went with them, and when they stopped asking me, I wondered if I should end the misery by leaving college completely and getting a real job.
One evening, after my last lecture, I was walking away from the classroom when the lecturer followed me. He had been discussing the relationship between the ecclesiastical art of the church and its effect on the 18 th and 19 th century home, and had been utterly boring. I felt weary. Perhaps it’s me, I thought. Maybe everyone else understands it. I think I’ve reached the point where I couldn’t care less.
“Have you got a minute,” he asked catching up with me. “My room’s just down here on the left.”
I sighed. Oh, here it comes. This is where he tells me how much I’m wasting everyone else’s time, as well as mine, I thought. He held the door open for me and showed me to a seat on the opposite side of the desk from his. He smiled.
“Smoke?” An old fashioned silver and pearl cigarette box sat on the desk and he lifted up its lid and offered me one of the contents. I shook my head.
“No? Well perhaps something else? How about a joint?”
I almost laughed, surprised at his openness. “No, thank you,” I said. “I don’t.”
“Wise girl. A habit best not to start. Unfortunately, no-one ever told me. Now, well, I know things have been a bit tough lately.” He lit a cigarette, settled back in his seat and inhaled deeply. “I’ve noticed that you seem to be shouldering the whole weight of what’s happened to your house mate, on your own. I know he isn’t your boyfriend, by the way. You are very young to have this burden to carry, you know. The college has a whole support network geared up, waiting for just such an opportunity as this. So you are not alone.”
Yeah, I thought cynically. So far, it felt as if we were invisible. This was the first time anyone from the teaching staff had approached me, even to offer any sympathy.
“Aidan’s father has written to the Principal. He wants him home, to be cared for in Ireland,” he continued.
“He won’t go!”
“So you carry on, caring for him here?”
“Looks like it.”
He closed his eyes and rubbed his temple where his greying hair was starting to recede. Then he took another deep drag. “I can’t force you to accept help, although seeing you in my class today, it concerns me that you might need it. I am always here, and if you, or Aidan for that matter don’t want to formerly approach the college for help, you can always come to me. I’ll just be a shoulder to cry on, if that’s all that’s needed.” He nodded earnestly at me and then smiled.
Money’s what’s needed, I thought, but tried to smile back at him. It was the first time I had been able to have an objective conversation with a sensible adult since Jurgen’s departure and I desperately wanted to talk to someone, but I felt too down-cast to say much. Also, I was frightened to describe Aidan’s experience, in case I was talking to the “wrong” person. My world felt closed in on itself.
“What about your family,” he continued, running his fingers over the desk edge. “How do they feel about what’s happened? Are they happy for you to stay where you are?”
“They don’t know about it. I’m trying to keep it from them. I’m sure my dad would be upset and insist I went home. I can’t leave Aidan to cope alone. It wasn’t his fault, what happened.”
“It’s commendable what you are trying to do, but it isn’t your responsibility, you know.”
If you only knew, I thought, just how responsible I am.
Later, when I got home Aidan seemed especially touchy. Quite early in the evening he picked up his head phones and went to bed, leaving me alone. I sat on the sofa, feeling glum and tried to think rationally about the money we needed. He wouldn’t entertain the idea of another lodger so I knew that if we were to continue, I would have to get a part time job. Bar work seemed the only viable option, but I was terrified
One evening, after my last lecture, I was walking away from the classroom when the lecturer followed me. He had been discussing the relationship between the ecclesiastical art of the church and its effect on the 18 th and 19 th century home, and had been utterly boring. I felt weary. Perhaps it’s me, I thought. Maybe everyone else understands it. I think I’ve reached the point where I couldn’t care less.
“Have you got a minute,” he asked catching up with me. “My room’s just down here on the left.”
I sighed. Oh, here it comes. This is where he tells me how much I’m wasting everyone else’s time, as well as mine, I thought. He held the door open for me and showed me to a seat on the opposite side of the desk from his. He smiled.
“Smoke?” An old fashioned silver and pearl cigarette box sat on the desk and he lifted up its lid and offered me one of the contents. I shook my head.
“No? Well perhaps something else? How about a joint?”
I almost laughed, surprised at his openness. “No, thank you,” I said. “I don’t.”
“Wise girl. A habit best not to start. Unfortunately, no-one ever told me. Now, well, I know things have been a bit tough lately.” He lit a cigarette, settled back in his seat and inhaled deeply. “I’ve noticed that you seem to be shouldering the whole weight of what’s happened to your house mate, on your own. I know he isn’t your boyfriend, by the way. You are very young to have this burden to carry, you know. The college has a whole support network geared up, waiting for just such an opportunity as this. So you are not alone.”
Yeah, I thought cynically. So far, it felt as if we were invisible. This was the first time anyone from the teaching staff had approached me, even to offer any sympathy.
“Aidan’s father has written to the Principal. He wants him home, to be cared for in Ireland,” he continued.
“He won’t go!”
“So you carry on, caring for him here?”
“Looks like it.”
He closed his eyes and rubbed his temple where his greying hair was starting to recede. Then he took another deep drag. “I can’t force you to accept help, although seeing you in my class today, it concerns me that you might need it. I am always here, and if you, or Aidan for that matter don’t want to formerly approach the college for help, you can always come to me. I’ll just be a shoulder to cry on, if that’s all that’s needed.” He nodded earnestly at me and then smiled.
Money’s what’s needed, I thought, but tried to smile back at him. It was the first time I had been able to have an objective conversation with a sensible adult since Jurgen’s departure and I desperately wanted to talk to someone, but I felt too down-cast to say much. Also, I was frightened to describe Aidan’s experience, in case I was talking to the “wrong” person. My world felt closed in on itself.
“What about your family,” he continued, running his fingers over the desk edge. “How do they feel about what’s happened? Are they happy for you to stay where you are?”
“They don’t know about it. I’m trying to keep it from them. I’m sure my dad would be upset and insist I went home. I can’t leave Aidan to cope alone. It wasn’t his fault, what happened.”
“It’s commendable what you are trying to do, but it isn’t your responsibility, you know.”
If you only knew, I thought, just how responsible I am.
Later, when I got home Aidan seemed especially touchy. Quite early in the evening he picked up his head phones and went to bed, leaving me alone. I sat on the sofa, feeling glum and tried to think rationally about the money we needed. He wouldn’t entertain the idea of another lodger so I knew that if we were to continue, I would have to get a part time job. Bar work seemed the only viable option, but I was terrified
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