by Mike Gayle
‘Dad?’
‘Yes, son?’
There was a silence. Luke tried to frame the words.
‘Son? Did you want to ask something?’
Luke shook his head. He decided to go with a bit of subterfuge to cover his tracks. ‘I’m going to go out in a bit, do you want anything?’
‘No, son.’
‘Right then, I’ll scarf this lot down and see you later, OK?’
Dad nodded. He was about to close the door behind him when he stopped.
‘Luke? Don’t you think it’s time we talked about what’s happening with you and Cassie?’
Luke let out a huge sigh of relief. ‘Do you know what, Dad? I think you’re absolutely right.’
Deciding that a change of venue was in order Luke suggested they go to a nearby pub but his father being his father offered a counter-suggestion: ‘Why don’t we go to Adam’s bar? At least that way we’d be keeping the money in the family.’
Luke agreed and so half an hour later they entered BlueBar, found themselves a seat amongst the small scattering of weekend couples reading the papers and tucking into BlueBar’s famous all-day English breakfast and got themselves a drink.
‘Don’t you think it’s funny that Adam owns all this?’ asked Dad as he took a sip of his half-pint of Guinness.
‘I suppose so,’ replied Luke. ‘When was the last time you were here?’
‘I think it was for Russell’s thirtieth which has got to be a good couple of years ago. How old is Russell now? I always forget!’
‘I have no idea. Thirty-two? Thirty-three? It’s easy to lose count after a while.’
The two men fell into what Luke assumed was a comfortable silence until he looked over at his father’s face to see that he seemed to be struggling with something.
‘Are you OK, Dad?’
‘I was just thinking about your . . . you know . . . situation and well . . . you do know that you can’t just let Cassie walk away like this, don’t you?’
‘There’s nothing I can do, Dad. She wants kids and I don’t: there just isn’t any room for compromise.’
‘But that’s not quite true, is it?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I mean it’s not quite true that you don’t want any more children. I know you, Luke, there’s nothing more in the world that you’d like than to start a family with Cassie.’
‘You don’t seem to be getting what I’m trying to say, Dad. I can’t move on without Megan in my life. I can’t do it.’
‘Then you’ve got to get Megan back in your life.’
‘Don’t you think I’ve thought of that?’
‘I don’t know, have you?’
‘Of course I have but . . . but . . . it’s just too complicated . . . too much time has gone by.’
Dad shook his head. ‘Luke, just listen to me. I know you’re scared. I know that deciding not to see Megan was the hardest decision you ever made. And I know that you’re terrified of what she might think of you after such a long time. After all you’ve been through this is the last thing you want to do. But take it from someone who knows: sooner or later the past always catches up with you so you might as well deal with the consequences of your actions now rather than later, because you know what? If you do leave it until later with a girl as lovely as your Cassie there’s a strong chance she won’t be about for too long.’
‘I wouldn’t have called it a “ban” exactly so much as a veto . . .’
Russell was reaching for Angie’s hand as they crossed the main road on their way back from a night out with Angie’s friends. The evening had been a lot more successful than Russell had expected and he had been surprised to have so much in common with Angie’s friends’ boyfriends considering that at least two of them were accountants.
As Angie’s fingers intertwined with his own Russell wondered if this might be the right time to tell her about bumping into Cassie the other day. It didn’t feel right not telling her, especially as it had been a completely innocent conversation. Yet he was fearful about her response given the feelings that he’d once had for Cassie.
‘So what do you fancy doing at the weekend?’ asked Angie, oblivious of Russell’s inner turmoil. ‘Kate is apparently throwing some kind of surprise party to celebrate Jim’s new job and has asked if we can go but we don’t have to if you don’t want to.’
Russell didn’t reply.
‘Look, Russ,’ continued Angie. ‘There’s no need to get all funny about it. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.’
He came to his senses. ‘What do you mean, funny? I’m sorry, babe, I was a million miles away. I’ve no idea what you’re on about.’
She stopped and looked up at him. ‘What’s wrong with you? I feel like you’ve been somewhere else all night.’
‘It’s nothing really,’ began Russell. ‘It’s just that . . . well, it’s sort of weird but I heard today that Luke and Cassie have split up.’
‘They’ve split up? How? Why? I don’t understand. Didn’t they only just get engaged?’
Russell nodded. ‘It’s all to do with kids apparently. You know how I haven’t seen my niece in years all because of Luke’s bitch of an ex-wife? Well it turns out that because of all that Luke told Cassie he never wants to have kids.’
‘And Cassie does?’
He nodded. ‘Apparently it all came to a head when they got engaged and he wouldn’t budge and she wouldn’t budge and so it’s over.’
‘That’s so horrible,’ she said, putting her arms around him. ‘How’s Luke taking it?’
‘It wasn’t Luke who told me. It was Cassie.’
The expression on Angie’s face changed in an instant. Gone was the look of sympathy and concern and in its place was one of hurt and outrage.
‘You saw Cassie?’
Russell nodded.
‘So this isn’t about you being upset because of your brother, it’s you feeling guilty about seeing Cassie?’
‘Look, it’s not what you think,’ said Russell. ‘I was in town and I bumped into her, OK? I didn’t know that anything was wrong between her and Luke and we were chatting and then she just came out with it and started to get upset so I took her for a drink.’
‘You took her for a drink?’
‘Yeah, honestly it was nothing flash. Just a quick drink and a chat. She was upset, that’s all, and I was just trying to—’
‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Don’t you dare tell me that you were only trying to comfort her!’
‘Don’t say it like that, Ange. Don’t say it like I’ve done a bad thing here. I’ve not tried to keep it a secret so why are you having a go at me?’
‘Could that be because you were in love with her for about a billion years and spent all day every day fantasising about her?’ Angie jammed her hands deep into her coat pockets. ‘I bet you loved it, didn’t you? Sitting listening to her pouring out all her woes like you were the closest thing that she has in the world to a friend. I bet you lapped it up.’
‘Look, it wasn’t like that,’ pleaded Russell. ‘I was just being a mate, that’s all.’
‘And I’m supposed to feel better because you’ve said that?’ snorted Angie. ‘We used to be just mates, Russ, and look where we are now.’ Pushing him away from her with her fists Angie walked off leaving Russell standing motionless in the same spot. When she was about twenty or so yards distant she called out: ‘You must think I’m really stupid if you thought that I wouldn’t be bothered by this, Russ. And I’m not. I’m not stupid and I’m not going to stand for it, OK? I’m not!’
The following morning Russell awoke from a cold and uncomfortable night on the sofa to find Angie kneeling next to him with her laptop underneath her arm. She was still in her dressing gown and her morning breath smelled distinctly of fresh cigarettes, which was an old habit that she only ever relapsed into during times of extreme stress.
Setting down the laptop Angie kissed him gently on the forehead. ‘How did you sleep?’
‘Badly.’
‘If it’s any consolation I had a terrible night too.’
‘At least you were comfortable. I’d have been better off sleeping on razor blades than this stupid bloody sofa.’
‘Look, Russ, I’m sorry. I know I overreacted. It was my fault. I know you were just trying to do what’s right and I’m sorry if you feel I’ve let you down with my whole insanely jealous thing.’ She opened her laptop and showed him the screen. It was open on her Facebook page and after a few moments of puzzlement Russell noted that her most current update status read: ‘Angie is very sorry for being horrible to her boyfriend last night.’ ‘See? That’s how sorry I am. Now all the world knows how horrible I’ve been to you.’
He laughed. ‘I think that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.’
‘Good,’ smiled Angie. ‘Because I mean it.’
Later, after breakfast, Russell and Angie left the flat and made their way to the bus stop. As they walked past the crowds of mums taking their kids to school Russell noted that Angie, who was not a morning person at the best of times, was being unusually chirpy, full of humorous stories and anecdotes as though taking it upon herself to be court jester for the day. Relieved that she was so determined to get into his good books he felt they had put the whole incident behind them.
‘So that was our first row,’ said Russell as they stood waiting for the 187 bus to take them into town, ‘it’s always good to get these milestones out the way as quickly as possible.’
Angie grinned. ‘It would have been a lot better if it had been you who had gone off on one rather than me. I hadn’t intended to reveal my bonkers streak for at least another six weeks.’
‘Still, it’s all sorted now, isn’t it?’
She nodded. ‘Yeah, we’re all good. And anyway, it’s not like you’re going to see her again, is it. Just stay clear of Tesco and I’m sure we’ll be fine.’
‘What do you mean, not see her again? Are you banning me from talking to Cassie?’
‘I wouldn’t call it a “ban” exactly so much as a veto . . . but if you want to call it a ban then by all means feel free to knock yourself out.’
Russell couldn’t believe it. ‘So you’re trying to tell me that I’m not allowed to talk to Cassie?’
‘Are you trying to tell me you’re planning to see her again?’
‘Of course I’m not planning it! I’m not stupid. But I did say that if she needed to talk to anyone then she could talk to me. She’s coming out of the end of a long relationship, Ange! All I’m doing is trying to be a mate to her.’
‘Well I don’t want you to be and anyway this is all academic. She won’t want you hanging about reminding her of Luke, will she? Plus, she’ll have her girl mates to do all of the crying and wailing stuff with. But if she does call just tell her you’re busy.’
Angie reached up and kissed Russell as if to underscore two contradictory messages: a) that she was being light-hearted and b) that she wasn’t being light-hearted at all and meant every single word. Either way it was clear from the kiss that as far as Angie was concerned that really was the end of the discussion. The fact that she was waiting for him to kiss her back was her way of asking if he was in agreement with everything that she had said. He of course wasn’t in agreement with anything, let alone everything, but as her lips hovered millimetres away from his own he didn’t have the strength to carry on the debate and so he kissed her back, convinced that as long as he did his best to stay out of trouble everything would work out fine.
‘You are amazing.’
It was early evening on the following Monday, roughly a month into Adam’s new relationship with Steph, and Adam was lying on his sofa like a lovelorn teenager rereading the last hour’s worth of text messages from his beloved who was away until the following Sunday evening on a training course in Oxford.
Text message to Adam: What are you doing? S xxx
Text message to Steph: Am trying to read that book I picked up from your bookshelf last week: Love in the Time of Cholera. Not exactly fast paced is it? How’s the course going? Ad xxx
Text message to Adam: Course is OK. People nice. Am missing you though. What manner of madness has possessed you to read Love in the Time of Cholera? You’ll hate it. S xxx
Text message to Steph: Because it reminds me of you in that it’s boring, long-winded and is yellow at the edges!
Text message to Adam: Ha! That is so mean!
Text message to Steph: I know! But seriously I am reading book because of you. Now that we are officially dating I feel I ought to put some effort into making myself appear as clever as you are. The last thing you need is for all your mates to think you’ve got so desperate that you’ve started dating down! Really wish you were here! A x
Text message to Adam: Ahhh! How sweet! I wish I were here too! And what do you mean exactly by ‘dating down’? There’s only one of us dating down here mate and that’s you! Seriously, though, could not be prouder of you. Can’t wait to show you off to my friends!
As Adam finished rereading Steph’s final text a huge grin somehow bolted itself to his face and was refusing to budge. In a deliberate attempt to get rid of it he thought about the piles of invoices at work, but still it remained; then he thought about the fact that the night before last some yob had smashed not just one but both of his wing mirrors and how astronomical the quote had been to get the work done at his local dealership and still it remained; finally he pulled out all the stops and thought about the fact that he hadn’t been to the gym because of all the time he’d been spending with Steph and how his midriff was feeling a little bit ‘looser’ than normal undoubtedly because of all the food he’d been eating with Steph and still the grin remained. There was no doubt about it. This grin was staying put.
Nothing had been the same since their kiss on the night of their first date. Waking up fully clothed in her arms underneath a duvet on her sofa the following morning Adam knew he had just experienced the single best night of his life; and the contrast between his night with Steph and the million one-night stands that he had shared with the Wrong Kind of Girls could not have been more marked. They had talked. They had laughed. But above all they had connected on a more fundamental level than he had ever experienced.
Feeling as though he needed to mark his arrival into the world of fully functioning adult relationships, Adam had carefully extracted himself from Steph’s limbs, borrowed her front-door key and sneaked out to the North Star Deli on Wilbraham Road where he picked up two hot chocolates and a huge box of freshly baked pastries. Just as she was stirring from her sleep he presented his purchases to her and had been more than a little startled when she gave him the oddest of looks. Adam’s imagination had gone into overdrive as he reasoned that perhaps a surprise breakfast of hot chocolate and freshly baked pastries might have been ex-boyfriend Rav’s signature move and now she was thinking about him. Apologising profusely for stirring up memories from the past, Adam had been about to get rid of the offending items when Steph had explained that she was looking at him oddly because Adam was being so nice to her. Perplexed at this complexity of thought processes Adam let out a sigh of relief and told her it was no big deal. He sat down on the sofa next to her, turned the TV over to one of the music channels and encouraged Steph to start eating and as they slurped hot chocolate, scoffed down pastries and took it in turns to perform a variety of comical reconstructions of R&B music videos, Adam felt sure that he was on to a good thing.
Back at his own place some time in the mid-afternoon Adam had been about to go to bed when he had received a text from Steph that read: ‘Hey you! Am off to bed just wanted to say good night and a huge thank you for the most fun that I’ve had in a long while. You are amazing. Sleep tight. S xxx.’ He had replied straight away (something along the lines that he too had enjoyed himself) and for the rest of the week that followed a constant stream of warm, funny and intimate messages bounced between her phone and his without a single call tak
ing place until, on the following Saturday morning when desperate to see her again, he had called her up directly and asked her out on a second date.
Adam had suggested all manner of restaurants and bars that they could go to but Steph had politely rejected each of his suggestions and instead offered up one of her own: the cinema. Adam had driven them both into town where they then visited the Cornerhouse and watched a French film with subtitles. Indifferent to the film (which to his mind was needlessly complicated) Adam had instead contented himself with simply holding Steph’s hand in the darkness while making plans about where they would go to eat afterwards. And later still, full to the brim as they left the small Portuguese restaurant off Deansgate that he had selected, he had driven them back to Steph’s house where they had sat up until the early hours talking about nothing.
Now after weeks of dates covering everything from art exhibitions to folk artists in Levenshulme (plus a week-long separation) Adam was now well beyond ‘like’ with Steph and though he insisted on baulking at the word ‘love’ whenever his subconscious threw up the concept late at night, at the same time there were moments when he couldn’t help but conclude that if what he was feeling looked, smelled and tasted like ‘love’ then chances were that it probably was.
And now that she was away the clarity of thought that separation sometimes brings persuaded him that there was one last hurdle left before he could relax fully into this new era of his life. Picking up his phone Adam typed out the following message: ‘I think it’s time you met my family,’ and pressed send.
‘Are you ready?’
‘I think we ought to cancel.’
It was just after ten on the following Sunday morning and Adam was standing at the cooker in Steph’s sun-filled kitchen making breakfast for the two of them while Steph sat at the table in the middle of the kitchen and in preference to reading the open newspaper instead chewed pensively on a fingernail.