Stand by Me

by S. D. Robertson

  ‘Want one?’ he asked, having steadied himself. ‘They taste okay once you get used to them.’

  ‘No, thanks. It wouldn’t exactly help my running.’

  ‘That hasn’t stopped Jake Prentice,’ Elliot said. ‘He’s King George’s new star athlete. The head was raving about his talent in assembly, but I saw him puffing away a few minutes ago. Have you met him? He’s very good-looking.’

  Lisa didn’t answer. She was already aware that Jake smoked; now she knew he was here, which was good news. But first Elliot needed her. She hadn’t said anything to him so far about Jake. She hadn’t even mentioned that they knew each other. It wasn’t that she was hiding it from him. It was all part of her playing it cool strategy. She hadn’t even told her girlfriends yet. Well, apart from Hayley, who’d dragged it out of her when they were getting ready earlier.

  Mind you, she and Elliot didn’t discuss each other’s relationships a great deal these days. It was something they’d both steered away from after their fallout last year involving her ex, Sean Ferguson. Not that they avoided the subject altogether. As friends, that would be impossible, but they didn’t tend to dwell on it or go into great detail.

  Elliot hadn’t given any indication that his relationship with Claire wasn’t working out. They’d been together for ages. Lisa had even met her a few times, although she hadn’t found her particularly friendly. All the same, she’d been glad to see her friend happy, which clearly was no longer the case.

  ‘Budge up,’ Lisa said. ‘If you’re not coming down, I’m coming up.’

  Soon she was perched next to Elliot on the branch, one arm strategically placed behind him, to hopefully prevent any accidents, and the other gripping the thick trunk.

  Elliot offered her a swig of his beer, which she declined. ‘You seem very sober,’ he said.

  ‘I’m on antibiotics, remember.’

  ‘Oh yeah. Are you feeling better?’

  ‘I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about, El.’ She paused before adding: ‘I was talking to Neil. He, um, told me what happened with Claire. I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘Not really. I think I’d rather drink and smoke some more, although … I actually feel a bit—’

  Elliot bent forward, dropping his beer and vomiting all over the grass below. He narrowly missed one of the couples, who’d taken a break from snogging to walk hand in hand back to the house.

  ‘Sorry,’ Elliot mumbled.

  The girl, a pretty blonde Lisa recognised from the year below at Queen Anne’s but couldn’t name, turned around and looked up at them, frowning. ‘Yuck! That’s gross and it almost landed on us. Can’t you puke in a bush like a normal person?’

  When the boy walking with her turned around too, Lisa’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Jake,’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Hi, Lisa,’ he replied, the calmness of his voice doing nothing to douse the flames of fury raging through her mind. ‘What are you doing up there with Turner?’

  Lisa, who would never get used to the way so many of the boys called each other by their surnames, forced herself to smile. ‘We’re just having some fun.’

  It was a comment designed to give Jake the wrong idea: a desperate attempt at retaliation.

  Jake smirked. ‘Looks like he’s had enough.’ Blondie stood on her tiptoes to whisper something into his ear. Then they continued towards the house.

  ‘So you do know him, then,’ Elliot said.

  The last thing Lisa wanted now, feeling sorry for herself and stupid, was to tell Elliot the full story. She was racking her brains trying to work out what had happened. Had she played it too cool, not giving enough signals that she was interested? Was it because she hadn’t called Jake yesterday? He’d seemed so keen for her to come to the party, and yet he hadn’t looked remotely guilty at being ‘caught’ with another girl. Dammit.

  Realising that Elliot was staring at her expectantly, waiting for an answer, she replied: ‘Yeah, I’ve spoken to him a few times at athletics. Are you friends?’

  ‘We have a few classes together. He’s okay; a bit full of himself. Who was the girl?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘She doesn’t go to Queen Anne’s?’

  ‘She does, but I don’t know her name. She’s in the year below. You’re very chatty all of a sudden. Feeling better?’

  ‘Yes.’ He paused to hiccup. ‘Although I’m still totally depressed about Claire. Bitch.’

  She offered him a chewing gum, which he accepted. ‘Are you going to tell me what happened?’

  ‘She found someone better: a guy from her own school. She’s been seeing him for a couple of weeks.’

  ‘Someone else,’ Lisa said, giving her friend a gentle hug, careful to keep them both steady on the tree branch. ‘But definitely not someone better. It’s her loss, El. If she doesn’t realise how great you are, you’re better off without her.’

  Elliot sniffed, hiccupping again and wiping away a tear. ‘Thanks. Doesn’t feel like that, though.’

  ‘What do you say we continue this conversation on the ground?’ Lisa wasn’t exactly comfortable perched in the tree, fearful that a sudden boozy move could send them both tumbling.

  ‘Why? It’s like old times. How long is it since we’ve climbed a tree together?’

  ‘A while. I still remember the first time. It ended with me racing that idiot across the field to get your clothes and shoes back.’

  Elliot half-laughed, half-hiccupped. ‘Now here you are again, helping me. I’m like the damsel in distress in this relationship, aren’t I? And you’re the knight in shining armour, always saving me.’

  Lisa shook her head. ‘What are you on about, El? Come down with me and I’ll show you a great way to get rid of those hiccups.’

  ‘I will. But let me say one thing first.’

  ‘Go on then.’

  Raising his right forefinger dramatically, he said: ‘One day – mark my words – I will be the one to save you, Lisa Benson. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but—’

  ‘Come on with you, Humphrey Bogart. Let’s get down.’

  Lisa went first, making it to the grass in a few nimble moves. Elliot, in his inebriated state, slipped and fell the last bit, ending up flat on his back at the foot of the tree trunk.

  Lisa knelt at his side, surprised to see that his eyes were closed. Even though common sense told her it wasn’t high enough to do any damage, she felt her heart race. ‘Elliot? Are you okay?’

  Her face was right in front of his when his eyelids popped open and, before she knew what was happening, he raised his head off the ground and kissed her full on the lips.

  Time froze for an instant as their eyes met and the kiss lingered.

  Then Lisa came to her senses. ‘Eww, you just puked,’ she said, pulling away. ‘And you’ve been smoking.’

  ‘That’s why I didn’t open my mouth,’ Elliot slurred, wearing an inane grin. ‘I even held my breath.’

  Lisa wanted to tell him that it still didn’t taste nice – and to query what he was thinking, kissing her in the first place – but she didn’t have the heart.

  ‘Come on. Let’s go in the house and get you some water. You need sobering up.’

  She got to her feet and, turning away, subtly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  There was a loud noise from the front of the house, like an engine revving. It continued for several seconds, only to be replaced by a brief screeching, then a crash and the unmistakeable sound of shattering glass. Lots of it.

  ‘What on earth was that?’ a boy nearby said. But before anyone could answer, there was more revving and screeching, followed by what sounded like a car racing full throttle into the distance.

  ‘Get out!’ a high-pitched voice yelled from inside the house. ‘All of you – get the hell out!’

  Lisa looked at Elliot, who was back on his feet, and bit the side of her lip. ‘That doesn’t sound good.’

  His eyes were stretched like CDs, trained on som
ething happening behind her.

  She turned back towards the house and gasped. Aidan was standing in the back doorway, his mouth twisted into something halfway between a manic grin and a snarl. He was brandishing a cricket bat.

  He scanned the gawping crowd for a long moment. Then came that high-pitched voice again, raw and animalistic. ‘I. Said. Get. Out. Everyone. Now!’

  No one moved. They were all in shock, Lisa guessed, trying to process what was going on.

  Aidan let out a guttural war cry and, swinging the bat wildly from side to side, ran into the middle of the lawn. Suddenly everyone was pouring back into the house and following the hallway out through the front door.

  Lisa grabbed Elliot’s hand, pulling him along with the rest of them. She remembered hearing about the group of high school lads turning up earlier, guessing that this had to be significant.

  As they exited the front door, Lisa had to blink to confirm that what she was seeing was real. The greenhouse near the driveway had been smashed to pieces. It had been demolished, razed to the ground. All that remained was a heap of glass shards, broken wood from the framework, smashed terracotta pots and various squashed plants. Bizarrely, there was also a colourful selection of women’s clothes – everything from party dresses to petticoats – piled on top of a bush at the very front of the house.

  ‘What?’ Elliot said, looking from one unbelievable sight to the other, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes.

  ‘I have absolutely no idea.’

  The clothing, presumably belonging to Aidan’s poor mother, must have been thrown out of an upstairs bedroom directly above the bush. For although the large sash window was now closed, a bright yellow skirt and pink bra remained trapped in it, flapping against the brickwork in the breeze.

  Lisa spotted Jake and Blondie among those still mingling, bemused in the front garden. Dragging Elliot with her, and careful not to step into any debris from the greenhouse, she approached them. ‘What happened?’

  Jake shrugged. ‘These pissed-up lads from the high school arrived and got into a row with Aidan and some of the others. They had history, apparently. A couple of them got inside and went upstairs, ransacking his parents’ bedroom; throwing all that stuff outside. Then some older lads arrived in a blue Volvo and rammed the greenhouse before they all made off. It’s mental.’

  Lisa didn’t know what to say. How had she and Elliot missed all of this?

  Blondie was tugging on Jake’s hand, saying they needed to leave before the police arrived.

  ‘Has someone called them?’ Lisa asked.

  ‘Aidan said he had,’ Jake replied. ‘That was what finally got them to leave. Well, him swinging that cricket bat around like a lunatic probably had something to do with it too. They’ll never get away with it. Not with all these witnesses.’

  ‘I wouldn’t want to be Aidan when his parents get home,’ Elliot added.

  As Jake and most of the others disappeared down the driveway into the street, Lisa convinced El to help her pick up the clothes. It felt like the right thing to do.

  Gingerly, they carried them inside. They found Aidan sitting on the bottom of the stairs, head in hands and the cricket bat at his feet. He appeared to be the only one left in the house.

  Lisa cleared her throat, causing him to look up. ‘Should we take this stuff upstairs?’

  The fire had gone out of his eyes, which were red with tears. ‘Thanks,’ he rasped. ‘Leave them there, please.’

  ‘Can we help with anything else?’ Elliot asked.

  ‘No. I want to be alone.’

  Lisa nodded at the bat. ‘You might want to put that away before the police get here.’

  ‘I didn’t really call them. I’m in enough trouble already.’

  As the pair turned out of the driveway on to the street, discussing how best to catch up with the friends they were each staying with, Elliot slipped his arm around Lisa’s waist. ‘Thanks for earlier. Sorry about, um, you know—’

  ‘It’s fine. Are you feeling less drunk?’

  ‘I think so. My hiccups have gone.’

  ‘A bit less sad about—’

  He raised a hand. ‘Don’t say her name.’

  ‘Fine, I won’t. At least you’re not Aidan, though.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘God, what a nightmare. How long do you think he’ll be grounded for?’

  ‘At least a few years, I reckon. Plenty of time to practise his batting skills in the garden.’ He laughed in that seal-like way of his.

  Lisa giggled. ‘You’re evil.’

  CHAPTER 34

  NOW

  Wednesday, 25 July 2018

  Elliot arrived at The Swan in the nick of time. Well, a moment too late really, but soon enough to stop things getting badly out of hand.

  Walking through the door, he was greeted with the sight of Mike taking on a couple of men at the bar. Fists were already flying – although not necessarily landing where intended – while an elderly staff member looked on open-mouthed, apparently clueless how to deal with the fracas.

  The fight appeared to have just started, based on the fact that a staggering Mike was still standing, despite being outnumbered by younger, fitter guys who clearly hadn’t drunk as much as him. He was a bulky guy, but Elliot didn’t fancy his chances in this particular bout.

  There was only one thing for it.

  ‘Oi!’ he shouted, loudly enough to get the attention of all present, upon which he waved a hand in their direction and commanded: ‘Stop fighting right now, all of you. Mike, sit down. You other two: get your stuff and leave straight away. Don’t come back.’

  They did as he asked, of course, while the old guy shuffled towards the bar, shaking his head but saying nothing.

  Once the two young men had gone, Elliot picked up a bar stool that had been knocked over in the scuffle. He took a seat next to Mike. ‘So are you going to tell me what’s going on?’

  Mike reached for his pint, which had somehow survived the fight unscathed, with a shaky hand. He took a long swig.

  Elliot realised the pub probably wasn’t the best place to talk if he wanted to get any sense out of him. ‘I think you might have had enough, mate.’ This drew a scowl from Mike. ‘Hey, I’m not judging you,’ he added. ‘We’ve all done it, but you nearly got your head kicked in then.’

  ‘I could have taken those two idiots.’

  ‘Maybe. Maybe not. Why the hell were you fighting them at all?’

  ‘They were asking for it. Winding me up. How did you get them to leave? That was weird. You walked in and —’

  Elliot shrugged. ‘I guess I have a look of authority about me.’

  A thickset man with an easy confidence that marked him out as the landlord appeared from a backroom behind the bar. ‘Right, I’m done in the cellar,’ he told his elderly employee, who was still shaking his head, looking dazed. ‘What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

  ‘Come on, let’s get out of here,’ Elliot said under his breath, not wanting to be around when the pub boss found out what had unfolded in his absence.

  He took the lead, glad to see no sign of Mike’s new ‘friends’ outside.

  ‘Why are you heading that way?’ Mike asked, coming to a standstill as Elliot set off in the opposite direction to home. ‘Aren’t we going back to the house?’

  ‘I told you, we’re going for a walk.’ His hand twitched, ready to assist if necessary, but he held back, preferring not to force the issue. He hoped that in his inebriated state Mike would be compliant, particularly in light of just being rescued.

  Elliot pressed on along the pavement and, sure enough, Mike followed. ‘Wait up,’ he said. ‘I thought you meant the walk home.’

  ‘No, better you steer clear for a bit.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘Lisa’s not best pleased about you going AWOL. If you turn up in that state, you’ll get yourself into more trouble.’

  ‘She’s not the boss of me,’ he declared, nearly tripping over
his own feet. Hiccupping, he added: ‘And what exactly happened between the two of you today? You better not have tried anything, or—’

  Elliot steadied him. ‘Easy, tiger. Of course I didn’t try anything. That’s not why I’m here. Lisa is your wife and the last thing I’d ever want would be to come between you. She’s just dealing with a couple of things at home, that’s all.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I’ll fill you in as we walk,’ Elliot said, changing the subject to buy himself some time. ‘I hear you had some problems with your laptop.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Ben mentioned it when Lisa and I got back from visiting our old schools. He asked me to have a look.’

  ‘It’s ruined, right?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. I managed to get it working again.’

  Mike’s eyes lit up. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Seriously.’

  ‘But I didn’t save—’

  ‘The document you were working on?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘It didn’t happen to be a plot synopsis for a screenplay, just shy of two thousand words, did it?’

  ‘Yes! Was it still there?’

  ‘It had auto-saved, lucky for you. I saved it properly and backed up a copy.’ Elliot handed him a USB stick.

  Mike gawped at him before taking it. ‘There’s a copy on here?’

  ‘Yes. I hope you don’t mind, but I read a little. It sounded very interesting.’

  Mike patted him on the back, thanking him repeatedly and beaming as only a happy drunk can. He was doing a decent job of keeping up with Elliot now, following him without hesitation as he turned from one street to another. ‘So you liked it?’

  ‘I did, Mike. Is that what you want to do: write screenplays?’

  ‘I’d love to. I’ve always been interested in it, but … I don’t know, it’s a pipe dream, isn’t it? Where are we going, by the way?’

  ‘You’ll see. Why’s it a pipe dream? Every first-time writer has to start somewhere. A wise man once told me that you can achieve anything if you want it badly enough; the main obstacle is yourself. He was the one who convinced me to follow my dream of starting my own tech firm. He’s a very persuasive man, Ian, my stepdad.’