Chapter 6 #2
They tell her that it’s okay, that she hasn’t.
But she has and they can’t get it back again.
In fact the entire gig feels sombre. It’s supposed to be laid-back but there’s a melancholic feeling to the entire set and Melody can’t change the vibe no matter how she tries.
At another table across the room she sees a young woman cry and all of her friends huddle around her.
When the waitress comes to clear their glasses away and take a new order, she overhears the conversation, and tells them that the bartender has also broken up with his girlfriend.
On that note there’s a loud crash as he angrily throws a bottle into the recycling bin.
They all look up to see a muscular handsome man with a perfectly chiselled face moodily attack the cocktail shaker as if he’s trying to end all life on earth.
‘Not all bad news then,’ Melody says, watching his powerful shoulders in motion, and the girls laugh.
‘He’s perfect for you,’ Gemma says, smiling for the first time. ‘He’ll be battered and bruised and not able for a new relationship.’
‘Just how I like them,’ Melody says with a grin, popping an olive into her mouth.
‘I’ll let him know you said that,’ the waitress says, making her way back to the bar.
After the gig they part and go their separate ways, back to their sad dark January lives, a little brighter only for Melody now that she has bartender Filip Wozniak’s number in her phone.
When Melody steps into the apartment she senses she has company.
She smells aftershave and hears a deep voice.
She also smells smoke. The balcony sliding door is ajar and the end of the cigarette lights up in the dark.
Two people are sitting out on the balcony.
There are empty bottles of wine on the counter, corkscrew and corks scattered, with dirty dishes in the sink.
Claire, her flatmate and landlady, is entertaining a man, which is surprising as Claire, a junior counsel criminal barrister, has a no-men-in-the-apartment policy.
Tonight Melody is relieved that Claire is breaking her own rule because it means that she will stay home.
Melody likes to be alone, she is a solitary person, but she doesn’t like to be alone at night and she will do almost anything to prevent those terrifying longest nights of the year from happening.
She likes to be spiritually, relationship-py alone, but not physically.
If Claire goes away on holiday then Melody also arranges her holiday around that time or Melody’s mum moves in.
If Claire is away for a single night or for the weekend, then Melody will stay at work later, or overnight with a friend, or beg them to stay with her.
Not much begging is required, her friends are good and understanding but they are increasingly busier with their own lives, as friendship is still important but fades in ever demanding lives: marriage, children, jobs.
She’s not afraid of the dark, or of sleeping alone because she does that most nights, but it is a little of everything.
She gets deeply anxious, every little sound magnified.
Even her music collection, which can normally be relied upon to transport her wherever she wants to go, is no use at night.
Her body is in flight mode all night, and her head races with terrifying thoughts that her alone-ness is like a beacon to all the crazies in the world.
When she was sixteen, she moved to London to live with her dad.
He was still very famous, and his house was always full – until suddenly one day it wasn’t.
Ever since then, a night alone elicits a panic attack so she avoids it.
She has an understanding flatmate who gives her notice, when she can, if she’s not going to be home.
They have diary date meetings where Claire gives her holiday dates and work nights away well in advance as if she’s an employee requesting time off.
Their apartment is situated in Dublin’s city centre in Spencer Dock, a vibrant address beside the River Liffey.
She had to give up the apartment by the train tracks.
She’s surrounded at all times by thousands of apartment blocks in every direction around her, as well as businesses, shops, retail units and restaurants.
Yet, she still does not like to be home alone.
The balcony door slides open and Claire steps in.
‘Hey,’ she says, her voice low. ‘Sorry about the mess. I’ll tidy it later.’
‘No problem, I’m glad you have company.’
‘He’s my brother, Tom. He broke up with his wife and he wants to talk it over and over and over. My head feels like it’s going to explode but I have to be here for him. It’s my dad’s dying wish.’
‘Dad is still very much alive,’ Tom says, from the balcony. ‘And I can hear you.’
Claire rolls her eyes.
‘I hope they didn’t break up on Thursday,’ Melody says lightly.
‘Yes it was on Thursday. Why?’