Page 77 of The Man Upstairs

“You know how many times I checked for pills in Mum’s room when I was growing up? She’d always say she’d be doing everyone a favour and wasn’t worth anything, and how nobody really loved her. And the really sad thing is that she meant it. She really believed she was worthless and people would be better off with her gone. She probably still does, and that’s why a complete piece of shit like Scottie can exploit her, because she is desperate and wants to be loved. But I loved her. ME. I always will!”

“Oh, Rosie, I’m sorry.”

The thought of her checking through her mum’s possessions as a child, scared that her provider would take an overdose and leave her behind was nothing short of horror. The tremble of Rosie’s lip said it all. I wasn’t going to block her fountain of emotion finding its release.

“So, you technically cheated on your wife? When you already knew she didn’t want you? Fine. And you like younger girls, and you had a lot of sex with them? What’s so bad about that?”

I answered as calmly as I could.

“A lot is bad about that.Cheatingisn’t ok, no matter what the circumstances, and those girls shouldn’t have been taken advantage of. I should have been the mature party.”

“They were legal age, right?”

I couldn’t dispute that. I nodded.

“Yes, they were.”

“And they wanted you? You didn’t force anyone?”

“No, of course I didn’t force anyone.”

“And they wanted you, yes?” she repeated.

I pictured all the flirtatious glances and lip biting, and the glee the girls I fucked showed when I succumbed to their efforts and initiated filthy contact.

“Yes, they wanted it.”

“Great. So, why do you think that’s worth capital punishment? You really think that’s worth the death penalty?”

When she put it like that, it sounded quite disproportionate. But it wasn’t just about that.

“My family disowned me, and rightly so. It’s about them, and saying goodbye now I’ve disgraced them and tainted my memory.” I paused. “Maybe it was selfish of me. Wanting to wipe out my own existence after leaving theirs.”

“It’s not selfish!” she cried. “I’m not blaming you, Julian, I’m just saying you’re hurting, and kicking your own self-worth down, and you’re torn to pieces inside. That needs help. That deserves help. You don’t deserve to punish yourself like this!”

“And neither does your mother, of course. I know that must have broken you,” I said, and she nodded, tears beginning to spill.

“I tried to help, and I tried to get her to the doctors, and I tried to tell her she needed therapy, or support, or whatever else it would take, because it wasn’t fair she had to go through that. It wasn’t fair her parents made her believe she was that shit, by throwing her out when she was pregnant at seventeen!”

“I’m sorry to hear that was the case. And it wasn’t fair that YOU had to go through that, either,” I told her, stabbed by the realisation of poor Beverly’s inner torture. “Has she tried to contact them? Her parents? Maybe they can build some bridges. With therapy alongside that, she may be able to feel some relief.”

“So, what about you?” Rosie replied, shifting the focus back onto me. “Have you tried to build any bridges? You said you left without looking back, when they disowned you. They don’t even know where you are, do they?”

My own walls came up.

“They won’t want to build bridges. I’m nothing but a seedy embarrassment.”

“You don’t know that! They might!”

I pictured Katreya’s shocked rage, and the way Grace screamed at me, condemning me as nothing more than a depraved, abusive cunt.

Rosie must have known there was no point trying to convince me at that point. She took out all of the pills and placed them by the sink.

“Promise me you won’t do this,” she said. “You told me you love me. Is that true?”

There was no doubt in my heart.

“Yes, that’s true.”