Page 31 - Julie Thorley Nine Lives book

The Practical Samaritan
you would think throwing himself into the traf c is a good idea.’ ‘I couldn’t even get that right.’ I know I sound petulant, but I
don’t care. ‘I’ve had enough. I want out.’
‘Do you?’ says Ruth. ‘Seems to me you just want a bit of
attention. If you want to be sure of killing yourself there are better ways to go about it. Pills, jumping off the car park roof or slitting your wrist, for instance.’
Her tone takes me my surprise. I’m expecting sympathy. ‘You don’t know anything about me,’ I protest. ‘You don’t know what it’s like.’
‘Tell me.’
So I do. Here I am, a low-grade graduate with no job and
no prospect of one. I’m living on beer and roll-ups in a mate’s at, and I’m a huge disappointment to my parents. My girlfriend – ex-girlfriend – has given up waiting for me to pull myself together and moved on. Can you blame me for wanting shot of this life?
‘Hmm,’ says Ruth. ‘So no diagnosis pointing to a lingering, painful death? No hint of scandal? No guilty secret that is going to lead to life imprisonment? In other words, nothing that can’t be mended?’
I wince as pain shoots through my body. I’m angry now and want to argue back. ‘You don’t understand. I’ve got nothing to live for.’
‘Well, you know nothing about me either,’ she counters. ‘We all have it tough sometimes. For all you know, my husband might have walked out and left me with three-year-old twins and another baby on the way. I might have ended up living
in a hostel on bene ts, struggling to make ends meet. I might eventually have resorted to stuf ng envelopes for a pittance because my family thought I’d brought it all on myself. It might have taken me 25 years to rebuild my life.’
How dare she! I’m lying in the gutter in agony and all she can do is tell me how tough she’s had it. I want some compassion, not a sermon on pulling myself together. I realise she’s speaking again.
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