended up in my pocket. All I know is that I woke up with a banging head at Craig's place this morning and he drove me home. He had to stop on the way so I could puke.”
She turned to face him. The look on her face was somewhere between “I told you so” and “I'm never wrong.” Both usually preceded a lecture which came with contempt.
“Your phone rang me last night. Your mobile must have gone off in your pocket or something. I kept shouting helloo but there was no response and all I could hear was heavy breathing and the occasional female giggle in the background.”
“It must have been someone with Craig,” Kev protested.
She continued : “As you lay snoring like a pig this morning, I checked your pockets for your phone. I was going to recharge it if the battery had gone in case you hadn't switched it off. The last call was to our landline and it lasted 15 minutes before your credit ran out. I couldn't redial and make another call while it was connected. That's when I found the earring.”
She turned back to the bed and bent to fasten the suitcase. “And it's not just that. I'm not entirely stupid, you know. The late night “emergency” jobs that have suddenly come in these last few months. ”
“What are you on about?” Kev really didn't have a clue. “The very nature of “Emergency” means sudden. You should be pleased we've been busy. It pays the fucking mortgage.”
She turned full face towards him. Her dark eyes burned into him like flame throwers. “So what about the calls I've been getting. The “caller unknown” ones when the other end goes down as I pick up?”
Kev scratched his head. “Maybe it's one of those robotic promotion calls that try to sell you something like PPI claims and that.”
She shot him a look of disgust. “You've been behaving like an arse lately too. Something's changed. I can feel it.”
Kev looked puzzled : “Not from me it hasn't. Are you going through the menopause or something?”
Jackie curled her lip and flared her nostrils like there was a bad smell in the room. “Bastard.” She eased the suitcase from the bed.
“I’ve never been with anyone else. Ever. And believe me, it’s not as if I haven’t had the opportunity. Maybe I should have taken it. I wish now that I had!” She sniffed the air, pulled up the handle of the suitcase and wheeled it to the door.
Kev hung on her last words.
“Opportunity? Who? When?” He followed her downstairs, grabbed her arm to stop her leaving and she shrugged it off.
“Just fuck off, Kev. ”
“Jackie, please. You've got this all wrong. We need to talk about this.”
The door slammed and she was gone.

Kev looked at the mess made by the spilled face cream on the bathroom floor, swiped the towel through it, lifted it up in a scrunch and binned it. His head throbbed even more than it did when he collapsed on his bed that morning before Jackie woke him up demanding to know what he'd done last night. There had to be more to her leaving than just a bloody earring he couldn't account for. Maybe he had been out with the lads a bit too often lately as business had picked up, but the stuff about the calls and the change in their relationship seemed to be more of an excuse. He hadn't noticed anything different.
He wanted to go back to bed, to sleep, but too many thoughts circled like hawks. Whatever he had done last night he was sure he hadn't been with anyone else but this, whatever “this” is, was about more than Jackie's fear that he's having an affair. Blaming him for what she's doing would make it easier to leave. What did she mean by “opportunity?” Did she have someone else? Is that it? Is that the real reason she's left? But why did she mention Liam? He knew she blamed him for it but they hadn't talked about him in years. The wound had healed but left a scab and neither wanted to pick at it for fear of creating a festering sore.
He took a cold flannel and moved to the bedroom. It was a mess. The wardrobe doors on her side were still open. Unwanted clothes and shoes were scattered about the room. Her wedding dress was still in there and the black dress she'd worn at Liam's funeral which she hadn't worn since but kept as some form of grim reminder of her grief. If only she'd recognised his loss too. Liam wasn't just her baby. He thought she'd leave then. She only married him because of Liam but she stayed after they lost him and they had three more babies, all mums themselves now. Maybe even Liam would be a dad by now if he'd lived. Kev didn't want to think about that or what he would tell the kids about where Jackie was if they called. She'd probably call them herself to get her side in first.
He lay on the bed and put the flannel across his nose. The more he thought about it the more silly this seemed and the less it seemed to be about whatever he had done last night. What had he done last night? He closed his eyes and began to drift back to the bar.


“Still got it!” he’d said as he downed a whiskey and then followed it immediately by guzzling a beer down his throat in gulps. Deep voices chanted “down, down, down!” in a crowd as he competed with his work mates to get through the line of waiting pints. Beer drenched out of the sides of his mouth and soaked his shirt. He struggled to keep up with the game he used to play so well in his younger days when he went out every night while Jackie stayed home with the girls.
“What’s up old man? Can’t you hack it!” Craig lifted his pint and poured it with ease down his throat. He belched and reached for the next.
“You wait until you get married, mate. It takes it out of you.”
“What! Can't you get it up no more either, then?”
Kev spluttered and almost choked as Craig and his mates laughed. Bill, the other plumber who worked in Kev's small firm, cut through the teasing. “He's got a point, Kev. You're that mardy lately.”
“Don't you worry about me, pal. I've got no worries in that department and neither has my Jackie.”
Kev forced a smile. Maybe she just didn’t fancy him anymore. He hardly dare touch her these days. Always bloody tired! Another pint sank down the hatch. Bill went to get another round and Craig went outside to have a cigarette. Then those two girls walked in. He remembered that. The tall gorgeous looking one with big tits and her sumo-wrestler shaped mate. Then the room began to spin.

THE RINGS

This story was submitted as an assignment a few months ago. Time away from it has helped me to see some of its faults and it's one that I'm still busy working on.


Jackie turned the rings on her finger so hard they moved like a Chinese burn. The sound of train wheels rolling over iron tracks forged a rhythm to her rage. Bleak countryside raced behind the slanted rain drops, which filled the window like grey net curtains.

“It’s horrible isn’t it?“ came a voice from above. A young man shook out his coat before lifting it up on the rack.

She looked up annoyed : “Yes, obviously!”

His smile disappeared : “I was only trying to be friendly.”

“Sorry. I didn‘t mean to be rude. I had a late night. Tired.”

No point in taking it out on him, she thought.

“No problem. I’ll leave you in peace. You don’t mind if I ….” He sided into the seat opposite and laid a slim case on the table between them.

“No, no, please do.” Her smile was weak.

Warmth from the big sloppy cardigan, that she normally buried herself in while lounging around the house, spread down through her body and cuddled her. The pattering of the man’s fingers on his keyboard soothed like a lullabye. She closed her eyes and drifted, details from the morning’s row replayed in time to the tracks. A train screamed past in the opposite direction, so close it felt she would be skinned alive. Her head jerked back as if struck. Her eyes forced open.

“Sorry? Did you say something?” The young man looked up.

Jackie looked startled.

“No… I hope I wasn’t thinking aloud.”

“It’s probably that lot,” he threw his head backwards to indicate to a group of teenagers laughing and giggling further up the aisle.

Jackie peered out from her seat. Two girls sitting opposite Beavis and Butthead-types looked heavenward, folded their arms and chewed on gum. Pony-tailed heads met as they gossiped; big circle earrings touched and bounced, hands flapped as they talked. She imagined the wearer of the earring she had found that morning. It was cheap artificial tin metal the sort that brought you out in rash. Just like its owner, she thought. An intense soreness burned from her finger which was red and chafed. She tugged and pulled her rings off, and felt instant relief.

“Noisy, aren’t they?”

“Just kids. Mine were just the same.”

The man looked up from behind his laptop. She continued : “They’re older now. Grown up and left home. Got their own families.”

“I‘ll be getting married soon but we won‘t be starting a family yet. My fiancée is committed to her job for the next five years.” His face suddenly spread and his eyes glazed as a ping indicated an email had arrived.

“That’s her now. She’s meeting me at the station.”

He hunched over his keyboard, his whole face a smile. His excitement would have been infectious if Jackie hadn’t seen it all before. Love had nothing to do with any of it. She turned back to the window, thinking of the earring and Kev‘s denial, and that punch she gave him.

“Well go on, then. Go on, fuck you if you can’t discuss this properly!” he’d said as he picked up scattered clothes and threw them in Jackie’s bag as she packed in fury, blood trickling down from his nostril, tears slicing through her mascara.

“Have you been married long?” The man looked up again.

“30 years.” She wanted to add with hard labour but didn’t.

“Wow. My parents never made it that long but it’s nice to see a living example of people who can obviously live happily together their whole lives.”

Jackie forced a smile. She looked back to the window and the man went back to his lap top.

She thought she’d forgotten how to cry and she hadn’t seen Kev so angry. At least it was a reaction. Better than his usual “grunts” for yes to a cup of tea, or “nah” on second time of asking when he didn’t acknowledge her at all. Her life had been servitude to a man who didn’t care and kids who couldn’t be bothered. She looked at her hands. Rough like worn leather. Her finger felt cold. Dry skin flaked in the ridge on her finger where the rings had been.

A young woman walked along the aisle with a baby clutched to her side. She held him with one arm and used her other hand to put pieces of paper on the tables.

“Excuse me that I don’t speak English. I am a homeless. I came here for better life but I am forced to beg to feed my child. Please help.”

The woman stood waiting. Jackie dug in her purse, pinched out a pound coin and held it out. Long, slender brown fingers grasped it from her hand. The woman smiled and nodded her head but said nothing in English or her Mother tongue.

“They make me sick, those people,” the lap-top man said as she moved up the aisle.

“It’s not nice to have no home … ” Jackie replied, “.. and it’s not the baby’s fault.”

“They shouldn’t have kids if they can’t look after them.”

Jackie leaned back in her seat, the train rhythm soothed her irritation. Bringing up kids was the hardest thing she’d ever done and it must be harder for those poor women on their own.

The thought of her own baby took her by surprise. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. Panic pushed itself out in a cough that was followed by a sneezing fit.

“Oh dear. It sounds like you’re getting a cold.”

“Stress,” Jackie said before she blew into a tissue. “The dusty train air doesn’t help.”

The train slowly rumbled into King’s Cross Station and forced her to focus on what was going to happen next. The lap top man reached up to the luggage rack and offered to help with her bag. He stepped onto the platform, walked ahead of her, and hovered outside the station shops by the entrance.

Cigarette smoke hit Jackie as she made her way outside and she inhaled deeply through her nose. Kev hated her smoking and she’d given up for him, but she missed it and turned back towards the newsagent’s, to get a packet of her favourite brand,. The lap-top man and a suited young woman with a brief case between her feet were kissing. Even with heels, his girlfriend had to tip toe to engage. She sucked her lip as she bent to pick up her briefcase. They turned hand in hand and walked off. Jackie said hello but the lap-top man didn’t see her.

Fear followed as she walked out onto the Euston Road. London had changed since her honeymoon. It was starting to get dark. She pulled her coat collar up, placed her handbag around her shoulder and held it close with one hand s she pulled her small suitcase behind her with the other. Lights from a big building drew her across a small evergreen park, spattered with dead branches from big trees. She walked the pathway between sad looking flower beds, bordered with winter pansies. Tourists with back-packs entered the brightly-lit hotel across the square. Jackie followed them in. They were German.

“Yes, we stay in London for two nights and then we go to Scotland,” they told the woman behind the desk, her hair gleaming and tied up in a neat French knot, smart uniform with badge that said Suzanne Jones, Head Receptionist.

She looked up and smiled, perfect white teeth on show, as she handed them their door pass.

“Have a nice stay!”

Jackie approached. The receptionist looked her up and down as the smile faded.

“Just one night, I expect,“ Jackie said.

“What’s the purpose of your stay?”

“R+R, and anything else I fancy.”

The receptionist handed Jackie her pass.

“Floor 4. Check out at 10am”

Jackie just made the lift. The Germans were talking in German but stopped and said “hello“ as she entered. They smiled and resumed their foreign conversation. Jackie always wanted to travel when the kids left home but Kev wasn’t very adventurous. Moments later, the lift pinged and the doors opened.

The room was down the hall. Three attempts later and she managed to open the door with the card pass.

"Whatever happened to keys!" she said aloud.

Suitcase heaved onto the bed with relief, she sat next to it for a moment, brushed her greying, shoulder length hair back from her face and dragged out the bobble that was slipping through the thick and unkempt style.

Jeans, jumper and a change of underwear were set aside from a mismatch of nothing useful from her case and Jackie headed for the shower. The strong spray of hot water
cascaded over her head and down her body and rinsed away any remnants of bad feeling. Soap ran into her finger. Jackie held it under the water to relieve the sting and then turned off the tap and got out.

Hair wrapped in a towel, she sat on the bed and worked some cream in while wondering what she could do in London. She reached for her cigarettes and sneered at the No Smoking sign on the polished dressing table. There was a smoke alarm on the ceiling and a window that opened wide. Hanging her head and half her body out, she drew in heavily, holding the smoke in for a moment before letting it out with a huge pleasurable sigh. Her life, her choice, she could smoke herself to death if she wanted. Busy people went about their lives below Jackie’s window as she smoked. A woman loaded with shopping struggled to the bus stop and dropped the bags with relief when she arrived. A suited man with open camel coat talked rapidly on a mobile and, without breaking step, negotiated himself around a tramp laid out on the pavement by the park in a wrap of blankets.
A happy looking couple chatted across the road, stopped talking and then embraced. The woman was heavily pregnant and the man had to lean over her bump to get close enough to kiss her. Jackie smiled. Kev had made such a fuss of her when she told him about the baby she was expecting.

“You’ll have to say yes now,” he’d said.

She told herself it would be fine even though she was so young. She was very fond of Kev. It wasn’t the sort of love that pins you up against the wall and grabs you by the throat but it was honest, loyal, hard working. Kev fussed and nannied her, brought her breakfast in bed, suffocated her, and said she should give up her job but she wouldn’t. It was on the bus home that the pain started. Heavy and unspoken grief haunted his face as he arrived by her bedside in the labour suite to witness their first-born coming into the world all sloppy and wet. It should have been pride. Jackie almost died with her son. Kev cried more when he thought he was losing her too. She opened her eyes to see him sitting on the end of her bed, praying. Him. Praying. For her. Their son lying cold in a crib by the window with dried blood still stuck in patches to what would have been a fine head of hair. She didn’t dare touch him but Kev picked him up, held his tiny, wrinkled body close, and sat next to Jackie. He loosened one arm and reached out to her , bringing her hand in to touch their son’s face with her palm, as if by a miracle they could warm the life back into him. That was the last time she had cried.

Tired eyes hurt and Jackie rubbed away the memory she didn’t want to dwell on. She laid on the bed and switched on the TV using the remote to flick through channels. She settled on the news. It was late ...

… Something round and silver lies on the ground… fingers reach for it …almost …what’s that?…her eyes are drawn to something else that glitters …shines and blinds .. She can barely see what it is…her hand reaches out…it’s a gem…a red stone…and another…just out of reach… precious ... side by side…

Jackie’s arm dropped over the side of the bed. She woke and thought of her rings as soon as her eyes opened. The TV was playing a cooking show to itself. She turned, felt for the remote and switched it off. Throwing the covers back, she moved to the dressing table and picked up her bag. She saw the red stones of her engagement ring glitter when she opened a zipped compartment and dug in for her wedding ring. She slipped them back on her finger .

Her phone buzzed gently in her bag. A missed call from Home and several other messages from Kev showed up as she flicked through. Staring at the phone a moment; her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Jackie slapped the phone shut, threw it aside, and curled up in bed with the blankets hugged around her. She hoped it wouldn’t rain tomorrow .