Davies Humans, Being

1. Auflage 2019
ISBN: 978-1-78864-088-6
Verlag: Cinnamon Press
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection

E-Book, Englisch, 266 Seiten

Humans, Being follows the lives of two humans, being. Vic and Mia are two fortysomethings struggling to cope with divorce, custody battles, infidelity, money worries and dating sites. Through their friendship, they explore the pitfalls of modern life and their pursuit of happiness leads them to ask what is normal and whether it is okay to live outside the norms that society dictates. Funny, touching, and thought-provoking in equal measure, Humans, Being reveals what it's like to be a middle-aged human in the twenty-first century.

Gareth Davies is a teacher, writer and storyteller. After living in Prague for nearly twenty years, he moved back home temporally to Cardiff in 2015 to do an MA in Creative Writing at Cardiff University. Temporary became permanent and Gareth is now an active member of the literary scene in Cardiff, being a frequent visitor and performer at events such as Roath Writers, First Thursday, and Storytelling at Milgis. He has had several short stories published in magazines and kept a daily short story blog running for five years. Gareth has self-published two previous novels; his latest, Humans, Being, will be published by Cinnamon Press. As well as writing, Gareth is developing his skills as a storyteller specialising in stories from Wales and China.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Davies, Gareth

Leseproben

January 2016


Vic looked out over the audience and wondered what the fuck he was doing there. Out of the sixty or so people in the club,  about ten were laughing, there were some smiles, but mostly stony faces. The office gossip or the girlfriend’s tonsils seemed far more entertaining. At least they were bored, not abusive. He had no energy to deal with hecklers tonight. Knowing his luck, the hecklers would be funnier than he was. ‘You could track my relationship with my wife by the size of our beds. We started with a single bed in my old flat and that was plenty big enough for what we needed. Then, when we moved in together, we got a double. It was only a small double but still it felt huge and we used every inch of it. Then, when we bought a place, we bought a king-size. Oh, how I loved that king-size; lots of room to play, experiment and have fun. Look, I’ve got a photo of it in my wallet. On second thoughts, perhaps I shouldn’t show you that.’ Why didn’t they laugh at that? That usually got at least a titter. ‘I began to wonder what was going on when she suggested single duvets. She used to wrap herself up in it like a caterpillar in a cocoon. It was impenetrable. It was a chastity duvet.’ Nothing. Bastards! He pressed on. ‘I knew the relationship was in trouble when she insisted on buying a super king-sized bed…’ He looked out at the audience. He hated every single one of them. He took a deep breath and ploughed on. ‘It was massive. We were basically sleeping in different postcodes. She could have had a lover in her half and I’d never have known.’ Still no laughter. ‘She claimed it was because our son used to come into our bed at night but, when she put the barbed wire down the middle, I began to get the message, it was time to go.’ Three people laughed. He got the message. Time to go. ‘You’ve been a wonderful audience.’ He left the stage to a lukewarm round of applause.


‘How was your show last night?’ Mia asked. ‘Bloody awful, barely a cackle,’ Vic said. I don’t know why I bother.’ The lunchtime trade was thinning out, leaving the place empty apart from Vic, Mia and the hard core freelancers using the trendy café as office space. Vic stirred his coffee. ‘Maybe I should give it up. it plays havoc with my social life. When am I supposed to meet anyone? I’ve got Elis all week and then work all weekend. It’s impossible.’ Vic looked at his best friend with that hapless look that he’d perfected. He took a mouthful of coffee. ‘You’re lucky. You’ve got the weekends to yourself. Poor Kylie has no weekends. She’s looking after Elis.’ ‘But I’m working.’ ‘Surely women are throwing themselves at you at gigs.’ Mia toyed with her phone. ‘I wish.’ Mia’s phone buzzed. She looked at it and flipped it over. ‘Well okay, how about the mums on the school run? There must be a few desperate housewives there.’ ‘It’s mostly men who drop their kids off.’ ‘Really? Any nice ones?’ Mia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. ‘Haven’t you got Stan?’ Mia looked at her phone again. ‘God knows what’s going on there,’ she said. ‘It’s been two days since he was last in touch. I don’t know if I miss him or if I should report him missing.’ ‘I don’t know why you’re still with him.’ ‘He’s lovely.’ She hesitated. ‘When he’s lovely.’ ‘And a dickhead when he’s not.’ Mia nodded. ‘But he’s all I’ve got and I don’t wanna turn out like you.’ She bit the skin on her little finger. ‘Charming.’ Vic scooped some foam out of his cup. ‘Well look at you, moping around, feeling sorry for yourself. You’ll never get a woman looking like that.’ ‘I’m not moping.’ ‘Could have fooled me. Smile more. Stop waiting for something to happen.’ Mia turned the phone over and over on the table. ‘Are you expecting a call?’ ‘Sorry, just force of habit.’ Mia, put her phone down. ‘Hey—’ Vic looked at his watch. ‘I better go, I’ve got to get back to Bristol tonight. Wish me luck.’ ‘Good luck.’


Mia watched Vic leave the café and turned her phone over. Three messages. She smiled. She began to type out a reply, then hesitated. Her little finger rested on her lip. If she pressed Send, there was no going back; the frogs would be out of the box and, even if she did manage to get them all back in, she’d never be able to clean up the mess. But if she deleted the message, she’d be stuck in the box with the frogs forever. What the hell? Surely frogs couldn’t make that much mess, could they? It’d only taken twenty minutes but felt more like three hours. Mia had been watching the door like a cat ready to pounce. Each time someone walked in, she either cursed them for not being Andy or decided it was a sign she should stop being silly and cancel it. Each minute that passed was another chance to end this foolishness. But she didn’t move. Why hadn’t she told Vic about Andy? She told him everything about Stan; all the ins and outs, all the broken promises and make-up sex. So why not about Andy? Was it because she was ashamed? No, it was because there was nothing to tell. She was meeting a colleague for coffee, that’s all. It was completely innocent and if she told herself that enough times, maybe she’d believe it. ‘Hello Mia.’ Mia had abandoned her vigil for less than a minute and that was when Andy walked in. At least she hadn’t been staring at the door like one of those love-sick teenagers in her class. She looked at Andy’s boyish grin and smiled. The butterflies flitting in her stomach suggested this meeting wasn’t innocent. ‘What can I get you?’ he asked. ‘Oolong tea for me, please.’ Jesus, where did that come from? She’d never drunk oolong in her life. ‘Oolong, ooh, there’s posh,’ said Andy, with a smile. She smiled back and watched him as he sauntered over to the counter, completely at ease with himself. This could be fun, Mia thought. ‘Fancy coming back to mine? I’ve got a lovely bottle of wine.’ Andy said, when the drinks were done. ‘No, I’ve got work to do,’ Mia said. ‘Fine, I’ll have to drink it myself.’ ‘Okay but just wine. No funny business.’
‘Do you have a cleaner?’ Mia said, looking around Andy’s flat. ‘No, why?’ Andy held out a glass of wine. ‘Thanks. I’ve been to single men’s flats before and yours is suspiciously clean.’ ‘Okay, you caught me.’ Andy stepped in closer. Mia knew what the look in Andy’s eyes meant. She’d let him kiss her but nothing more. Andy’s tongue explored her mouth. ‘Let’s go through to the bedroom,’ he suggested. Mia nodded but promised herself she wouldn’t let this go too far, she’d keep her knickers on and her legs crossed.
Mia listened to Andy panting next to her. She stroked his hairy chest. He cwtched her closer. She looked at the condom and thought how funny they looked after use. Her phone buzzed. Now, she thought, typical. She sat up and reached for her bag and looked at the screen. ‘I’d better go,’ she said. ‘Stan?’ ‘No, it’s my son. Wondering where I am.’ She swung her legs out of bed. ‘Let’s do this again.’ Andy kissed her bare back. ‘Soon.’ As she drove home she wondered what Andy was up to. He didn’t seem to care that she was with Stan. Was that weird? Maybe it was a macho thing. Maybe he thought he could win her. She sighed. Never mind what Andy was up to, what was she up to?


It was beginning to rain as Vic left the club. It had been another hit and miss night. The routine about Kylie not having a shadow had gone down well but the bed material was getting worse. He put his head down and crossed the road. ‘Hey!’ Vic looked around and saw a young woman across the street. Assuming she was a prostitute, he kept walking. ‘Vic,’ she called out. The young woman was smiling and heading towards him. ‘I loved your set. It was hilarious. I thought I’d say hello.’ This wasn’t happening, this didn’t happen, not to Vic. It might happen to other comedians but not to him. The rain became more intense. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I wondered if you’d like to go for a drink?’ The woman was older than he’d first thought but pretty, really pretty. ‘What, now?’ He looked at his watch. His first instinct was to say no, go home and watch YouTube videos. But he remembered Mia’s words. Don’t wait for things to happen. Vic softened his voice. ‘Yeah, I’d like that.’
The pub would have been completely empty if it hadn’t been for the old timer at the end of the bar, drinking himself to an early grave. They took a seat in a booth at the back. Vic smiled, sipped his sparkling water and picked up a beer mat from the table. ‘Did you really cook only half the spaghetti?’ Toni asked. Vic nodded. ‘Yep.’ He tapped the mat on the table. Toni laughed a little too enthusiastically and touched Vic’s arm. Vic looked...