Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [172]
What on earth was happening to him? Could it be jet-lag? he wondered swimmily. But he’d been back twelve days, it couldn’t be jet-lag.
Well, there was only one other conclusion he could draw. One sole, unavoidable conclusion.
He was having a nervous breakdown.
53
Ashling woke up and felt as if she’d been run over by a juggernaut in the night. Her ear throbbed, her bones hurt, weariness gripped her, but who cared? Last night had been great. The party had not only been a huge success, but lots of fun too.
For a moment she didn’t know whether or not she was alone in the bed. Then she remembered that she’d mislaid Marcus at some point in the evening and that she’d come home by herself. No problem. Now that the magazine was up and running, life could return to normal.
Aching all over, she dragged herself to the couch, where she smoked and watched morning telly. Her brain felt bruised. She was heinously late for work, but she didn’t care. The unspoken consensus was that everyone could roll in at whatever time they liked today. Eventually she reluctantly washed and dressed herself and it was eleven o’clock by the time she hit the street. It was raining. Dirty low September clouds hung over the city and the light was greeny-grey. A few yards from Ashling’s door Boo was sitting on the wet pavement. He was huddled into himself, his hair flattened against his skull, rivulets of rain running down his face. But as Ashling got nearer she noticed, with a hard bang to her heart, that it wasn’t the rain that was making his face wet. He was crying.
‘Boo, what’s wrong? Has something happened?’
He looked up at her, then his mouth gaped wide as a silent bawl overtook him. ‘Look at me.’ Covering his eyes with one hand, he used the other to indicate himself, his soaked dirty clothes, the absence of shelter over his head. ‘It’s so fucking degrading,’ he shuddered.
Ashling froze. Boo was usually so cheerful.
‘I’m hungry, I’m cold, I’m soaked, I’m dirty, I’m bored, I’m lonely and I’m scared!’ His face was contorted as he wept. ‘I’m tired of being hassled by the police, I’m tired of being pissed on by drunk stag parties, I’m tired of being treated like a piece of shit. They won’t even let me into the café across the road to buy a cup of tea. A takeaway.’
Ashling had never actually thought Boo enjoyed being homeless, but she hadn’t realized he hated it so much.
‘I get so much abuse. People tell me I’m a lazy bastard, that I should get a job. I’d fucking love a job. I hate begging, it’s so humiliating.’
‘Has something happened?’ Ashling asked. ‘That triggered all of this?’
‘No,’ he said thickly. ‘I’m just having a bad day.’
As Ashling wondered what to do, rain dripped off the spokes of her umbrella and dotted the back of her jacket with cold, wet blobs. She experienced a burst of frustration. Boo shouldn’t be her responsibility. She paid her taxes, the government should take care of people like him. How about letting him shelter in the lobby of her apartment block? But she couldn’t: she’d done that during a heavy thunderstorm earlier in the summer and some of the other residents had kicked up a fuss. So should she let him into her flat? She really ought to, yet fond of him though she was, she was nevertheless resistant. But he was so miserable…
She gave in. ‘Come on up to my place. Have a shower and a bite to eat. And you can stick your clothes in the washing machine.’
She was hoping he’d refuse and she could go on her way with a clear conscience, but he looked at her with forlorn gratitude. ‘Thanks,’ he gulped, then burst into tears again.
‘I won’t make a habit of this,’ he promised, as she led him up the stairs.
As soon as she saw him contrasted against her cleanish flat she realized just how filthy he was. His grimy jeans were flappy-loose against his pathetic, skinny frame, his pale impish face was smeared with filth and his knuckles were cracked with dirt.
‘I smell,’ he admitted, shamefaced. ‘I’m sorry.’
Something