Fur Coat No Knickers (28 page)

I don’t know what they put in that stuff, but within a few minutes I was experiencing a fully blown, out-of-body experience as I left the aircraft. Adrenaline was rushing around my body. I honestly felt like I was on drugs. I had the sensation that I was watching myself from above
, like it was happening to someone else. But the intense longing to confront and seduce Travis was more powerful than anything I’d ever felt. The internal conflict waved backwards and forwards constantly. The feeling would cycle from my head all the way down to my stomach, endlessly pumping through my veins. I couldn’t resist the feeling of hope that I could somehow win him back.

Then the doubts came flooding out.
Was I really going to walk into his life and demand an explanation, with no warning?
A little voice in my head knocked at my heart.
What if he rejects you? What if he laughs in your face? No, no, I can’t let myself think like that,
I said, trying to bury the little voice. I was entitled to get some answers and I wasn’t leaving without any. Travis owed me that much.

I paced numbly towards the exit, swept along by the crowd of people leaving the plane. My body shook and trembled with every step. Most of my confidence and bravado had disappea
red. My legs were on autopilot, yet I felt like I was free falling out of control. Once through passport control I had to try and pull myself together quickly, so I diverted my path to the toilets. As I walked through the large swing door, a familiar retching sound crept its way back to my ears.

‘Pregnant girl from the plane, is that you?’ I called over the cubicle where the noise was coming from. No answer. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yep… fine…’ the splattering she was making in the toilet bowl suggested otherwise.

Why did I have
to develop a conscience now?

‘Umm…’ I rested my head on the outside of the cubicle door, unsure of what to do next. ‘Is anyone coming to get you?’

[Louder splatters and splashes.]

‘
Eww… I’m fine! Don’t worry about me, I’m being picked up…’ she gulped.

‘Okay - well, good luck. Bye!
’ I said with relief as I detached myself from the situation. I was really glad I wasn’t in her shoes. I’m sure Travis would never tolerate such weakness. I am so glad my pregnancy is trouble-free.

I took one long
, lingering look at myself before I swung the door open to leave the ladies. My footsteps echoed eerily in the now-empty terminal building as I proceeded towards the Arrivals for Dublin, my eyes immediately spotted a gorgeous hunk of man.

‘Travis?’ m
y scalp pricked as I did a double take.

There he was. R
ight in front of me, casually leaning against a pillar, waiting. I saw him glance up in surprise, his body now rigid as he spotted me.

The surp
rise and colour drained from Travis’ face and was replaced with an expression full of wide-eyed horror.

I stopped in my tracks
: happy, shocked and confused.

All my plans and elaborate scenarios disappeared from my mind. The only sound I was aware of was the loud thump of my heart which seemed to be trying to break through my chest.

Then, two things happened very quickly. I heard footsteps close behind me and saw Travis’ expression change. It softened, but still looked full of panic. He was looking at the source of the footsteps behind me.

I turned my head just as the person behind dr
ew up beside me. It was the young, sick, pregnant girl. She wasn’t looking at me though. She was staring straight ahead at Travis with a huge, sloppy smile.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered to me gently as she walked past. Then, as she picked up speed walking straight towards Travis
, she called out to him. ‘This kind lady has been like a mum, looking after me and your baby on the flight.’

Each word was like a
knife stabbing me in the heart. I was frozen to the spot, my head spinning, unable to take it all in. Looking at Travis I could see his pleading eyes burning into mine, begging me not to say anything as she enveloped herself into him.

And
I
didn't
.
I
couldn’t.
I was utterly paralysed. I wanted to scream at the top of my voice, ‘but I’m wearing my fur coat and no knickers…!’ surely he couldn't pick that dowdy, pregnant, sick girl over
me?

Pregnant sick girl turns to give me one last cheery wave, grinning all over her little pretty face as she buries herself under the protective cloak of Travis’ arm. Tearing his eyes away from me, he bent down and kissed her tenderly on top of her head. Then,
for one more kick while I was down, he leaned over and rubbed her tummy and whispered something into her ear. I caught sight of her giggling. Without a second glance back at me, the pair of them turned and walked away. As I watched them go off hand in hand, I felt compelled to scream out and say something, but no words would leave my open mouth.

Then, as they reached the sliding doors of the terminal, I saw Travis briefly turn his head to look over his shoulder. Our eyes met, for what I k
new would be the last time ever. The expression within them was so unlike anything I had ever seen before. Travis, my own love God - the man who had made me feel like no one had ever done before - looked at me with complete, chilly disdain. With that, he turned back and he and his pregnant girlfriend disappeared into the crowd outside the airport.

I don’t know how long I stood there, unable to move or speak. I felt sick and numb as I became vaguely aware that tears were falling down my cheeks. Then I heard my mobile begin to ring. I hadn't even realised that I had it on during the flight.

Fumbling around in my bag, I finally managed to locate it and answered it without looking at who was calling.

‘Miss Tara Ryan?’ said the caller. The voice didn’t sound familiar.

‘… Ye, uh… yes?’ I answered, feeling nailed to the spot.

‘It’s the practice nurse here
, calling from the doctors surgery,’ went on the brisk, professional sounding voice. ‘We have your blood test results through and there is a note here that you wanted to be called as soon as the results came in. This is just to let you know there is nothing serious to worry about. It looks like you are simply entering into the menopause.’

At that moment
, I felt my legs crumple beneath me and my whole body crashed to the floor.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

[Text from mum]

I think that Botox has made
u go a bit funny. Get the doc to check it hasn’t leaked into your head. Love u xx

…

[Text to mum]

No mum, it can’t leak into your head!! I’m just tired and can’t sleep X

…

[Text from mum]

Ur such a beautiful looking girl, u really don’t need all that stuff. Please leave ur self alone Xxx

I pulled up to the surgery in a daze, not quite remembering the drive. My breathing was short, shallow and I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking. I placed one hand on top of the other to try and control the anxiety. Just getting out of the car felt like an impossible task.

After
enduring two weeks of this hell, I was so tired of my thoughts, so tired of the pain, so tired of not being able to sleep. All I wanted was for my head to shut up, but it just kept on chattering - I was utterly exhausted from it. My mind had become my enemy.

Each waking moment was an overwhelming emotional battle that I could no longer endure.
He
wasn’t mine to love.
He
never was mine in the first place, but that didn’t stop the waves of grief or the stomach-churning misery that continued to peak as I thought about Travis and her together.

I wrenched my weary mind back and began to gather myself to face the fact that
… I actually couldn’t face the facts. Mustering up all my strength, I counted to three, held my breath and made a run for the doctor’s surgery. I prayed no one would see me. It wasn’t just that I was still wearing my pajamas, covered with a hastily donned overcoat. I just wanted to hide myself away from the world. I just wanted to go back to the familiar sanctity of my bed, away from everyone.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for me to be seen
by the doctor. But, the minute the doctor made eye contact and asked me how I was, that was it. My chin started to tremble and my face contorted as I fought the tears back. I gulped hard in an effort to pull myself together. I wanted to scream and shout about what I was feeling, but I knew it was pointless. I knew I could never be fixed. I just hung my head and sniffed hard.

‘I think I may be a little down,’ I finally blurted out, along with a torrent of tears. ‘I can’t cope.’

The doctor handed me a box of tissues.

‘I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. P
lease can you give me something to make this pain go away?’

‘What pain are you feeling, Tara?’ he asked gently, looking at me over his glasses. I sat in silence and shrugged my shoulders. ‘Are you having suicidal thoughts?’

‘What?!’ I asked abruptly. ‘Of course I’m not. I would never commit such a sin!’

I couldn’t bring myself
to admit that in fact, I had been praying every night to the Big-Man upstairs, wanting him to take me away in my sleep. After all, he decides when your time’s up. But as of yet, my prayers had gone un-answered.

‘What do you think is making you feel this way, Tara?’

‘Where do I start?’ I began, my head spinning with what I should say. ‘Anything that
could
go wrong in my life
has.
Everything is just such a mess. Work has really slowed down and I just feel under
so much
pressure
all the time.
’

‘Okay,’ he nodded encouragingly
, ‘do you get much exercise? It can really raise your serotonin levels.’

The silly fecker,
I thought.
I’m sure I had some of that injected into my face recently.

‘Well I used to, but now I can’t seem to muster up the energy,’ I said, my voice faltering. This wasn’t going as I expected. I would just have to be very specific.

‘Doctor,
please
can you give me something so I can calm myself down? Maybe some sleeping tablets? And some triple strength Prozac? Can I have the strongest ones you have please? I just want to stop feeling like this.’

‘I don’t think that wo
uld be the right solution for you,’ he said in a patronising tone.

‘Pardon?’ I said sharply, the tears stopping instantly.

‘Well, Tara, all the pills will do is simply mask the problem… what we need is to
resolve
whatever it is that is making you feel this way, not cover it up.’

‘So what are you saying?’ I asked uncomfortably, twitching in my chair. I knew that no amount of time, money or comforting conversation could undo the past.
Or change the fact that Travis - the man who had practically asked me to marry him - was having a baby with his
young
girlfriend. ‘Surely you’re not saying I can’t have any happy pills? Can I just have double strength Prozac then?’

Maybe I was being a little greedy asking for triple strength.

‘Well, it sounds like you have a lot of emotional issues to work through. I think it would do some good if you talked to a professional. I’m suggesting we get you to see our counsellor.’

‘I don’t need to see a counsellor!’ I barked sharply, unable to
hide my annoyance. ‘I want to be numb so I can’t feel anything. Is that really too much to ask for?’

‘You need to feel something
, Tara. I’ll get that referral for you.’

‘But that could take weeks and I can’t spend another hour feeling like this,’ I said, starting to
really
panic now. ‘Will they give me some numbing tablets?’

‘They can be highly addictive, they only add to the problem.’ He said, sounding very matter of fact.

I couldn’t take in what he was saying. My nerve endings were screaming:
please God; not another day, hour or minute like
this
.

‘Look, I know that you’re a really busy man and you probably have a queue of
real
lunatics who need to see a counsellor… and it’s really kind of you to offer… but if you can just give me a prescription I can get out of your way,’ I pleaded, ‘and I won’t tell another soul - I promise.’

‘
I’m just booking the referral now,’ he said, tapping on his computer.

A boiling temper began raging inside me.

‘I am
not
happy. I am not happy
at all
. I am not leaving till you give me something. It’s not fair! All my friends are on numbing tablets (
well, all the fecked up ones anyway
). In fact, all the celebrities are on them… you know, life is hard enough.’

By
now, I was up on my feet and pacing the floor. ‘It’s one big battle out there. I’m tired of fighting - so don’t you battle with me too. You’re supposed to be
helping
me. You’re supposed to be on
my side
. Just give me the God damn pills!’

With that,
the Doctor’s face showed that he had given in, as he silently printed me off a prescription. Immensely satisfied with my performance, I calmed down.

‘I will give you a four-
week supply, by which time your referral to the counsellor will be through,’ he said handing over the precious prescription. ‘But please remember, Tara, this is only for the short term.’

‘Are they nice and strong?’ I asked shakily, snatching the prescription from him and shoving it in my pocket in case he changed his mind.

‘They will help you sleep. Make an appointment to come and see me next week.’

Will I feck come and see you next week,
I thought, as I dashed out of the door.
I’ll be La-La Land.

I raced to the chemist to pick up my prescription.

Come on, come on,
I thought, as I stood in the long queue full of dawdling old biddies on a day out (probably picking up their incontinence pads). Actually, I wasn’t sure who smelled worse - them or me.
I will shower tomorrow, maybe.

I finally got my hands on my
precious numbing pills and promptly shoved two in my mouth. I know the packet said take one just before bed, but I figured they would take a while to kick in.

[Text from Siobhan]

Me and James came round to see u but no one’s in. Hope ur feelin better, we are worried about u xxx

[Text from Laura]

Mum, Katie and I are very concerned about you, can you please stop ignoring our calls and pick up your phone!

Lying on the sofa, reading the other texts from friends was the last thing I remembered until the following morning. I woke up freezing, still fully clothed and holding my phone. But at last, I had something that knocked me out and removed the pain (for a while, anyway). I had just had 12 hours of nothingness where I wasn’t obsessing about Travis.

Light-headed, I stumbled into the kitchen for a drink and collapsed in a chair beside the kitchen table. Feeling relief, I sat and stared into space for a while. Soon though, the pain and the pictures in my head started creeping back. They started as a dull ache, but increased with vivid intensity.

I couldn’t face work, so I called in sick… again. Swallowing another two pills, I went to bed and buried myself away from the world under the duvet. I lay there, waiting for them to take effect, desperately trying to push the images away. I felt so drained. All I wanted was to go back to nothingness, where I wouldn’t feel the pain of real life. But, much to my despair, an hour later I was still awake.

Convinced that the pills weren’t working, I took another one, but I was just drifting in and out of
sleep. I wanted a proper sleep; a deep, undisturbed sleep. I wanted to be anywhere but here. I wanted to be anyone but me. I hated the ‘now’. Maybe I didn’t want to wake at all.

So I swallowed another t
wo for good measure.

I repeated this pattern over the next week, but by Friday
, sheer terror took over. In one week, I had taken a whole month’s supply of pills. I needed more, but what would I say to the doctor? How could I tell him that I had only one tablet left? I would have to make up some wild story. 

Taking a deep breath, I called the surgery and left a message. The doctor called me back within minutes.

‘How are you, Tara?’ he asked with a cheery voice.

‘Much better
, thank you... but I do have a very small problem,’ I added cautiously. ‘I went to stay with my sister for a few days in Dublin, you know, to get some fresh air, exercise and have some company. She has these two mischievous dogs and, well, one of them actually ate my whole box of numbing pills, straight out of my bag! The whole packet, even the foil…
everything
. He had to have his little doggy stomach pumped. Such a naughty pup! He slept for three days and was very sick.’

I paused, listening hard to hear if there was any reaction.

‘My sister is very angry with me,’ I continued, throwing in a few sobs for good measure. I had to do something. I could feel I was losing. ‘But, doctor I’m feeling so much better – all thanks to you and your brilliance,’ I added very quickly. ‘If I could just sleep a few more hours a night, I’m sure I would cope better. And I have decided to really embrace the counselling thing. In fact, I can’t wait to start. You are an amazing doctor and…’

‘I’ll leave a prescription at reception and we will have that appointment with the counsellor for you soon,’ he i
nterrupted abruptly, ‘and Tara… please be more careful this time.’

Breathing a huge sigh of relief at my
potentially Oscar-winning performance, I clicked the receiver.

A week later, a letter arrived from the surgery with the date of my counselling appointment. I really didn’t want to go. If they weren’t going to give me any numbing pills, what was the point? I cancelled it, saying I felt too unwell to attend; promising I would re-book, as soon as I felt better.

My pills were
depleting fast though. I felt sheer terror at the thought of having to ask for more, but I had gone through all my pills again in just over two weeks. Even though I was feeling more unwell as time went on, I had at least achieved what I had wanted; to feel numb; to feel nothing.

I mentally prepared myself, thinking up different stories
, different excuses, something - anything to get more pills. I then nervously rang the surgery to make the dreaded appointment.

‘I’m afraid your usual doctor is away on holiday, Miss. Ryan,’ chorused the r
eceptionist, ‘will you see Dr. Arahna instead?’

‘Of course, no problem.’ I answered, instantly relieved.

When the time came, I easily pulled the wool over Dr. Arahna’s eyes by rambling through one of my old stories.