Dying to Live

Chapter 33 - Beer and Biscuits

Now, just four days after waving goodbye to Mr Mookjai, I'm sitting in Marty's front room drinking a cold beer. This was my best mate's dream since he hooked up with me in Bangkok and now his dream is coming true. Mine too.

"Cheers, buddy."

"Cheers, mate," I say as we chink bottles. "Where's Brenda? I'm sure she'll be glad to see you home safe and sound."

"Listen, Dave, there are a few things I didn't want to tell you 'til we were home."

"Things like what?" I couldn't think of anything which would bring my mood down. I was out of prison, out of Bangkok, there was no news which could wreck the feeling of joy which I felt right now.

"Well, Brenda's left me."

"What? Why? Shit. Come on, you guys were perfect for each other."

"Well, you know the hundred thousand dollars which went to Mr Mookjai?"

"Yep."

"Well, Hazel didn't send it. She didn't send anything."

"So where did the money come from?" I know the answer before he says anything.

"I re-mortgaged the house."

"Fuck," I say. "And what did Brenda have to say about that?" I know where this is going.

"Well, at first I didn't tell her. In fact, I never volunteered the information, she sort of found out by herself."

"And when she did find out?"

"She went crazy. Shit-fucking, head-popping crazy. She screamed and shouted and threw things at me; some pretty heavy things, I might add. She said if I spent the money on anything to do with you, she'd leave me. She demanded I choose between her and you. I chose you."

Tears run down my face. I can't control the sobbing. My body shakes and my hands take on a life of their own and wrap themselves round my head. All the horror of the last few months comes together with Marty's revelation in an outpouring of emotion. I'm blubbering and I can't do anything about it. The trigger was hearing about Marty's selfless generosity. Marty, the guy I thought might be letting me die just so he could inherit my money. How wrong could I have been? I am one stupid bastard.

"Marty, I'm sorry."

"No need, mate, you've been through a lot. A big hearty man-cry will do you the world of good. I can't believe what you've had to endure."

"It's not that. I'm sorry about what I thought; what I thought about you."

"Whatever it was, don't worry about it."

"I thought you and Mookjai might have conspired to steal Hazel's money. I thought you were maybe going to let me die so you could get your hands on my money. You know, inherit it."

"I told you, don't worry about it. You were in a dark place, I can understand how bad thoughts could worm their way into your head."

A sip of cold beer and Marty's warm words calm me down. Sharing that particular deep, dark thought was a good idea, I think holding that one inside would have crippled me over time.

"I've got money in the bank, you know that, I'll pay you back. You pay off the mortgage and sort things out with Brenda. I'm going to get your life back to the way it was, I swear I am."

"There's no rush, we can sort it all out in due course. Hold on, what the fuck am I saying? Give me the fucking money, now," he shouts doing a lousy impersonation of Bob Geldoff appealing for Live Aid donations. "It would be nice to have some cash before you die."