Chapter Seven
Returning back to Belfast, drained yet full of fresh resolve, Sasha was determined to make it work this time. He wanted to give it another go, Christmas was just around the corner and Sasha was determined to show him the best Christmas ever. She was swept along, too, by his enthusiasm. Kirk, when he was good, was full of ideas. Brimming with energy, excitement and vitality, he was like a big kid at times. And the vibe rubbed off on Sasha. They discussed a turkey dinner, Christmas decorations, presents and a soppy Christmas movie. They dreamed of sitting around the Christmas tree on Christmas morning, opening presents, the soft lullaby of Christmas music in the background; the aroma of turkey drifting from the kitchen. It would be perfect. Sasha was determined to prove herself. Still guilt-ridden about her latest jealous episode, she was determined to make amends.
It was decided that he would stay at hers for the two week break. Considering they had had many chats in the past about potentially living together, Sasha thought this would be a great appetiser for them; a taster of what was to come.
Sasha excelled herself on Christmas day, even she had to admit. She had spent hundreds creating the perfect Christmas. Her ever-increasing credit card balance was creeping up and up, something that brought her out in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, but she pushed the panic down and tried to forget about it in the cold light of day.
She had bought a tree with fairy lights and decorations, a Christmas table-cloth, table decorations, Christmas plates, and cutlery. She had bought food, and dessert, and drinks. And, most of all, she had bought his presents. Gifts which she had spent hours deliberating over. Thermal socks, for when he complained of the cold; fingerless gloves, so he could keep warm yet smoke at the same time; a collection of lamps and lights, to brighten up his flat; CDs, jumpers, chocolates – the list went on. She had trekked around shops late at night; the Christmas lights twinkling above her and the Christmas music tinkling around her. She realised, suddenly, that this was the first Christmas that she’d actually got excited about in a long time.
Christmas day was perfect. The dinner was cooked to perfection, the apartment was resplendent with decorations, and Kirk seemed delighted with the presents she’d got him. They’d curled up on the sofa and watched It’s a Wonderful Life and they’d headed off to bed, making love before drifting asleep. It really was a wonderful life.
It was a few days later, however, that things changed. Their relationship seemed to be characterised by that; dizzying highs followed by crashing lows, like a terrifying yet exhilarating roller-coaster.
Kirk got out of bed, bleary eyed and exhausted. He sat beside her on the sofa.
“I’m in a foul mood,” he blurted out. Sasha looked at him, surprised, recognising that familiar sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. Trouble was brewing. A storm was on the way. The winds were rising and soon they’d be howling; lifting tiles off the roof and bringing destruction.
“I feel like a caged animal,” he blurted again. Sasha felt the sentence like a slap in the face. He felt caged with her. He felt trapped.
“I feel… ”, he said, “that I need to get out of this house… on my own… and go for a walk somewhere. I feel that if I stay here with you, we’ll just end up fighting.”
Sasha swallowed hard and tried to push down the feelings of hurt.
My God, he’s only spent a few days with me and already he needs to get away from me.
But she didn’t argue back or create a fuss. She simply nodded and watched as he got his stuff together to leave the house.
“We’ll meet back here at 5pm today, okay?” he asked her. It seemed so cold, so formal.
And she nodded, fighting back the tears of hurt. He’s only spent a few days with me and already he needs to get away from me.
The door closed behind him and he was gone, the silence descending over the apartment like a thick blanket.
He needs to get away from me.
Sasha and Kirk’s relationship had been characterised by countless excited hellos and many tearful goodbyes. The number of Fridays that she had stood in the train station waiting expectantly for his arrival. The amount of times they had hugged ferociously, happy to see each other again after a two week spell. Other train customers looking on with a mixture of warmth or jealousy, as they’d glimpse them hugging and kissing each other triumphantly.
And then the countless Sundays, where Kirk was due to head back to the station to do the weary journey home, having to say goodbye to her for another two weeks. His low mood would start on the Sunday morning and continue through the day, until the moment he had to hug her goodbye.
So why now, the first chance they had to spend any length of time together, was he desperate to get away from her for the day?
Sasha tried to busy herself by using the day to take down the Christmas tree, put away the decorations and clean the apartment. But with the dismantling of the tree came the dismantling of her hope. Christmas is over. He had to get away from me. Now what?
The thoughts whirred around her mind as she cleaned.
What happens if we do live together? Is this what it would be like? Him having to get away from me?
On and on the thoughts whirled, spiralling bigger and bigger with each hour that passed.
By the time he returned, she had wound herself up in such a knot that it was written all over her face.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked her, the minute he saw her.
“Nothing,” she lied.
“What’s wrong?” he sighed impatiently.
“Nothing.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Kirk’s voice raised at this point.
“Sasha, sit down. Something’s wrong.”
He sat on the sofa and she sat in the armchair. She felt like she was at an interview.
“What’s with the mood?” he asked her. But his tone wasn’t sympathetic. It was abrupt, impatient; tiresome. What now?
“Well… I just felt a bit hurt that you needed to get away from me… ” Sasha began, aware that her voice sounded whiny, like an annoyed child.
Kirk rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go,” he sighed.
“What?” she asked defensively.
“Well, here you go, making this all about you… ” he began.
Sasha felt the walls closing in on her. Her shutters were coming down and she didn’t want to do this. She did not want to have a talk-a-thon three days after Christmas and just before the New Year. But Kirk was on a roll.
“There you go again – making this all about you. I just needed to get out for a walk and now you’ve… ”
“I’ve got to go out,” Sasha interrupted. She could not face this; the recriminations, the accusations, the long analysis. She couldn’t stand another one of these talk-a-thons. Not today; not a few days after Christmas.
Pulling on her coat and grabbing her bag, she left the apartment and closed the door behind her. It was 3pm. He had said he’d wanted to meet up again at 5pm. She’d walk to Tesco to kill some time. Perhaps by the time she returned, he would have calmed down. But for now, she had to get away from the insults, the put-me-downs, the accusations.
She walked and walked and walked. And when she came home, he was gone.
She walked around her apartment, searching and alarmed, the silence deafening. But as she went from room to room, she was struck by the emptiness. It was as if her voice echoed off the walls.
“Kirk? Kirk?”
Like walking around an empty show house and feeling your voice echo back off each wall. There was no trace of him.
She looked at her phone and realised she’d had three missed calls from him. She had forgotten to change her phone from silent to its normal ring-tone. Trying to phone him back, she walked from one room to the other. His coat had gone from the hanger. His bag had gone from the side of the bed. His toothbrush had departed from its cosy spot next to hers in the bathroom. The only thing he’d left behind was the pile of Christmas presents which she’d lovingly trekked miles to buy for him. She sank on the sofa with a weary slump. A few days before New Year, and he had walked out. Was it over this time? For good?