The Light in the Hallway (ARC)

by Amanda Prowse

‘About what?’ Nick felt a flutter of worry at the man’s

  words, the word worry instantly causing worry. And what should he worry about? School? His mum?

  Jack Bairstow took a deep breath and rubbed the

  day-old stubble on his chin. ‘I guess what I’m trying to

  say is that just because Eric’s family are’ – he scratched

  his nose – ‘struggling a bit … because his mum has gone

  to Derby and all that, I don’t want you to worry about

  Mum and me or our family or what might happen to

  you and Jen.’

  ‘I don’t.’ He didn’t.

  ‘Good. Good.’ His dad smiled and pulled the duvet

  up to Nick’s shoulders before running his calloused palm

  over his son’s forehead. It was rare touch and it felt lovely.

  ‘You need to know your mum and I are solid, we are

  mates and that’s what you need to look for in the person

  you end up with. Above all else, you need to be mates.

  It’s important.’

  Nick nodded, wondering how on earth it would be

  possible to be mates with a girl, yuck!

  ‘And as I say, you don’t need to worry. I know Eric

  doesn’t have the easiest of times, and I think things must

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  be tough for him right now, but he’s lucky to have a good

  friend like you.’

  Nick pictured his friend in his cold house and missed

  him sleeping on the floor. He glanced down at the space

  where the bed-in-a-bag had lurked on and off during

  the summer.

  His dad rose and switched off the overhead light and

  gripped the door handle.

  ‘You’re going to fly this year; I can feel it.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘And you’ve had a good summer?’

  ‘The best, Dad.’

  The summer of absolutely brilliant…

  ‘You got to build your bike.’

  ‘I did – I went down Cobb Lane at about fifty miles

  an hour!’

  ‘Wow! That must have been scary.’

  ‘It was a bit.’ Nick shrugged. ‘Good, though!’

  ‘And you went in a Rolls Royce,’ his dad reminded

  him.

  ‘I did. Have you ever been in a Rolls Royce, Dad?’

  His dad gave a soft, mournful laugh. ‘No.’

  ‘Why don’t you ask Mr Siddley if he’ll take you out?’

  ‘Hmmm, I’m not sure. People who drive cars like

  Rolls Royces and own companies like Siddley’s … they

  are cut from a special cloth, not the likes of me.’

  This made Nick a little sad. He wanted his dad to be

  cut from the special cloth.

  ‘I’m lucky to have a boy like you, Nicky, lad. I’m

  proud of you.’

  His words danced like fireflies high above their heads,

  pinging against the ceiling and circling the room, filling

  the place with warmth and light.

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  ‘I think if I have a kid I want to be a dad just like you…’

  ‘To be honest, Nicky, you make it easy. You always

  seem to know how to do the right thing, not like some

  around here. I was talking to Kath Watson, a girl who’s

  just started working in the canteen, and she’s already got

  four kids. I’m trying not to judge but she’s saddled for

  life – that’s it! Her whole life, mapped out. I want more

  for you, son. I want you to aim high, work hard, get

  qualified and make sure you have the very best life you

  can, ’cos it’s the only one you’ve got.’

  ‘I will, Dad.’

  ‘And don’t forget that at the end of the day I’ve got

  your back. It’s you and me against the world, the Bairstow

  Boys!’

  Nick smiled and sank down into the pillow. He liked

  being one of the Bairstow Boys.

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  ‘Don’t worry about picking her up early tomorrow; you

  might have a hangover, and I love having this little dog-

  gie here!’ His mum kissed Treacle, who lay in her arms

  like a baby.

  ‘Thanks, but I doubt I’ll have a hangover; I’m a bit

  too past it for that kind of party. I’m out of practice.’

  ‘Not what I heard…’ His mum let this trail.

  ‘Oh, thanks for reminding me!’

  ‘Things seem a bit more settled, though, love, where

  Olly is concerned?’

  ‘I’d say so. I mean, it still feels like walking on egg-

  shells when he and Bev are in the same room, and I

  understand, but…’

  ‘But you need to live your life.’

  ‘I do, Mum.’

  ‘He’ll come round.’

  ‘Hope so. Anyway, tonight it’s only Eric and a hand-

  ful of us sharing a few beers and scoffing pie and chips

  after the pub. What’s the worst thing that could happen?’

  His mum sniffed up her tears as her sadness spilled.

  ‘I can’t believe that boy is going to the other side of the

  world! I am going to miss him.’

  Nick nodded and placed his hand on her arm. He

  hated to see her cry.

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  ‘Mind you’ – she sniffed – ‘it’ll save me a fortune. I’ve

  been feeding that lad since he was at junior school – he’s

  eaten me out of house and home. I’ve never seen an ap-

  petite like it, apart from our Jen.’ The two sighed. Eric

  and Jen, to them it seemed obvious.

  ‘See you tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes, love, see you then.’

  His mum closed the door and Nick thought about

  how much Eric would be missed. In truth, he had been

  so busy working on the business plan, pulling every-

  thing together, that his friend’s departure had not been

  at the very front of his mind. He had also concentrated

  on tonight’s gathering, unable to remember the last time

  the house had held a party, choosing not to linger on

  the reason why. It was almost unthinkable that his mate

  would no longer be within walking distance for the first

  time ever. Nick briefly considered calling up Will and

  asking if he fancied filling the friendship vacancy created

  by Eric. Again.

  He walked into the Blue Anchor and recalled the last

  time he had done so on pub quiz night, when nerves filled

  his gut and grief sat heavy on his shoulders. Tonight he

  felt different, lighter and looking forward to the future,

  whereas before he could only see a cold, dark loneliness

  looming ahead. This newfound optimism was, he knew,

  down to two things: Beverly, of course, who had relit

  flames of happiness inside him, flames that he thought

  were long extinguished, and the fact that as all the pieces

  of the jigsaw came together it was looking increasingly

  likely that he would, in the near future, sit in the big chair of a company very much like Siddley’s. Only it would

  be better, because Nick knew not to spend his days sat

  behind a desk, and that to get his hands dirty, doing any

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  and every job he expected someone else to do, was the way

  to get respect and to fully understand what was going on.

 
The price had been agreed on the stock and machinery,

  and with his house as a guarantee on the loan all they

  needed now was to find premises.

  ‘Mary!’ Eric yelled as Nick walked towards the table,

  drawing one or two looks from locals who were amused

  by the name. ‘What you having?’ Eric rose.

  ‘No, my shout.’ Nick worked his way around the

  table. ‘Alex?’

  ‘Pint, please, mate.’

  Ellie tutted as if her husband had inadvertently given

  the wrong answer. Nick caught Bev’s eye and they smiled

  knowingly at each other. Poor Alex…

  ‘Just a Coke for me.’ Ellie lifted her glass, as if doubt-

  ing Nick could get her order right without this example

  to follow.

  ‘Jen?’

  ‘Erm.’ He noted his sister’s body language, her hands

  clasped in her lap, shoulders dropped. She looked like

  she was trying to hide. Her voice too was quiet. ‘Glass

  of white wine would be lovely, thanks.’

  ‘I already know what Eric’s having.’ His mate had drunk

  cold bottled lager since they were teens. ‘And for you, Bev?’

  ‘I’m okay, thanks.’ She tapped her full glass of orange

  juice.

  ‘Cheap round! Marvellous!’ Nick clapped as the door

  opened and in walked Oliver with Tasha in tow; the table

  broke into a cheer.

  ‘Hey! You made it!’

  Nick had not expected him to come all this way, but

  to see him again was wonderful. He pulled his son into

  an embrace and held him fast.

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  ‘Good to see you, Olly. Welcome home, lad.’

  Eric jumped up from the table and took the boy into

  his arms. ‘Welcome home, son.’

  ‘I just wanted to come and say goodbye and good

  luck.’ Oliver sounded so confident, so grown-up, it made

  Nick’s heart swell.

  ‘I’ll miss you all.’ Eric swallowed. ‘But you’re all wel-

  come to come and visit any time you like. Just give me a

  bit of notice and I’ll get the barbie fired up!’

  As the bell rang for last orders, the troupe made

  their way along the street to Nick and Oliver’s house.

  Beverly slipped her hand through his arm and Nick

  immediately looked towards Oliver, noting with relief

  that he and Tasha were deep in conversation peppered

  with laughter.

  ‘When you’re the big boss’ – Alex slurred a little – ‘are

  you going to get a spanking big navy-blue Roller like the

  one old Siddley had? Do you remember that day?’

  ‘I bloody do!’ Eric shouted. ‘We were lost on the

  moors – got chased by a big puma and I nearly starved

  to death!’

  ‘Eric.’ Nick shook his head. ‘We didn’t actually see the

  puma and you didn’t nearly starve to death. It must have

  been only an hour between your last snack and your tea.’

  ‘Aye, but I were starving.’

  ‘You’re always starving,’ Jen joined in.

  ‘Well, hello, Kettle.’ Beverly laughed. ‘You, Jen, have

  the biggest appetite I’ve ever known!’

  ‘Yes, but she can eat what she likes; she keeps beau-

  tiful by running it off every day, chasing after all them

  baddies, don’t you, Jen?’ Eric spoke over their heads and

  Jen stopped walking.

  ‘You all right?’ Nick noted she looked a little pale.

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  Jen ignored him. ‘Do you really think I’m beautiful,

  Eric?’

  ‘I do.’ He smiled at her. ‘I always have.’

  Jen took a step forward and reached up to kiss Eric on

  the cheek. He grabbed her around the waist and without

  hesitation kissed her full on the mouth. Jen reached up

  and knotted her hands in his hair and there they stood,

  locked together before breaking apart, breathless and

  beaming. There was a moment of awkward silence while

  the rest of the group looked from one to the other, no

  one quite sure what the situation demanded. Luckily,

  Alex, who was more than slightly inebriated, was there

  to break the silence.

  ‘I never thought she was beautiful. I only thought she

  was bloody scary! I still do.’

  And even Ellie laughed.

  ‘It’s true!’ Alex yelled. ‘If it were a toss-up between

  having to encounter Jen or go alone to the Old Dairy Shed

  in the middle o’night, then I’d pick that old shed any day.

  We were drawn to that place like moths – we loved it.’

  Kerry’s words again came loud and clear to his head

  and Nick saw an image so clear, so obvious it left him

  feeling a little dizzy.

  Everything can prosper with a bit of love…

  ‘Oh my God! Alex, you beauty, that’s it! You’ve found

  the missing piece of the jigsaw!’

  ‘He has?’ Ellie snorted, back on form.

  ‘The Old Dairy Shed.’ Nick stared at Eric, who re-

  quired no further explanation.

  ‘Yes! Mate, yes! The Old Dairy Shed!’ Eric shouted,

  before releasing Jen and rushing over to lift his friend

  clean off the floor in a bear hug.

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  * * *

  It had hardly been a party, more a gathering in the lounge

  with all sitting on those darned cushions. Oliver and

  Tasha had long since retired for the night and Alex and

  Ellie had left.

  Nick managed to extricate himself from Eric’s grip

  after returning the protestations of love that came thick

  and fast from his mate’s drunken mouth. He tried to close

  the front door on Eric, who was walking Jen home; he

  waved to his sister, who loitered at the bottom of the path,

  calling, ‘Hurry up, you dweeb!’

  Nick fastened the bolt. ‘I’d say that was a very good

  night.’

  ‘It was.’ Beverly chewed her lip.

  ‘Are you okay? I noticed you were a bit quiet.’ Nick

  led her into the kitchen and sat her at the table before

  filling the kettle. Tea at this time of night was always a

  good idea. ‘If you’re worried about Olly, I would say that

  tonight was ground-breaking. He seemed happy, relaxed.

  I’m certainly happy, relaxed. And Alex’s idea is the best

  one! I can’t believe we didn’t think of it before, the Old

  Dairy Shed. It’s perfect! On the other side of town, plenty

  of space, been sitting empty for years, good access down

  Cobb Lane. I used to cycle down it, get up some good

  speeds with a tailwind and—’

  ‘Nick,’ she interrupted, speaking softly. She knitted

  her hands on the tabletop. ‘Come and sit down.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m gabbling, I know, just excited.’ He bunched

  his shoulders and grinned at her. His smile, however,

  faded when he saw her expression.

  ‘Nick.’

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  The way she said his name while sitting in such close

  proximity told him this was a conversation that carried

  the weight of formality. It reminded him of the chat he

  had had with the doctor
at St Vincent’s.

  So how long are we talking?

  Days, weeks at most…

  Spend time here, Nick, bring Oliver, say goodbye…

  Nick swallowed the nerves that gathered in his throat.

  He wondered what he had done wrong, figuring that her

  upright posture and tone were the scaffolding to enable

  her to end whatever this thing was between them. This

  ‘connection’. A wishy-washy term really, and nowhere

  near as robust as boyfriend and girlfriend, partners, a

  couple. He minded more than he thought he would. It

  wasn’t only the prospect of not seeing her anymore, but

  also the shock; he had thought they were going places.

  He liked the time he spent with her, looked forward to

  their budget nights in around the telly or on the sofa with

  a bottle of cheap plonk and a big bag of crisps to share.

  He would miss the distraction of her in his mundane

  life, miss the chat that nearly always ended in laughter,

  and he would miss the sex, a whole new adventure and

  one that had been off limits to him for so very long. He

  would miss lots of things. This was not how he had seen

  this fabulous evening ending.

  ‘Nick,’ she repeated, and he swallowed, sitting back

  against the chair and waiting for the words that he didn’t

  want to hear, but he was clearly not in the driving seat.

  This was her call.

  ‘This is not easy for me and so I need you to…’ She

  paused, seemingly the words as hard for her to say as they

  were for him to hear. ‘I need you to bear with me and

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  not rush me and listen and then we can talk and think

  about what comes next, okay?’ She licked her lips.

  ‘Okay.’ He nodded, but in truth he thought it was a lot

  simpler than that. She would feed him something along

  the lines of, It’s not you; it’s me … You’re not ready … I’m not ready … The timing is wrong … We can still be mates …

  It’s been fun … and then he would hold her awkwardly, counting down the embarrassed seconds until he could

  usher her from the front door and come back to this very

  spot, where he would sink down and feel sorry for himself.

  He realised in that second that he would miss her more

  than he thought, a lot more.

  ‘Okay.’ She nodded her agreement and gave a small

  smile of relief, seemingly delighted they had the semblance

  of a plan. ‘I like you.’

  ‘I like you too,’ he levelled.

  ‘It’s been a wonderful time for me, but I still don’t