Ball Bag

"You have a visitor."

"What, another one? Who is it?"

"Unknown. Would you like me to attempt facial recognition?"

Pause.

"No. Bit creepy. Just tell me what you can. Another woman?"

"Yes. Female. Lone. Estimate 30-35 years."

"Fine. Go and clean the oven, I'll deal with the guest."

"Understood."

*

Rita was pink. That was my first impression of her.

You know those long, pink balloons that clowns make into poodles at kids' parties? She looked like that, ina bad blonde wig.

It wasn't actually a wig. Dull and coarse, with a thick fringe that tickled her eyes and made her blink too much.

"Can I help you?" I said. Ridiculous, really. I know why she's here. Why do I go through the pantomime of making them say it?

She stutters a bit, and I soften.

"Maybe you should come in."

She steps over the threshold, clutching her garish blue leather handbag like a shield. It clashes terribly with her complexion. I invite her to sit.

"Can I get you anything?"

She shakes her head, still gripping that hideous bag. Her knuckles look flaky and sore.

I don't think she's going to say it. It might have to be me. My mind races. How can I put this?

"What have you heard about me?"

She stops chewing her lip, and croaks, almost too quietly,

"That you help people. Women. Like me."

"Would it be alright if Jac puts your phone in the other room? Just in case there's any spyware on it... Thank you."

"Oh, lan wouldn't... I mean, he's not controlling. Not in that way."

Flustered, she hands it over anyway. I steal a sidelong glance at Jac's bottom as he's leaving the room. It looks like he's been doing those squats I asked him to do. Excellent.

"In what way is he controlling, then?"

She goes even pinker, and her fringe seems to bristle.

"He... umm... "

I'm not a counsellor or a therapist. I'm not sure the right thing to say. Morally, but also in terms of making her spit it out.

The silence seems to do the trick.

"He wants to open the marriage."

I think the poor woman might combust with embarrassment or shame.

And how do you feel about that...

It's obvious to me, a perfect stranger, how she feels. And this... this Ian, this ball bag, is still pressuring her to do it.

I wonder if she's so pink and flaky all over, and then do my best to chase that thought alt of my head.

Good grief, what if she is? How self conscious must she be?

What a ballbag.

Look, I'm not doing this for the money alright? It does make me some money, which I'm going to need if the shit ever hits the fan. I do want to help people. People like me. Stuck. Unhappy. That's why I ask her,

"Why don't you leave him?"

Some part of me, the part that should have been a therapist, manages to stop the word "just" from joining that sentence.

She twists the handles on the handbag.

"We have a son with... He has some additional needs. Raising him, caring for him... It's a two person job. I know what you're going to say, and you're right, I could leave, I could be a single mum, I could... " She trails off. I can see how exhausted she is, just thinking about it.

"I've thought it all through. I'd have to give up my job to care for him full-time. My job is the only thing keeping me sane. I asked Janice about cutting down to part-time hours, but... Well, it's just not possible right now. So I'm..."

"Stuck." We say it together.

"Listen," I tell her, a plan forming in my mind, "I think I can help you..."

We work through some of the basics. Ian's mental state for one. I'm still unwilling to try it on someone who isn't stable.

"It does cost," I warn her. "This thing, the device that we pu... It doesn't come cheap."

"Oh." She looks glum.

"It's fine. We can work something out."

"I can't afford a loan. Ian would notice monthly repayments..."

"No, no, nothing like that. I had no money either, when I did it. We just have to be smart about it, that's all."

"Okay," she says, sitting up straight. "What do I need to do?"

"First, you need to tell Ian that you've decided you do want to open the marriage."

Rita looks horrified.

"It's not real," I say, trying to soothe her. "Then we'll tell him you just need some time to get used to the idea. Tell him you feel a bit self conscious and you want to go to the gym, get in shape. That will buy us some time for you to bond with your Al."

Her tiny little eyes look enormous.

To be contained...

+