I am reminded of something as I leave: ‘Paradox of the Actor’, an essay written by prominent historical philosopher Denis Diderot. Abstractedly, I recall a class on the subject. Diderot believed the actor should be ‘free of sensibility’, likening him to a blank slate. Waiting to be drawn upon, the slate sits unblemished. An empty vessel, it becomes filled by observations which are then poured into the performance; the actor has the ability to shape his observations to become anything or anyone.
I liked that metaphor. But what happens when you strip away the personas, I wonder, as I wait for my taxi. When the performance is poured into the audience and the vessel is empty, where is the person beneath?
Forty-Seven
JASON
After fumbling to open the front door and get into the house, Karla came into the kitchen. ‘I thought you’d be gone,’ she said, clearly surprised to find he’d come back after dropping the kids off at school.
Stifling a sigh, Jason continued to unload the dishwasher to make room for the detritus that still littered the breakfast table. It was fairly obvious why Karla had struggled to get her key in the lock. He could smell the alcohol on her breath. She’d had a good night then, out with the ‘friends’ she didn’t care to share details about.
‘There’s fresh coffee in the jug,’ he said, assuming she could use some.
Prising her pumps off and kicking them into a corner, Karla didn’t answer him. She didn’t look at him as she headed towards the coffee machine. Jason didn’t pursue it. There wasn’t much point when they couldn’t even communicate civilly for the sake of the kids any more. His fault. He hadn’t meant it to be this way, but he couldn’t change things any more than he could change who he was. At least he now knew why Fenton had always seemed to openly loathe him. The feeling was mutual. It was small compensation that the world’s smuggest fat cat and self-proclaimed ‘entrepreneurial genius’ was getting his just deserts for the destruction he’d caused.
How the mighty had fallen, Jason thought, a sour taste in his mouth as he recalled how he’d seen him in action that day at his offices. If he hadn’t been appalled by the sheer obnoxiousness of the man before that, there was now no doubt in his mind. The media had finally named him, thanks to Abbie’s courage in outing him. In so doing, other people felt encouraged to come forward, which had started a ball rolling that Jason guessed would only gather momentum, injunction or not. Naturally, Fenton was still denying the allegations, but while Karla and her mother had closed their eyes to his odious behaviour, Jason had been on to him for years. Even without knowing what he now did, he’d always thought Robert Fenton was a pitiless and ruthless bastard. People simply didn’t matter to him. If he had to trample them underfoot in order to preserve what he’d ‘fought for’, so be it, even if those people were his own flesh and blood.
Jason supposed he should be feeling some kind of satisfaction. Strangely, he still didn’t. All he felt was battle-worn. He simply wanted out. Closing the dishwasher door, he braced himself to make his announcement. He had no idea what her reaction would be. Apathy or anger? Relief? He just couldn’t read her any more. ‘I’m going,’ he said quietly.
‘And coming back when you feel like it, no doubt,’ Karla said, pouring coffee into her mug.
‘No.’ Jason pulled in a long breath. ‘I won’t be back, Karla,’ he continued carefully. He had to do this now. He’d searched his conscience over and over, but his mind was made up. He’d stayed home specifically to catch her and deliver the news. He hoped it wouldn’t destroy her, but this, being in a relationship that couldn’t survive, should never have been. She needed to be free of him. To be able to move forwards without him.
At least selling the business would leave her debt-free and with some funds in the bank, though he doubted he would get much credit for that. Jason prayed that his kids would understand, that they would realise nothing could ever diminish his love for them. But the raw reality was that he was about to turn their world upside down, no matter how hard he tried to rationalise what he was doing. It had to be better than them hearing the arguments, feeling the antagonism, though, didn’t it? With Karla seeming more unpredictable lately, determined to do her own thing, and him basically miserable, this environment couldn’t be good for them.
Karla put down her mug and turned to look at him as if she hadn’t quite registered what he was saying. ‘You’re… leaving?’ She laughed, her expression a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment.
Closing his eyes, Jason nodded regretfully and supressed an urge to go to her and hold her.
‘To be with some online…slut?’ Karla stared at him, her eyes now a kaleidoscope of emotion, from shock through to heart-wrenching, palpable hurt.
Jason kneaded his forehead. He didn’t answer. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t lead to yet another argument.
‘When?’ Karla demanded, lifting her chin, her eyes narrowing.
‘Soon.’ Jason glanced guiltily away. Whether or not there was any future with Jessie, he had no choice. How the hell was he supposed to tell Karla that? ‘Today.’
‘Now?While the kids are at school? Without telling them?’ Karla’s expression was one of astonishment, and then her eyes darkened. ‘Coward!’ she screamed suddenly, causing him to step back.
The coffee jug she launched across the room missed him by millimetres, splintering against the wall to send sharp slivers of glass shooting across the floor. The mug hit its target, white-hot pain searing through his cheekbone as it glanced off his face.
‘Karla! Stop!’ Raising his hands to defend himself, Jason backed into the hall.
‘Get out!’ she seethed, raising the milk bottle, the next thing that came to hand.
‘Karla, don’t,’ Jason tried. ‘Don’t do this. Please, for the kids’ sakes, can’t we just—?’
‘The kids?’ She stared at him, her blue eyes wild. ‘Thekids? Go!’ she screamed, louder. ‘Now! You complete bastard!’
Jason was shaken. He’d hurt her, in the worst possible way a man could hurt a woman, but he hadn’t considered she would be capable of actual violence. Seeing her gaze sweep the kitchen, probably searching for a more suitable weapon, he backed further away, pressing the back of his hand gingerly to his cheek.
He hadn’t intended to take much. Essentials, that was all. A couple of hastily packed bags were already in the boot of his car. He’d aimed to stay at a hotel while Jessie was with her family. Now, he was wondering whether he should contact her to let her know he wouldn’t be able to pick her up from the airport. He couldn’t leave Karla like this.Jesus. He stopped on the stairs, panic rising inside him, as he heard cupboards opening and slamming, crockery smashing. Drawers opening, contents spewing out to clang noisily to the ceramic floor. Cutlery?
Shit.Imagining her selecting the sharpest knife she could find, he debated whether to call someone. Who? Her mother had gone off somewhere, seeking sanctuary from the press. Should he ring the police? God, no. He couldn’t do that. Hearing her sobbing downstairs as he reached the bedroom, Jason felt the guilt he’d been carrying threaten to rise up and choke him.
A slow swallow sliding down his throat, his antennae on red alert, he waited, and then, hearing nothing but sudden stillness from down below, he moved quietly across to the wardrobe, yanking the case from the top to pack the last of the things he needed in.
He was grabbing stuff from inside the wardrobe when he heard the creak of a floorboard on the landing. Glancing quickly towards the door, he saw Karla standing there, not moving. Her face devoid of any particular emotion, she was simply watching him; continued to watch him, calmly, as he pushed his clothes into the case. Jason wasn’t sure which was more worrying, the explosion of anger downstairs or this, the ominous silence of suppressed fury.
