by Mike Gayle
a) feel better about herself
b) feel enough remorse to make her forgive him.
Bracing himself as best he could he tentatively ventured into the flat checking first the living room, quickly followed by the kitchen (plates still in sink but nothing out of the ordinary), the bathroom (no sign of a shower), the bedroom (evidence that she had at least slept in there at some point) and finally the airing cupboard (just on the off chance). Russell was disappointed to discover no sign of Angie. Had she gone away? He narrowed it down to a couple of educated guesses: her friend Katie’s house or her parents’ place in Chester. As Russell stared at the empty beer bottles from the night before still sitting on the coffee table, it occurred to him that a few months ago, had Angie felt angry and hurt and in need of someone to talk to, she would have turned to him. Right now she would have been cuddled up in his arms listening to him reassure her that everything would be all right.
Russell called her mobile again and although it rang out (so at least it was no longer switched off) she still didn’t answer it (meaning either she couldn’t hear it or was choosing to ignore it) and it went straight through to voicemail. Russell decided against leaving a message. Twenty seconds later he decided that perhaps he ought to leave a message after all and called her back. With his phone pressed up against his ear he began mentally preparing the message when he noticed something odd: he could hear (albeit faintly) Angie’s phone ringing nearby. It had to be hers. Angie was the only person in the world who could entertain having the opening bars of the world’s most annoying song (‘La Macarena’) set as her ring tone. Russell followed the sound of ‘La Macarena’ out of the living room and into the hallway. Hearing the sound of a key in the front door he realised that Angie was much closer to home than he had assumed.
Ignoring Russell as if he were a bin bag that she had forgotten to put out with the rest of the rubbish, Angie brushed past him, headed to the kitchen and slammed the door behind her. Slowly coming to the realisation that the longer he stood gawping at the wrong side of the door the worse it would be, Russell plucked up the courage to follow her.
Angie was leaning against the kitchen windowsill. She no longer looked quite as angry, just disappointed that he was still there.
‘I was hoping you’d gone,’ she said flatly.
‘Is that what you want?’
‘Why would you care what I want? From the evidence of last night it’s patently clear that what you want is far more important to you! You want Cassie? Then go ahead and have her because I don’t want anything more to do with you.’
‘It wasn’t like that, Ange, you have to believe me. She sent me a text asking me to meet her. She sounded like she was upset and I knew you’d never agree to my seeing her and so I lied.’
‘How many times?’
‘What?’
‘How many times have you lied to me?’
Was this the appropriate moment to tell the truth? Russell was pretty sure it wasn’t. ‘Last night was the only time. Really it was.’
‘Are you trying to tell me that last night was the first time you’ve seen Cassie since I asked you to stop spending time with her?’
‘Yes, yes of course.’
For a moment Russell thought he might be off the hook but then she held out her hand. ‘Give me your phone.’
Russell played for time. Had he deleted all of his texts to and from Cassie? ‘What for?’
‘What do you think I want it for? If you’re telling me the truth you won’t have any problem handing it over, will you?’
‘Fine.’ Russell reasoned it was worth the risk. With his heart thumping at double time he reached into his jacket pocket and handed the phone to Angie. ‘Here you go.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘I can’t believe you don’t trust me. I’m telling you the truth. Last night was the only time.’
‘We’ll see about that, won’t we?’ said Angie, apparently scrolling through for his text messages. When she pressed the call button and put the phone up to her ear Russell shifted uncomfortably.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Calling your girlfriend,’ replied Angie. ‘Cassie might be a lot of things but I’m pretty sure she’s not a liar. So do you know what? If I ask her how many times she’s seen you she, unlike you, will tell me the truth.’
‘OK, stop!’ said Russell, closing his eyes as he surrendered with both hands aloft. ‘Put down the phone and I’ll tell you everything.’
Angie shook her head. ‘You think I’d trust a word that comes out of your mouth? Once maybe, but not any more. You’re a liar, Russell Bachelor. A liar and a coward.’ Angie pressed the end call button and tossed the phone on the table. ‘I bet you never even told her about me, did you?’
‘Ange, please . . . just let me explain.’
‘Explain what exactly?’ snapped Angie. ‘How you met up with her behind my back? How you didn’t think you were doing anything wrong because you were only trying to be a friend? How you thought it would be OK to lie to me because I would never understand how you felt? How you thought this was something you had to do? Come on Russ, which bit do you want to explain or have I covered all the salient points?’
Russell looked down at the floor. ‘Ange, I know this is a mess. All I’m asking is that you understand that I never meant for any of this to happen. I never meant to hurt you.’
‘And that makes it all right? Poor Russ never meant to lie to my face and make a fool out of me by carrying on behind my back! It was an accident! Surely not even you believe that? I told you not to see her, Russ. I told you! And do you know why? Not because I wanted to be cruel. Not because I was jealous. Not because I didn’t sympathise with her predicament. It was because I knew this would happen. And I knew because I know you, Russell, like no one else does. And what breaks my heart is that you don’t know me. Because if you did you wouldn’t be standing here hoping I’ll forgive you. That’s never, ever, going to happen.’
‘She calls him by his name.’
Standing in front of the Wilmslow Road branch of Café Rouge Luke paid the driver of the minicab he had had to call that morning when his car battery had been flat. Burying his change deep in his jeans pocket he took a moment to calm down. It didn’t work of course. The shaking in his left hand was evidence enough of that.
Luke was overwhelmed by Jayne’s news. That she and Megan had been living in Manchester all this time! It didn’t bear thinking about.
Luke had wanted to know all the details – all the whens, whys and hows – but sensing Jayne’s reluctance to talk and, more importantly, afraid of scaring her off he had no choice but to let it go. Determined not to ruin his chances of making things right he pushed all thoughts of injustice to the back of his mind to concentrate on what really mattered, and when she finally suggested that the two of them meet the following day in Wilmslow he said yes without a moment’s thought.
‘Luke.’ Jayne stood up as he approached her table. She was wearing a white shirt and jeans and despite the immaculate layer of make-up he could tell she had spent much of the morning in tears. He wondered whether he felt sorry for her. He wondered whether she had spent the entire night imagining this moment. Finally he wondered whether any of the love he had once felt for her still lurked in some forgotten corner of his heart.
He sat down and she handed him a menu, which he declined politely. A waitress approached their table and Jayne ordered a cappuccino while Luke, fearing a scenario where he would be stuck looking at Jayne with nothing to say or do, opted for a straight filter coffee.
‘Listen,’ began Luke, ‘I know I’m in danger of repeating myself but I do need you to know how sorry I am for walking out on you last time. I thought I’d be all right seeing you but obviously I was wrong. Still, that’s no excuse, so, I’m sorry.’
‘It’s probably the least I deserved given the way things were in the past.’ She stopped and looked at him steadily. ‘I don’t mean to make excuses, Luke, but I was a mess back then. I didn’t deal
with any of it – being a mum, the end of our marriage – very well.’
‘I understand all that. We were both young. We made a lot of mistakes. But what I don’t understand . . . the thing I’ve really never understood is why you made it so difficult for me to see Megan when you knew how much she meant to me. She was my life, Jayne. Even when we were at each other’s throats you knew that. So why would you do it?’ He had much more to say. But there was little point in saying it if it frightened her away for good.
‘You’re right,’ said Jayne, avoiding eye contact. ‘I should never have used Megan to get at you. No matter what went on between us you were always the best father in the world to her.’
‘So why do it when you knew how much it would hurt me?’
‘Because that’s exactly what I wanted to do.’
‘Because you thought it would be easier for me to move on than it would for you?’
Jayne shook her head. ‘That might have been part of the reason but it wasn’t the reason in itself.’
‘So what was it?’
‘Because I was still in love with you.’
‘I don’t get it,’ he said eventually. ‘You acted this way for love?’
‘That’s what I thought at the time.’
‘And now?’
‘I know I couldn’t have been more wrong.’
The waitress arrived with their coffees and for a while neither of them spoke, lost in thought. Luke had a thousand and one questions and when he finally made eye contact with Jayne he could see, almost as if he were reading her mind, that now she had revealed the worst there was nothing to be afraid of asking.
‘Where are you living now?’
‘About ten minutes from here. I remarried a year and a half ago. We met in Bath. Megan thinks the world of him. John works for a big insurance company and when they asked him if he would head up a new office in Manchester he leaped at the chance.’
‘And it never occurred to you to contact me? What if I’d bumped into you in town or something?’
‘I thought about that all the time, Luke. But have you never had something that you knew you had to do but been unable to find the strength to do it?’
He knew she was right. He asked the question that was currently weighing on his mind. ‘What does Megan call him?’
‘She calls him John,’ she replied. ‘She always has done.’
Luke nodded. It was a relief but not much of one. ‘And where does she think I’ve been all this time? Does she remember anything about me?’
‘She remembers bits. And she’s got photographs. She does ask about you from time to time but she understands that the situation was complicated.’
Luke put his palms up to his eyes as if to force back the tears that were forming. ‘I want to see her,’ he said quickly. ‘I need to see her.’
‘I know you do,’ said Jayne. ‘And I’m not going to stand in your way.’
‘I hate the phone going in the middle of the night.’
Entering the gates of Chorlton Park Adam wondered what he was doing there. He was looking for somewhere to wait out the time that remained of Steph’s deadline and decided that the best things he could do would be to:
a) Keep occupied
b) not wait indoors.
He had toyed with driving out along the A6 to the Peak District with only his iPod for company to spend ten minutes or so taking a look at nature before jumping back in the car and returning home but had neither the energy nor the inclination to follow through with it. Taking a walk up to the High Street before heading to the bar to do some work he had ended up in the park.
Adam sat down on a bench near the children’s playground and automatically pulled out his phone as he always did whenever he found himself at a loose end. Soon he was trawling through all the text messages that Steph had sent him which in their own brief and funny way told the story of their relationship.
Even reviewing their relationship in his head Adam found it hard to believe. How of all people had he managed to find love and, even more alarmingly, with Steph Holmes? It was as if someone had flicked off a switch in his head from the moment he had bumped into her that fateful day in his local newsagent’s. Now that it was back on he could see how he had been fooling himself thinking that he could maintain any kind of long-term relationship when his parents, who were practically built for it, couldn’t even manage to do so.
He knew he ought to feel cheered that somebody as wonderful as Steph genuinely cared about what was going on in his life but he couldn’t. It was as though the news of his parents’ divorce and his father’s infidelity had hardened him, changed him in some profound way. He felt closed off not just from Steph but also from the person Steph had made him want to be.
He looked at his phone and began typing out the following text message: ‘I’m sorry but I just can’t seem to change my mind.’
At home that night Adam switched on the TV and headed into the kitchen to make himself some toast. With the toast popped and buttered went back into the living room and began scanning his collection of DVDs for something that would keep his mind off his parents and Steph. Plucking from the shelf something suitably action-heavy and dialogue-light, Adam slipped the disc into the DVD player and pressed play. The film had barely got past the impossible-to-fast-forward-through legal stuff at the beginning of the disc when Adam’s phone rang. Reasoning that it was best to get all distractions out of the way he picked up the phone and was surprised to see Luke calling.
‘All right, mate,’ said Adam. ‘You find me just about to start watching the Blade trilogy. I’m more than happy to press pause and hang on for a bit as long as you get your arse in gear. I might even have some of that microwave popcorn in—’
‘Adam, just listen for a second will you?’ interrupted Luke. ‘I’ve got some bad news. It’s about Dad. Something’s wrong with him. We don’t know what yet. But the ambulance is here and I’m going with him. You go and get Mum and I’ll see you at the hospital.’
Adam’s mum was on the doorstep waiting with her coat on and a large handbag over her arm as he pulled up outside his parents’ house to take her to the hospital. As she made her way down the front path Adam reached across the passenger seat and opened the door. She offered Adam a half-smile by way of a hello and then handed her bag to him as she climbed into the car and put on her seat belt.
‘So what do you know?’ asked Mum after a few minutes of silence.
‘I’m guessing everything that you know, Mum. Luke called me after he called you. He hadn’t a great deal of time to talk, as he was just about to get into the back of the ambulance. He told me he was in bed asleep, heard a loud crash from upstairs, went up and found Dad collapsed on the floor outside the bathroom. He called nine-nine-nine straight away and when they arrived they did some stuff with Dad to get him stable and now they’ve taken him to South Manchester.’
‘That’s all I know too. I was in bed when Luke called. I hate the phone going in the middle of the night. It’s always bad news. When Grandma died that call came in the middle of the night too.’ She looked at Adam. ‘Has someone called Russell?’
‘He said he’ll see us at the hospital.’
‘How did he take it?’
‘He was shocked and upset but for Russ seemed pretty together.’ Adam looked over at Mum. ‘He’ll be all right.’
‘I hope so.’ She turned to look out of the window.
‘We are cursed.’
‘We’re here to see George Bachelor,’ said Adam as they presented themselves at the main desk of the emergency department. They had waited for twenty minutes in the queue behind a young man whose shirt was caked in blood, an elderly woman and her carer and a worried looking middle-aged man and his teenage daughter. The temptation to eavesdrop had been overwhelming and grateful for the distraction Adam had listened in to conversations about injuries sustained during altercations outside nightclubs, unexpected side effects of new medication and enquiries about boys involved in motorb
ike accidents before he reached the front of the queue and was allowed to tell his own tale. ‘I’m his son. He came in a while ago.’
The woman behind the desk nodded and looked at the screen. ‘Bachelor, George, forty-four Woodford Road?’ Adam nodded. ‘He’s in with a doctor in bay three but he should be going up to a room on the ward within the hour. His other son . . . a Mr Luke Bachelor is with him at the moment. I’m afraid we only allow two people at the bedside at a time.’
‘That’s fine,’ said Adam. He looked at Mum. ‘Just do a swap. You go in and see him and I’ll wait here for Russ.’
After watching his mum disappear with a nurse Adam made his way to the waiting room and took a seat in the farthest corner he could find. He had been in enough hospital emergency waiting rooms over the years to know that the best thing was to keep himself to himself but as he was rummaging around for his iPod he looked up and saw Russell. Adam waved and within a few moments Russell was sitting by his side.
‘Any news?’
Adam shook his head. ‘Me and Mum only just arrived. She’s in with Dad and Luke at the minute. I told her I’d wait here for you.’
‘I couldn’t believe it. What do you think it was? A heart attack? Dad always seems like he’d go on for ever.’
‘And he will,’ said Adam firmly. ‘Whatever it is he’ll be all right. He just might have to take things a bit slower, that’s all.’
‘How did Mum react?’
‘As you’d expect. She hasn’t said much but I’m wondering if she blames herself.’
‘I was thinking she might go that way. But she shouldn’t. Things happen. That’s just the way it goes. What do you think it’ll mean for the divorce?’