Rehab Blues Read online

  Tracy dabbed her eyes for the last time that day and smiled.

  “Now, as a special treat I’ve ordered in some WagYu steak. I thought you’d all like something extra special. We don’t always eat together, but tonight I think we should make an exception. We’ll set up a table downstairs instead of you all hiding in your rooms. You know what WagYu steak is, Tracy?”

  “Er, I think so. It’s the best you can get, that’s all I know. I’ve heard the name before somewhere – Wag You. Funny name.” Tracy momentarily seemed distracted by some random thought, but then quickly came back.

  “By the way, what happened to me was nothing compared to what I heard happened to your lot, Helen.”

  Helen smiled a rare, uninhibited, genuine and broad smile. “That’s an understatement, Tracy.”

  ***

  So, Huck what was that all about? I mean we’re lucky we’re not all down at the police station.” David looked very serious.

  “Well, how the hell was I supposed to be prepared for that? I mean that pervert must have thought I was a genuine… you know… lady. We were all on a journey – you know an emotional journey. He was just a perv. Bastard. He was lucky to get away with a broken nose.”

  “And the rest, Huck.”

  “In my game bruises and squeezed knackers don’t count, David. And I can’t see him making a complaint to the police, can you? In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if he is a policeman. Or a magistrate or an MP.”

  “OK, Huck, in your own words…”

  “Sure, David.” Huck paused, cupped his hands around his mouth and took in a long deep breath, as if he was determined the get the story absolutely right, for posterity.

  “So we’ve had our little swim. That was great, really enjoyed it. A bit cold, but quite… energising. Anyway, I’ve nearly finished putting my kit back on – I was straightening my skirt if I remember right, I had a towel wrapped around my head so I couldn’t hear much but I had a feeling someone was behind me – you know that feeling David? I turn around and the guy’s behind me – naked – and obviously up for it, you know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, go on.”

  “Well, I didn’t have time to work out whether he thinks or knows who – what – I am, I’d deliberately chosen a dark corner in the open changing area, but I can see he’s coming closer and closer staring at me like I’m some sort of tart. I mean you don’t expect that in the ladies-only swimming pond on Hampstead Heath, do you? I thought it was for ladies of a certain age, not some guy up for a bit of al fresco rumpy. What really got me David is that there was no sign of a ‘may I?’, you know what I mean?”

  “Er, quite so, Huck. So, you decked him.”

  “Yeah, well, I bent over as ifit was party time and then let rip with a classic high back kick, heel of my foot straight to the nose. Beauty it was. Cage fighters call it ‘the donkey’ you know.”

  “And that was it?”

  “Sort of, David. I then grabbed his bits and said in my deepest voice. ‘Don’t try that one on me sunshine’ – or words to that effect. I’ve never seen a guy so scared in all my life. He ran out naked. Must be somewhere in Brighton by now.”

  “And the blood, Huck. I was told there was a lot of blood.”

  “Well, there was a bit of blood but not a lot. You should have been at my last fight – now that’s where you’d have seen a lot of blood. This was – you know – just a sort of… nose bleed. Reckon I should get a medal, don’t you?”

  “Know what you mean, Huck. I guess Helen was a bit freaked, that’s all.”

  “Not surprised David, not surprised. It was quite a day, really. The girls had some excitement as well, from what I heard.”

  “Just another day at The Place, Huck. It always seems to make sense in the end.”

  4

  David Cooper was always wary when he saw Paul Jones at his door. An appearance by Paul Jones meant it was ‘rebirthing day’. The problem David had with rebirthing was that he had such a nagging feeling that it was just so risky. He was always saying to JC: ‘if there’s no mark, there’s no evidence’ but in his heart – and from experience – he knew that not all ‘marks’ are physical.

  David had consistently expressed serious reservations about rebirthing, not on any ideological grounds or for therapeutic reasons – that wasn’t his call – no, it simply scared the shit out of him. Every rebirthing David had ever witnessed reminded him of a small plane trying to land in high cross winds.

  “Hi, Paul. You’re looking great. You working out these days or are you just naturally super looking?”

  “Good to see ya, David, my friend. I’m great, really great. Just back from Washington, due back in LA this weekend. Busy, busy, busy. Thanks. Who we squeezing out today? I’ve had a look at the profiles. Not sure I understand why they’re all here, but I guess that will all come out in the wash. God I love this job,” sighed Paul.

  David’s stomach churned; Paul’s relaxed manner made him feel very nervous.

  “Er, we got a full house but you’ll need to speak with Helen about who’s up for it. That’s not my call. I know the Richard guy – you now the manically depressed bipolar comedian – Richard Beckett, is a candidate, don’t know about the others. Can’t see how we can rebirth Big Betty without a fork lift truck – have you seen her? Annie Young’s face might fall off, I wouldn’t try and contain Huck – he might have a major freak out and from what I understand he’s really earned his cage name: the ‘micro-psycho’. ‘T-Bone’ Toni, our very own Italian stallion? Er, not sure that rebirthing’s quite right for a sixty-year-old rampant sex addict. Tracy’s a bit too fragile I reckon. Wait a minute, I’ll buzz Helen and we can talk this one through.”

  ***

  “OK” said Helen “this is Paul Jones, he’s our visiting rebirther. Now I know most of you won’t know too much about rebirthing, so I’ll let Paul do some explaining.”

  The six guests stood around Paul in the large sound-proofed basement of The Place referred to as ‘The Encounter Area’, used for all manner of activities, particularly those which involved loud noises such as shouting, screaming or crying. The entire troupe, Betty, Tracy, Huck, Richard, Annie and Toni, formed, without instruction or command, a nervous-looking half circle around Paul while Helen took a couple of un-noticed back steps towards the door.

  “Hi, everyone I’m Paul, Paul Jones. My, you all look so… apprehensive, there’s nothing to worry about, I promise. OK, a bit about moi. I am, as you all are, special in my own way. I was trained as a midwife in London – Clapham Maternity Hospital, believe it or not – but on a trip to LA, some years ago, I stumbled across a rebirthing workshop. I went along out of curiosity and, hand on heart, it changed my life.”

  Paul paused for effect.

  “Er, but what does it involve, Paul?” Huck wasn’t willing to wait for Paul’s warm-up to take its course.

  “Thanks, for that. You must be Huck. I was getting to that point. OK, we only rebirth volunteers. Richard, I understand you’ve already signed up, so you’ll be first.”

  Richard froze to the spot as if he had just been hit with a stun gun, before the shakes kicked in.

  “I’ve found over the years that the best way of explaining what I do is to demonstrate, rather than explain. So, before we start I need a volunteer, just to show you what we’re going to do. Huck do you want to help? I thought so, thanks. Now if you wouldn’t mind crouching on the floor, like this.”

  Paul adopted a sort of crouching foetal position; kneeling on the exquisitely smooth parquet floor he bent forward, tucked his knees tightly into his chest and placed his hands over his head as if bracing himself for some form of impact. Paul looked up to make sure everyone ‘got it’ and then got to his feet.

  “OK, Huck if you can do the same as that, I’ll explain – well you know – demonstrate what’s going to happen with Richard. You OK with that, Huck?”


  Huck gave a cocky shift of his broad shoulders and went for it.

  “OK, Betty can you sit behind Huck’s legs and wrap your arms around his body, as best you can, Betty? Try kneeling. Thanks. That’s it, get the soles of his feet wedged against your knees. Now, Richard and Toni – you go on either side of Huck, by his shoulders, and also wrap your arms around him.

  “Now, Annie you sit in front of Huck and form a circle with your thumbs and first fingers like a circle, OK sit in front of Huck, turn your hands around and place the circle around Huck’s head. Huck, make a bit of space around your head for Annie’s fingers. OK, looking good. Now who we got left? Tracy you get between Richard and Betty, yep, that’s good. OK, I want you all – except you Annie – to spread your arms around Huck. Spread your love around Huck.”

  Now, ordinarily Paul would have stopped right there, very quickly, in case it started. Once it started it couldn’t be stopped, not until the actual birth was complete. But sometimes, Paul knew it was best to do it this way, because then everyone realised how spontaneous the whole process was. He knew Huck would thank him, later.

  “OK”, he said to the six bodies huddled around Huck, “I want you all to hum, like this”.

  Paul took a deep breath and started, well, humming. His eyes were closed and he hummed and hummed some more. No one noticed Helen turning down the dimmer switch and the room went dark, not completely dark, but dark enough. From hidden speakers a wailing sound appeared, or more accurately, whale music.

  Over the music Paul shouted just one word: “GO”.

  It was to Paul’s credit that he had discovered through much trial and a great deal of error that his particular form of rebirthing required almost no practice; in fact, that it was best conducted with as little practice as possible seriously troubled him.

  Huck’s version of events, as recounted for some years later, did not seem to match up to the experience of everyone else that day. What Paul witnessed was, by his standards, fairly routine. As soon as he said ‘go’, as was always the case, without exception, it started. The first sign was always very heavy breathing from the ‘baby’.

  More often than not a muffled sniffling could be heard from within the assembled, tightly-knit bodies. Huck was no exception, except his sniffling soon developed into the loudest, eeriest cries Paul had ever heard. Huck’s heavily exaggerated breathing and loud, soulful cries disturbed Helen who thought it best to ‘hang around’, now feeling ever-so-slightly guilty at the pre-planned Huck set up.

  Paul also hovered around, ready to intervene or lend a guiding hand, as might be required.

  “Stay tight, keep with him” Paul whispered, loud enough for the group to hear, and respond. Soon the collective mass of bodies was heaving around all over the place, groans and crying coming loud and fast from the baby, Huck ‘the micro-psycho’, who was now in the throes of being seriously reborn. Helen realised what a stroke of genius it was to have Betty positioned at ‘No. 8’ as Paul sometimes described it.

  The group quickly picked up on Huck’s rhythm. He pushed a bit, struggled a bit, stopped and then started again. All the while he cried and cried some more. Everyone, except Paul, was surprised as to how controlled it all was. Huck was strong enough to break free at any time of his choosing but he seemed to exert just enough force to enable the group to contain him. Eventually both the group and Huck seemed to know when the time was right.

  Annie picked up on Huck’s readiness and felt the time had arrived to let him free. She let the grip around his head loosen and Huck sort of spurted out through Annie’s aching arms away from the group, into a mass of a blubbering newborn babyness.

  Annie spontaneously re-positioned herself and cradled Huck’s head in her arms, stroking his sweating forehead. “There, there, my little sweetie, there, there.”

  How long did it take? About average, Paul reckoned – twenty, maybe twenty-five, minutes. To Huck, and the others, it had been an eternity; a very tiring and physically demanding eternity.

  Huck held tightly onto Annie’s arms as though he might disappear down some black hole if he loosened his grip, tears flowing freely and without inhibition.

  “Thank you, Annie, thank you.” That’s all Huck could manage to say, but it was enough.

  The rest of the group lay around in various states of disbelief and exhaustion; one by one they spontaneously reformed around Annie and Huck, creating a closely-knit group. Everyone was crying. No one noticed the precise point at which the background music had stopped. What they did remember was Paul’s next ‘announcement’.

  “OK, everyone. All together – ‘Happy Birthday to you’ – come you all let’s hear it – ‘Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday, dear Hu-uck, Happy Birthday to you’.” The group gamely joined in and then erupted with a very loud and spontaneous cheer. Within moments their tears had turned to laughter, as loud as belly-aching laughter gets; except for Huck, who was still sobbing quietly.

  “Jesus” said Betty. “That was tougher than when I gave birth to my daughter.” The thought of Betty’s teenage daughter, Diane, appeared too much to Betty who collapsed again into tears.

  Helen looked long and hard at Richard who was rolling around the floor, clutching his aching ribs, in the throes of uncontrolled hysterical laughter. Helen turned her steely gaze towards Paul, and whispered ‘thank you’.

  5

  Tracy was lying wide awake, her mind swirling with all sorts of fragmented details and worrying thoughts. So many little episodes of her cosy life started, for the first time, to raise questions – why did her premier league footballer-husband Martin have so many mobiles, why did the home telephone go dead so often when she answered, why wasn’t Martin at training when he said he was, why did a room go silent when she came in, why did her own mother change the subject when questions about Martin’s fidelity were raised, why did Martin always head for the shower as soon as he got home? Why did the very thought of a double cheeseburger make her think of her sister, Cheryl? And of course there were the constant rumours and the frequent, frantic meetings with lawyers. Why had she remembered the phrase super injunction? Most of all Tracy wondered: “Why am I here? It should be Martin here, not me”.

  Tracy knew it was time to go. The penny had dropped, big time. She remembered overhearing – unseen – one of Martin’s team mates from the far side of her enormous kitchen. The two of them were talking as if they were in a crowded bar. Tracy tried really hard to remember the detail; it was like trying to putting together two jigsaws which had got all muddled up. She remembered being about five years old, with her aunt Nessie, having the same problem. “The first thing you have to do my angel, is to separate out the different pieces”, Nessie had told her.

  The conversation she had overheard, for some reason, always troubled her. It started off OK, something like: ‘I don’t know why they don’t get it, Martin. I mean humping the wife is like having the best fillet steak, ever.” Tracy remembered that bit; it was quite sweet, in its own way. Then Martin had told a joke: “What did the Big Mac say to the Wag You?” Tracy was trying to remember the punch line.

  Yes, that was it, Tracy finally separated out the pieces of the conversation she wasn’t supposed to have heard, and it must have gone something like this: “You may be sweeter and more expensive, but you’ll never hit the spot with a wag, you know”.

  It meant nothing at the time, but Tracy was now putting the pieces together. There was the final comment, from Martin’s friend, who hadn’t finished. After Martin’s joke the friend had said… Tracy had to concentrate to remember: “Listen, Martin. What I was going to say was: ‘I don’t know why they don’t get it. I mean humping the wife is like having the best fillet steak, ever. But sometimes you just have to have a big, juicy, maxed-out, double cheeseburger with crap relish.”

  Tracy at the time had taken no notice of the last bit; maybe she had been distracted and was trying to concentr
ating on two things at once. She had simply enjoyed hearing Martin having a laugh with his mate. Now, the words began to haunt her as they began to unravel, play and replay over and over again in her mind: ‘sometimes you just have to have a big, juicy, filthy, maxed-out, double cheeseburger with crap relish’. In a bizarre way those words reminded her of quite a few of her ‘friends’, including her own sister, Cheryl.

  Tracy felt as if some invisible arrow had been ripped out of her aching heart. It felt so painful, but brought such relief at the same time. The truth was that Martin was at it, all the time. This much Tracy now knew, for sure. Tracy began to wonder who Martin had taken liberties with, and the answer as Tracy also knew was ‘probably everyone’, including her sister, Cheryl. Tracy remembered one time shouting at her: “Cheryl, I’ll tell you what. If you are what you eat, you’re a great, big, stinking, well cheap double cheeseburger”.

  Tracy felt a single tear trickle down the side of her face. Something had happened. It was frightening, but OK. Tracy began to cry and was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of love for her beautiful little baby daughter whom she missed with all her heart, and at that point longed for only one single thing: to cradle Tracy junior in her arms.

  Tracy looked at her phone. It was 3 a.m., the name of the club where it had all started with Martin and their first heavenly encounter in the gent’s toilet. Someone had once commented to Tracy that a quickie in the gent’s bog was a tad on the tacky side but Tracy remembered the frenzied shag as being ‘well-romantic’.

  So, it was time. Tracy crept out of bed, got dressed and disappeared into the darkness not knowing how she’d find her way home but that was the only thought in her mind: to get home and have it out – with everyone, starting with her mum then her ever-so-sweet-and-innocent big wee sister, Cheryl, big time.

  Tracy felt a surge of anger as her mind cleared: she was being driven crazy by everyone around her trying to cover-up Martin’s uncontrolled shagging. Her loving husband had set her up to be sorted at some rehab place, well out of town, to get her out of the way and shut up her up. The truth hurt, and it was time to share the pain.