Water on my cornflakes

The question of accommodation was nagging at me. Sleeping arrangements. I was paying for a ‘double with single occupancy’. I had not got around to approaching Mrs Wincey – the proprietor of The Limes Guest House (AA recommended) - regarding the imminent appearance on the scene of Anastasia.
Now it was Carole I would somehow have to account for. Tricky. Do I say that she is my ‘partner’ (a catch-all term these days), come to join me for a few days? And could I now have the same room as a full ‘double’? (There are two beds: a double and a single – I have been sleeping in the double anyway).
Or, should I introduce Carole as my younger sister, and ask for a separate room for her? That somehow does seem a waste of money

Carole interrupted my reverie. Pushing her empty plate away, and draining her lager, she said

- So, what’s your hotel like? Do you think they will have a room for me – for one night?

I felt panic. That awful feeling deep in my guts. Like I’m falling into a big dark hole. I had been assuming that Carole would take the place of Anastasia – at least on a temporary basis. You know, like in the song: If you can’t be near the one you love/Then love the one you’re near. Now I felt lost, bewildered. No, worse: I felt abandoned. Like in the dreams. They were coming true!

- I was sort of assuming…
- Yes I know you were. But I’m not. I’m not going to sleep with you.
- But I thought… I mean... you’ve come all this way. It’s not just to deliver a letter – is it?
- No, it isn’t. I’m here, George, because I love you.
- Well then…
- I said I love you; I am not IN love with you. I care about you. I care what happens to you.
- Well, you’re the only that does. That Swedish tart, she ---------
- Anastasia loves you George. In her own way. Yes of course she’s shagging Jake. But the way she sees it, what else can she do? She’s a survivor. She takes the best deal going. And, currently, Jake’s the best deal. But she really does love you - if you had seen how upset she was when she handed me the letter…

This was all going wrong, I thought. But I did not realise how wrong it was going to go until Carole continued
­
- There was another reason I came. I’ve brought you a ticket.
- What… to the theatre? Are we going to see a show?
- It’s a railway ticket. To Swindon. One way.

It took a moment for the light to dawn. But when it did, I panicked.
- Oh no. This is a conspiracy isn’t it! Well you know where you can shove your ticket. I’m not going back inside.

Heads began to turn as Carole raised her voice.
- For fuck’s sake George, will you stop acting like Britain’s most wanted man! You are not Ronnie Biggs… you are not one of the Great Train Robbers. You walked out of a - not so secure - psychiatric hospital, and you've been farting about all over the countryside, playing silly buggers.

I felt I needed to regain my dignity.
- Well, thank you very much. You’ve certainly reduced me to size. But they haven’t caught me. Have they!

She sighed.
- George, they know where you are. You left a clear enough trail. A person might be forgiven for thinking you wanted to be caught.

This was getting worse.
- Dr Foggatty could have you picked up anytime, but he doesn’t want to do that. And do you know why? Because he cares about you too. He wants you to come back voluntarily. It’s Freddie who paid for your ticket.

Things were moving too fast.
- So how did you come to be involved in this pantomime?
- Freddie got in touch with Anastasia. He wanted her to come down here. But she couldn’t. So she rang me. That girl is sticking her neck out for you.
- How come?
- Well, it's true that Jake paid for my ticket, and hotel expenses etc.; he just doesn’t know it yet. She sort of dipped her hand into the till. Of course, she’ll pay it back – she says.

I felt a strange feeling in the back of my throat. But there was one more question.
- What about Amanda? Is she really pregnant?
- I honestly don’t know, George. All Freddie would say is that she is on extended sick leave. But forget about her for the moment. Think about yourself. It really is in your best interests to come back with me tomorrow.

Control was slipping away from me. I leaned against the red plastic backrest. I felt tired. Weary. Carole took a handkerchief from her bag, leaned across and gently wiped my eye. The familiar perfume aroused faint sexual stirrings. Just for a moment. Then they were gone. A tear plopped embarrassingly into my almost empty pint. I drained the glass. The beer tasted salty – but I drank it anyway.