(no subject)
20 March, 1987
Just desserts being a cushy job at the shop after a reduced sentence.
"Forgive and forget, Sissy," says Simon's father, patting him on the back. He had seen the murderous look in his son's eyes when he saw the offending drunk driver stacking shelves. Today, apparently, is his first day. Today is also Simon's thirty-seventh birthday. It's not looking to be a happy one.
His father repeats, "Forgive and forget."
Simon walks away before his father can share anymore pearls of wisdom. He walks for a few steps, then turns, reminding his father: "We have a meeting today at 12:30. Or did you forget?"
"I didn't forget."
Simon smirks, humorlessly. "Says a lot about your forgiving."
His father furrows his eyebrows, not sure how to respond. Simon turns away before his father's head explodes from confusion.
What Simon did not want to hear at this meeting was, "--and this is my son, Sissy." He hears it, anyway.
He corrects: "Simon." A tight grin, and extended hand. Handshakes, nods.
"Ignore Sissy," interrupts Simon's father. "No sense of fun." He pats his son on the back. His son grins the grin of a repressed axe murderer. It doesn't register.
He won't sell.
The store's dying, and his father won't sell.
Simon has stressed the importance of selling. There is no way they can save their store without the help of a third party. The customers are defecting to bigger and better supermarkets. Their shop cannot compete, yet Simon's father keeps yammering on about some legacy, about the importance of being independent, not understanding that independence and legacy doesn't matter in the face of bankruptcy. But, even though he is second-in-command, Simon has no power. What he says and does has little effect.
Angry, resigned, Simon takes leave of the shop toting a box of cigarettes that will be depleted by the next day. His father has complained that "Sissy" takes more cigarettes than the customers. Simon defends himself by saying that the figures would look bad because the cigarettes are dispersed among many customers. Combining their numbers, his father will clearly see that they bought more cigarettes than Simon. His father is right, however: Simon Skinner buys the most cigarettes from the shop than anyone else in Sandford.
Simon extracts one cigarette from this new case and lights it as walks to Cara's house. Cara is the most recent in a string of failed relationships. They are still together, but tumultuously, sex being the only glue that binds them together. Yet, Simon is fond of her. He tries very hard to be agreeable to her. He hasn't succeeded. He'll keep trying.
He's on cigarette #2 out of the box when he reaches her house. He can hear her practicing her cello. He hopes she can hear him knocking on the door. It takes a few loud knocks for that to happen. She greets him with her usual expression of exasperation and lust. Except there is far more exasperation than lust today. Far too much of it. "Yes?" she asks impatiently.
"Hi."
"What do you want?"
"I--I was wondering if you were busy tonight."
"Why?"
"Well, today is my birthday, and I'd like to do something. See a play, perhaps. I hear the Dramatic Arts Society is putting on a terrific performance of The Lion in Winter tonight..."
"You can see it by yourself."
"I'd like to go with you."
"You're not going to and you won't ever. I don't want to see you anymore. Goodbye."
She slams the door shut. Simon sighs, lifting the too-short cigarette to his lips.
Fuck it.
He lights another.
Back at home, two people wait: Jeremy and his new partner. Out of necessity, Simon is selling his car, and out of charity Jeremy and the man whose name Simon refuses to learn are buying it. While Simon's life has gone down the hole in the past three years, Jeremy's has improved. He took the accident as a sign that he should get a move on accomplishing his goals for life. Thus, he hunkered down and wrote a book. It became a bestseller. Simon has a signed, advance copy in his house. "With all my love."
Simon hasn't read beyond that.
The sale is not as brief as Simon would wish. Jeremy insists on catching up, unaware that his easy smiles and cheerful moods and strapping young buck of a partner are all akin to rubbing his success in Simon's face. When Simon mentions that the young man responsible for Jeremy's dual amputations is now working at the shop, Jeremy laughs. Simon is all too happy to wave goodbye Jeremy and the other man as they drive away in the Jaguar Simon had so painstakingly saved up for. Now he has to walk around the village if he wants to get anywhere.
Best birthday ever? Oh, yes, and Simon has a mind to drink the rest of it away. He opens the door to his house, intending to head straight for his stock of wine and spirits.
He winds up someplace entirely different.