Jeremiah, sitting alone on his bed in his crummy flat, replayed tonight’s disaster.
He realised, finally, after all these years, that those people he’d hung with, shared with, loaned money to, were Never His friends.
They were Kat’s friends.
They were Kat’s friends and only acted as if they were his friends so as to pull words from his mouth they could toss in Court.
It seemed a paranoid delusion, but the more he thought of it, the realer it became.
His life was unravelling, his mind bouncing around the room. Could it be that the marriage, the years after, were just a trick by Katherine to get her name on the house title? To get him to buy her a car? Then to divorce him and …?
How could Kat deceive him?
She was so stupid, so open and easily tricked; how could she fool him? How could all those guys he spent over five years with, turn against him?
Jeremiah fell back on the bed, assuming he was drunk out of his mind. The rags of truth which had almost surfaced were suppressed, and he passed into sleep.