by Mike Gayle
Luke started to tidy up the house but even as he began loading the dishwasher his heart wasn’t in it and he wandered back into the living room, pulled down one of three photo albums sitting on the shelf and opened it up.
On the first page was a picture of Luke and Jayne taken on the first day of their honeymoon in the Seychelles. They were standing by the edge of their resort’s swimming pool with the blue-green Indian Ocean acting as the perfect backdrop. Luke looked into the eyes of this younger version of himself and marvelled at just how much he had been in love. They had both believed their love would last for ever. And after all these years apart older, wiser versions of their past selves would soon be coming together in the hope of making sense of the mess things had become.
‘She’s amazing.’
Today was D-Day. After barely a few hours’ sleep he was up, showered and dressed at six a.m. and following a hurried breakfast had called a cab to take him to Piccadilly even though the train he was booked on wasn’t leaving until five minutes past nine. Loitering on the concourse for the train to be announced, Luke had been amongst the first passengers but as his carriage filled and everyone around him pulled out laptops, books and newspapers for their journey he noted he was the only person doing nothing. He took off his jacket and stared out of the window, lost in his thoughts.
A few hours later Luke had made his way to Leicester Square by Tube and then walked along Long Acre to his destination. Descending the steps into the bar he ordered a coffee and took a seat at a table opposite the entrance so that he would be able to see Jayne the moment she walked in.
The bar hadn’t changed a great deal from the days when it had acted as a second home to Luke and Jayne. The distressed-looking piano at the rear of the room, the basic and uncomfortable seating, the persistently wobbly tables, all were the same. Thinking how comforting this lack of change was in a world where everything else was in a state of flux, Luke waited patiently for his coffee to arrive and was in the middle of stirring two large lumps of brown sugar into it when he noticed the glass doors to the bar open and Jayne was standing in the doorway looking right back at him.
What surprised Luke wasn’t the fact that his heart immediately started racing or that he automatically rose to his feet in anticipation of her arrival but rather that the anger and bitterness he had felt sure would flood his system the moment she arrived failed to make its expected appearance. The unsettled feeling in his stomach was evidence it was still there but what was missing was the trigger. Luke had thought that the very act of being in the presence of this woman who had ruined his life, who had taken away the person he had loved most in the world, would have been more than enough to cause him to vent the full force of his anger. After he had first stopped seeing Megan there had been times when all he had thought about was having his revenge on Jayne, making her experience a fraction of the suffering he had felt at her hands. Now all that hatred and bile, though present, was under control, waiting, lurking, for its moment of release.
Exchanging wary smiles in lieu of physical contact Luke asked Jayne what she wanted to drink, ordered it at the bar and then returned to his seat.
‘I knew that you’d call one day,’ said Jayne quietly. ‘I knew that you’d want Megan back in your life.’
‘I always wanted Megan in my life, Jayne. Always.’
‘I know, of course you did. I didn’t mean it like that, I meant that . . . I don’t know . . . I meant that I knew you’d never forget her. Despite everything that happened I always knew that you weren’t that kind of man.’
‘How is she?’
‘She’s amazing.’ Jayne reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope full of photographs. ‘I had these printed up for you. You know the kind of thing . . . birthdays, Christmas, holidays.’
Luke grazed his fingers across the envelope but didn’t open it. ‘Thanks. I really appreciate the thought.’
One of the bar staff arrived with Jayne’s coffee and set it down in front of her. She looked around. ‘This place hasn’t changed much, has it?’
‘No, not really.’
‘What made you choose it?’
Luke shrugged. ‘I don’t really know you any more and you don’t really know me. So it seemed sensible to choose somewhere from back when we did know each other.’
‘I’m glad you did,’ said Jayne.
Over the next half-hour she proceeded to tell Luke the story of her life from the point at which he had ceased to be a part of it, although at times she seemed to be deliberately vague as though fearful that her words might at some point be used against her. From what Luke could gather Jayne and Megan had only lived in Brittany for a year before homesickness resulted in both her and her parents returning to Bath. Having been employed in a number of part-time jobs while Megan was young Jayne was now working in marketing for a computer software company and was apparently doing very well. Interspersed amongst all this were various tales of failed relationships and long and involved rows and complications with her parents that seemed to indicate she was no longer living with them. After listening patiently for a long time Luke sat up abruptly, looked her straight in the eye and said: ‘I don’t care about any of this, Jayne. I really don’t. All I care about is Megan. I want to know how she is and I want to know where.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quickly. ‘I know I should’ve come to the point but I couldn’t help myself. I got scared when I heard that you were trying to get in contact with me. Before I say anything more I want you to promise that this isn’t about trying to take her away from me.’
Luke couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How dare she sit across from him and demand that he promise not to take their daughter away when that was exactly what she had done to him? How dare she make any demands of him? That seemingly innocent comment unlocked every last bit of anger that he felt towards her and he lost all sense of proportion and level-headedness. ‘And what if it was, Jayne?’ he said, slamming his open palms down on the table in a sudden burst of anger. ‘What if it was about me wanting to take our daughter away from you? Would that be your worst nightmare? Because if so then maybe I should try it! At least then you’d know what my life’s been like since you took her away from me!’
Everyone in the bar was looking at them so Luke tried to calm down but it felt like an almost impossible task. All he wanted to do was vent all the pain and the anger that he had stored up for so long. He wanted to yell and scream at Jayne until she was in tears.
‘I can’t do this,’ he said, standing up abruptly. ‘I thought I could but I can’t. If you’re any kind of human being at all you’ll tell Megan that her dad loves her with his whole heart and will never ever forget her. But as for this . . . me talking to you here and now while you dare to ask me not to do the things you’ve done to me, well we’re done. And we’re done for good. I never want to see or hear from you ever again. Megan will come and find me one day, I know she will. And when she does I will tell her every last twisted and evil thing that you have done to keep us apart.’
‘I think you did a better job of being a member of the Bachelor family than any of the rest of us ever did.’
It was the following Thursday evening and Russell was on his way out of work when his mobile rang.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Russ, it’s me,’ said Cassie needlessly. His breathing had speeded up simply at the sound of her voice.
‘Hey you,’ he replied. ‘Is everything OK?’
‘Everything’s fine. I’m just calling because . . . well . . . when I last saw you . . . you mentioned that if I ever needed to talk to someone . . . you don’t have to of course, it’s just . . . I don’t know, I feel like all my friends . . . they’re great and everything and I’d be lost without them but none of them really know Luke . . . do you know what I mean? Not in the same sense that you and I know Luke and I’m still trying to make sense of it all and I’m finding it really difficult and it’s our anniversary next week and anyway I was thinking about
it all and . . . well, I don’t know, I just sort of hoped that you wouldn’t mind . . . you know, for old times’ sake at least, meeting up with me.’
‘Listen, it’s fine, Cass. Really. I’d love to meet up with you. I said you could call me any time and I meant it. When were you thinking?’
‘Well, I was actually thinking about tonight if that’s convenient?’
Russell felt sick with tension. He couldn’t possibly do tonight. Angie had been texting him all afternoon about the special meal she was making for him. There was no way he would be able to get out of that without causing his early demise. He could however do the weekend. Angie was heading up to Blackpool first thing on Saturday morning for her friend Rebecca’s hen do and had already informed him that if the last hen do was anything to go by it was unlikely that she would make it back to Manchester before Sunday evening. ‘I can’t really do tonight, Cass. I’ve got something on which I can’t cancel but how about Saturday? Maybe in the afternoon. I could do any time that you like then. We could go for a coffee or something?’
‘Thank you,’ said Cassie, genuinely pleased. ‘Why don’t I text you tomorrow and we’ll work out the details?’
‘That sounds great,’ replied Russell. ‘Hear from you tomorrow.’
For the first few moments after waking up on Saturday morning Russell felt as though this was just another ordinary day. Although Angie was nowhere to be seen he could hear her in the shower through the thin walls of the flat and feel the last traces of her body’s warmth lingering on the sheets. Thinking about Angie made Russell happy. Thinking about Angie going away for the weekend however made him feel nervous and thinking about Cassie in any way, shape or form made him feel as if he was the repository for all the guilt in the world.
The main reason for his guilt was because he had agreed very much against Angie’s express wishes to see Cassie that afternoon but there were other more subtle reasons to feel guilty too. The first was that he had yet to tell Cassie he even had a girlfriend, let alone that he was living with one. Why for instance had he chosen to tell her that he had ‘something on’ rather than the more accurate ‘my live-in girlfriend’s cooking dinner for me’? Then there was the fact that, faced with the dilemma of when to see her, an alternative time had come to him so quickly – and why Saturday afternoon of all times? If he really didn’t have any feelings for her then why hadn’t he simply suggested that he saw her in the evening? Had he chosen an afternoon meeting because he thought it was safer? And if it was safer, what danger exactly was he trying to prevent? Russell had a bad feeling about the day. A very bad feeling indeed.
At five minutes to one Russell made his way up the steps to the Lead Station and poked his head through the doors looking for Cassie. Generally speaking Russell avoided places like this at the weekend because they tended to be packed to the rafters with people having better weekends than his own but when Cassie sent him a text suggesting this as a potential venue he had said yes immediately.
Ordering a coffee at the bar Russell wondered if he should have waited until she arrived but then just as he was in the process of calling the waitress back over to cancel his order Cassie walked in and with her entrance he seemed to lose the power of speech.
She made her way over and within a few moments was squeezing him tightly as she had done a million times before, except this time it felt different, more intense, as though they were sharing some kind of unspoken bond. Russell didn’t want the embrace to end. He relished feeling needed by her. He loved being someone who had the power to comfort her instead of simply being her ‘kid brother’.
‘So have you heard from Luke at all?’ asked Russell twenty minutes into their conversation.
Cassie nodded. ‘We spoke last week about a few loose ends: bills that needed paying, mail that needed forwarding, that kind of thing.’
‘And did you get any sense that he wanted to . . . I don’t know . . . fix things?’
‘He was in tears by the end of the call. We both were. It’s just a horrible situation. It’s like he’s stuck in this continuous loop that doesn’t make any sense. He says he loves me and he wants to be with me and would never want to deny me anything that would make me happy and then in the next breath he’s telling me that I did the right thing and that I have to move on because he can’t see any way round this mess. Does that make any sense to you?’
Russell shrugged. ‘It’s hard to say, Cass. It broke his heart when he stopped seeing Megan. He wasn’t himself for a long time afterwards. So I can sort of understand his reluctance . . . not that you might do what Jayne did . . . but he probably sees the idea of having more kids as some sort of betrayal of Megan.’
Cassie just sat shaking her head for a while, clearly trying her best not to cry. ‘Have you seen him lately?’ she asked eventually. ‘Is he doing OK?’
‘I haven’t seen him in a while,’ replied Russell. ‘I only know Dad’s living with him now because Mum mentioned it in passing. I think that’s what’s wrong with all us Bachelor men . . . we’re completely crap at communicating with each other.’
Cassie attempted a smile and just about succeeded. ‘Oh come on, Russ, that might be true of your brothers but it’s hardly true of you, is it?’
‘I think it might be, you know. I talk to Mum because I was her last kid and so she and I are a bit closer than the rest of the family but since all this stuff with Dad kicked off, I’ve barely seen him. Adam always seems really busy and Luke’s pretty much kept himself to himself. I don’t think you really understood this but you . . . well, you were really good for us all. You brought us all out of ourselves and made us more relaxed. I mean take that whole fortieth anniversary thing you were planning. Obviously it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen now but if it hadn’t been for you none of us would have given it a thought. I think you did a better job of being of a member of the Bachelor family than any of the rest of us ever did.’
‘I’ve done the male-dominated household and let me tell you, it’s hard work.’
Russell and Cassie talked for hours. In fact they talked for so long that only when Cassie excused herself from the table to make a trip to the loo did Russell emerge from the trance-like state into which he had fallen during the time he had spent in her company. Looking around the café it became apparent how much time had elapsed. The faces of the patrons at surrounding tables had changed without him even registering their passing and the influx of newcomers (women with babies, couples reading newspapers, groups of friends all laughing and joking with each other) who had appeared as if by stealth was startling.
Double-checking that Cassie was nowhere to be seen Russell pulled out his phone and finally read the text messages that he had deliberately chosen to ignore. They were all from Angie.
Message 1: Hey you, just to let you know that we arrived safely, have had a long boozy lunch and are now heading for the rollercoasters! Miss you loads. A xxx
Message 2: Have just been showing the girls all the pictures of you that are on my phone. They are all in agreement that you are by far the best-looking boyfriend I have ever had! Don’t let your head swell!!!! Love you loads. A.
Message 3: It’s cocktail time! Love you xxx
Message 4: It’s still cocktail time!!!! xxx
Message 5: Cocktail time has claimed first casualty. Bride to be’s sister is throwing up in loos as I type!!! Miss you crazy legs! A xxx
Russell was about to compose a reply that would go some way to making recompense for his earlier non-replies when another message arrived.
Message 6: Am v. drunk!!!! Have I told you how much I love you? RUSSELL BACHELOR YOU ROCK MY WORLD!!!!!!! XXXX
Nervously biting his lip as he kept look out for Cassie Russell typed the following reply: ‘I’ll make sure that we’re well stocked with Nurofen for your return home!!! Love you, you mentalist! R xxx’ and then pressed send just as Cassie returned to the table.
‘What’s up with you? You look a little bit shifty.’
Russell looked up. ‘It was nothing,’ he said, quickly shoving his phone into his trousers pocket. ‘Just a mate sharing a bit of an in joke that we’ve got going on. So what now?’
‘Haven’t you got anywhere you need to be?’ asked Cassie. ‘Come on Russ, there’s no need to be polite. You’ve gone way beyond the call of duty now, OK? You don’t really have to waste any more of your weekend looking after me.’
‘I have no plans,’ said Russell with a grin. ‘Because like you I have no mates and no life so why don’t we carry on hanging out together until one or other of us gets bored?’
‘That’s what you really want to do?’
‘No, Cass, that’s what I really, really want to do.’
‘You do realise that you’re making both of your brothers look like poor choices in comparison, don’t you?’
‘Yeah, I’ve been thinking it’s about time someone put them in their place.’
Allowing Cassie to take his arm Russell made his way out on to the pavement where Beech Road was now practically swimming in smug-looking couples who were doing the weekend strolling thing. Russell couldn’t help a small glow of pride at the thought that every one would jump to the conclusion that he and Cassie were together. It was like being in a dream and yet fully awake. If he didn’t keep his mouth shut he would be sure to involuntarily communicate the pleasure he was feeling in a fashion that would leave both of them severely embarrassed.
With no plan in mind they strolled aimlessly, content to simply walk and talk in what remained of the day’s sun, and eventually found themselves heading into Chorlton Park where they sat down on a bench overlooking the children’s play area.
‘How could anyone not want one of those?’ asked Cassie, pointing out a little girl wearing a pink T-shirt and yellow shorts chasing after a ball. ‘Look at her, she’s adorable.’