The More You Ignore Me Read Online Free Page A

that kept rising to the
surface. Keith only found this out some years later when Grandpap had had too
much cider and related it fondly as one of the few stories that showed Wobbly
and Bighead in a good light.
    In the
porch with Smelly, Keith attempted to get some more information from Alice but
she realised that she shouldn’t have said anything and her mouth set into a
determined line, out of which came no more details of the day’s proceedings.
She looked a bit frightened, thought Keith, and he left her alone. Together
they tucked Smelly into bed, even though Smelly didn’t want to be tucked into
bed, and then Keith took Alice up to her scruffy little room and read her a
particularly silly story to try and take both their minds off the lurking
explosion downstairs.
    When
Gina had gone to bed that night, exhausted by her racing thoughts and rejection
by Hereford’s weather forecaster, Keith phoned Marie Henty the local GP, whom he
had got to know well during Gina’s last psychotic episode. He felt he could
tell her anything and he even thought that if he asked her to come round and
give him a cuddle, she wouldn’t refuse, such was her capacity to fling herself
wholeheartedly and empathetically into her work. Keith had no idea that it was
he himself who provoked these feelings because of his sweetness, his humour and
his grinding, thankless job of looking after Gina at her most mad.
    ‘Marie,
sorry about the time of night, it’s Keith,’ he said, causing her stomach to
give a slight lurch.
    ‘Is it
Gina?’ she said.
    ‘I
think she’s on the road to Bonkersville again,’ said Keith, trying to sound
relaxed about the fact that his wife was metamorphosing once more into a scary,
stigmatised member of society. ‘She’s been chasing that weather forecaster off
the local news, according to Alice. She took her to his house today and there
was some sort of incident that Alice won’t talk about.’
    Marie
wanted to laugh.
    ‘What
do you want to do?’ she said with her fingers crossed.
    ‘Could
you talk to her?’ said Keith.
    The
crossed fingers having failed to secure the right result, Marie asked a question
she already knew the answer to.
    ‘Can
you get her to the surgery?’ she said.
    Keith
did a horsey sort of snort down the phone.
    ‘You’re
joking, aren’t you?’ he said.
    ‘Yes, I
suppose so,’ said Marie. ‘Shall I try my usual very normal stroll past the cottage,
bearing in mind that last time she threw a cabbage at me?’
    ‘Would
you?’ said Keith. ‘Be ever so grateful.’
    ‘All
right,’ said Marie. ‘Tomorrow afternoon after surgery.’
    ‘Thanks,’
said Keith. ‘Tomorrow it is then.’
    ‘Was
that bastard?’ said a voice and Keith turned to see Alice sitting on the stairs
in her teddy pyjamas.
    ‘No,
silly,’ he said. ‘Now back into bed before Mum catches you.’ And given the
circumstances, that was all he needed to say.
     
    The following afternoon,
Gina saw Marie Henty’s head going along the top of the hedge, back again and
then past again, until, curious to know why their GP seemed to be out for a
very boring walk, she went outside.
    ‘Marie,’
she said. ‘What the hell do you want?’
    ‘Well,’
said Marie, ‘I haven’t seen you at the surgery for a bit and I just thought I’d
pop down and see how you’re doing.’
    ‘Bullshit,’
said Gina. ‘Someone’s been talking about me. It’s not that creep John Jarvis,
is it?’
    ‘I’m
not allowed to say,’ said Marie, thereby getting Keith off the hook and
implicating John Jarvis, a good result.
    ‘I’m
fine,’ said Gina. ‘In fact, couldn’t be better. ‘Her appearance belied this
statement. She looked unwashed and out of control and Marie wondered how Keith
could have let it go this far without trying to do something. But she knew the
answer really Keith’s head was buried in the comforting mire of denial, because
Gina’s threats to kill him last time and her screeching accusations of betrayal
as she