The More You Ignore Me Read Online Free PDF

desire to walk away from a crisis. I could take
Alice, he thought, and we could spend a lovely day at the seaside, have fish
and chips and just walk along the waves until she gets bored. We could drive to
Aberystwyth, find a little B and B and then come back the next day and see if
she’s still up there.
    But
poor Keith wasn’t made of that kind of stuff. Irritating, demanding, out of
control as she was, the lovely, wild Gina was still under there somewhere and
he just wanted her to be better and to be the weird and wonderful woman he had
married. He knew at this point that there was no getting away from treating her
against her will. She must go into hospital and suffer the indignity of forced
injections and twenty-four-hour surveillance by the motley crew of people who
staffed what the locals called ‘the bin’. But how best to do it? He knew the
police would take one look, laugh inwardly and drag her screaming from her
perch with all the empathy of a group of teenage boys given sole responsibility
for a younger brother. Would Marie Henty be a better bet? Or what about Doug
from the shop? He might help and at least he had some experience of this sort
of thing. Keith ran into the house and dialled the number. Doug picked up after
one ring.
    ‘Doug,
I’m sorry,’ these days Keith seemed to preface every conversation with these
words, ‘but I’ve got a problem at the cottage. Gina’s on the roof, starkers,
and won’t come down.’
    ‘Righto,’
said Doug, as matter-of-fact as if Keith had asked for his newspapers to be
cancelled for the weekend. ‘Give us five minutes.’
    The ability
of time to stretch itself never ceased to amaze Keith. He heard the chug of
Doug’s ancient Escort in the lane after what seemed to be forty minutes and yet
when he glanced at his watch, Keith saw that it had only taken six minutes.
Doug parked his car in the lane and walked up to the cottage. His red,
quizzical face appeared round the hedge first — he seemed to be checking this
wasn’t some sort of joke before he dragged the rest of his body after it.
    ‘Blimey,
Keith,’ said Doug, ‘see what you mean. We’ll need to get her down and take her
to hospital, get her sectioned and then everything will be fine. Just give me a
brief picture of how long this has all been going on and what it involves.’
    ‘Well,
she’s been deteriorating for weeks,’ said Keith, ‘but this very mad behaviour’s
only been going on for a few days. She’s obsessed with this weather forecaster
on telly and has been to his house, not really sleeping very well, talking a
bit of rubbish, you know.’
    ‘Oh
yes,’ said Doug, for he did. ‘What we gonna do then? Shall I get a ladder up
and talk her down?’
    ‘Do you
think you can?’ said Keith, more grateful than he could say to this big,
bumbling giant of a man for taking the responsibility off his shoulders.
    ‘Dunno,’
said Doug, ‘but I’ll give it a try.’
    Keith
produced a rusty ladder from the shed and Doug laid it up against the house.
    ‘What’s
going on?’ said Gina, suspicion evident in her voice.
    Keith
shouted up, ‘Doug’s coming up to talk to you.’
    ‘Oh,
not that ginger fat arse,’ said Gina loudly.
    ‘Sorry,’
said Keith.
    ‘That’s
all right,’ said Doug. ‘I’ve heard far worse than that, you know, mate,’ but a
little arrow of pain still flew directly towards his heart, a minor injury in
the lexicon of the tragedy of the fat bloke, re-lived time and time again at
the hands of drunks, teenagers and mad people.
    Doug
struggled up the ladder, with Keith at the bottom trying to control every
seismic wobble as the ample frame above him neared its destination.
    ‘Hello,
Gina.’
    ‘Fuck
off, Doug.’
    Aw,
Gina, come on, you know you need help.’
    Sounds
like the title of a country and western song, thought Keith.
    ‘Come
on down, Gina, you look freezing up there,’ Doug persisted.
    ‘Well,
actually, if you’d listened to little Teddy Fairfax, you’d