Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine

‘Eleanor, darling. Not our usual time to talk, I know, but I was thinking about you. Just wanted to say hello, see how you were getting on, you know the sort of thing.’

I was silent, shocked by the unscheduled intrusion into my evening.

‘Well?’ she said. ‘I’m waiting, darling …’

I cleared my throat.

‘I, er … I’m fine, Mummy. You were – thinking about me?’ This was a first.

‘Mmm. Two things really: first of all, do you want me to see if I can give you a hand with your project? I can’t do much from where I am, obviously, but I might be able to, I don’t know, pull some strings? Might there perhaps be some way I could engineer a little visit, come and help you? I mean, I know it sounds impossible, but one never knows … mountains can always be moved and so on—’

‘No, Mummy, oh no no no …’ I said, gabbling. I heard her breathe in, and forced my words into order. ‘What I mean, Mummy’ – I heard the hiss as she released the air trapped in her lungs – ‘is that it’s very kind of you to offer, but I think I’m going to decline.’

‘Might one ask why?’ she said, sounding somewhat put out.

‘It’s just … I really do think I’ve got everything under control here,’ I said. ‘I think it’d be better if you … stayed put, as it were. I’m not sure there’s anything more you can do at this point.’

‘Well, darling … if you’re sure. But I’m very efficient, you know? And, to be frank, you’re a bit of a bumbling idiot at times.’

I sighed, as quietly as I could.

‘And furthermore,’ she went on, ‘I’m getting rather impatient now. Things need to move forward with this man, you know? A bit more action, Eleanor – that’s what’s needed, darling.’ She was starting to sound calmer now.

‘Yes, Mummy. Yes, you’re absolutely right of course.’ It was true that, since the time when I’d first seen the musician, my interest and therefore my progress had been subsumed by more pressing matters over the last few weeks. There were so many other things to be getting on with – Raymond, the new job, Sammy and his family … But she was right.

‘I’ll try to move things along a bit faster,’ I said. That had placated her, I hoped, and she started to say her goodbyes.

‘Oh wait, Mummy – hang on a second. You said there were two things – what was the second thing you were thinking about?’

‘Oh yes,’ she said, and I heard her dismissive sideways hiss of cigarette smoke. ‘It was just that I wanted to tell you that you’re a pointless waste of human tissue. That was all. Bye then, darling!’ she said, bright as a knife.

Silence.

@johnnieLrocks

Newsflash! Am leaving Pilgrim Pioneers. No hard feelings TOTALLY respect those guys #soloartist #astarisborn (1/2)

@johnnieLrocks

I’m going solo in a different, stronger musical direction. More soon. Peace out #iconoclast (2/2)

22

MUMMY GOT IN TOUCH again on Wednesday as usual, the interval between our conversations all too brief.

‘What ho!’ she said. ‘Me again! Anything new to share with Mummy?’

In the absence of any other salient news since Monday, I told her about Keith’s birthday party.

‘Quite the social butterfly these days, aren’t you, Eleanor?’ she said, her voice unpleasantly sweet.

I said nothing; it’s usually the safest course of action.

‘What did you wear? I bet you looked ridiculous. For the love of God, please tell me you didn’t attempt to dance, daughter mine.’ She somehow intuited the answer from my tense silence.

‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘Dancing’s for the beautiful people, Eleanor. The thought of you, lumbering about like a walrus …’ She laughed long and hard. ‘Oh, thank you, thanks very much, darling. That’s made my night, it really has.’ She laughed again. ‘Eleanor, dancing!’

‘How are you, Mummy?’ I said quietly.

‘Fine, darling, just fine. It’s chilli night tonight, always a treat. We’re going to watch a film later. The wonder of Wednesdays!’ Her tone was breezy, cheerful – it had a borderline manic quality that I recognized.

‘I got promoted, Mummy,’ I said, unable to keep a little flash of pride from my voice. She snorted.

‘Promoted! How incredibly impressive, darling. What does that mean – an extra five pounds a month?’

I said nothing.

‘Still,’ she said, her voice dripping with patronizing sweetness, ‘good for you, darling. I mean it, really; well done.’ I looked at the floor, felt tears come.

She spoke to someone else, a semi-snarl; ‘Naw, ah fucking didnae! Ah said Sex and the City 2! Aye, I did! I thought we were taking a vote. Eh? Again? Oh, for fuck’s …’ She spoke directly to me again.

‘My fellow residents have elected to watch The Shawshank Redemption yet again, if you can believe it; it’s only been, oooh, twenty consecutive Wednesdays now …