by Jon Rance
‘Not really. I was sort of seeing someone before I left but I doubt she’s waiting for me.’
‘Why do you doubt it?’
‘Because I said, “Claire, please don’t wait for me,” ’ said Jez, causing us both to giggle.
‘And why didn’t you want her to wait for you? So you could sow your wild oats? Travel the world and shag lots of foreign girls in exotic locations?’
‘Hardly,’ said Jez quietly. I suddenly felt a tension between us I hadn’t felt before. He was looking directly at me, holding eye contact and looking as if he was about to tell me something really important. ‘The reason I came travelling, Kate, wasn’t to sow my wild oats or to avoid work, extend university or drink myself into oblivion. I came away because my brother died.’
My heart sank and I wanted to hug him with everything I had.
‘Richard was at university in Durham,’ Jez started and his face changed. A deep sadness seemed to lay itself over him, shrouding his smooth skin and bright blue eyes with a vulnerability. ‘Even though he was younger than me, I always looked up to him, you know. He was funny, clever, brilliant really. I probably should have hated him. He was always everyone’s favourite, including my parents, but I never could.’ Jez took a long gulp of his beer and lit a cigarette. ‘He was driving down to see me for the weekend. It was late and wet and he probably should have taken a break, but he didn’t. A lorry jack-knifed in front of him and he was killed instantly, or so the police said.’ Jez stopped and I could see pools of tears beginning to form in his eyes. He wiped them away quickly and gave me a smile. ‘We’d always planned on travelling together when he graduated, so when he died I took off. I didn’t even wait around for the funeral. I couldn’t sit in a church or watch him being buried and so this is my tribute to him. One year to remember him, do everything we should have done together, before I go home and start over.’
‘Oh God, Jez, I don’t know what to say. Is this what you were going to tell me the other day at the beach?’ I reached over and held his hand.
‘I just didn’t know how to come out with it. It’s still pretty raw.’
‘Of course and if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine, but I’m here for you,’ I gabbled. I didn’t know what to say. I’d had emotional upheaval in my own life, but nothing like this. I looked at Jez and he suddenly looked so young, so fragile.
‘It’s actually good to have someone to talk to about it who didn’t know him. Everyone back home is too close. That probably sounds crazy.’
‘No, not at all, it’s understandable.’
‘Is it though? Is it OK to just leave? Not say goodbye to him? Not go to the funeral?’
‘It’s death, Jez, there are no rules.’
‘I wish my parents felt that way.’
‘They will.’
‘They’re pretty pissed off. I left Mum in tears and Dad wouldn’t speak to me at all on the drive to the airport. They don’t understand.’
‘Give them time.’
Jez looked across at me and smiled, a tear suddenly falling down his cheek.
‘Thanks, Kate,’ he said, wiping away the tear, but it was quickly replaced by another and then another.
‘Let’s have a drink,’ I said with a thin smile, raising my glass. ‘To Richard.’
‘To Richard,’ said Jez and we both downed what we had left of our drinks.
Ed
The drinks with Georgie started on her first day. We went to a pub near work and it snowballed from there. We had a good time together. Despite being absolutely gorgeous she was fun and didn’t act like a twenty-two-year-old. We got on so naturally, as if we’d been friends our whole lives instead of for only a few hours. I think because she was completely out of my league and I had Kate it made it easier because it stifled any remote suggestion of something sexual happening.
Of course, our post-work drinks led to the normal office rumours, which began to circulate like wildfire. Ed Hornsby, the dirty old dog, was conducting an illicit affair with the beautiful and much-younger Georgie Hays, while his girlfriend was away travelling. Georgie and I tried to laugh it off, but I was soon standing in front of Hugh, hands nervously in my pockets, explaining myself like a naughty schoolboy.
‘What did I say, Hornsby, eh? Hands off. No funny business. I thought you of all people would know better. Tremendously disappointing to say the least.’
Hugh was sitting behind his enormous wooden desk, looking annoyed and agitated, his bulbous face getting redder and redder. Hugh didn’t like anything that detracted from his sole purpose: work. I’d seen other people in his office brought to tears for far less. I’d committed the worst possible sin in his eyes. I’d taken his mind off work and onto something far less honourable.
‘Hugh, honestly, it’s nothing. Just mindless office gossip. You know I’d never do anything to betray you or the company.’
‘So you haven’t been having cosy drinks with her after hours then, eh?’
‘We’ve had drinks, yes, but purely social and completely friendly. Nothing funny going on at all. She needed a friend . . .’
‘Listen, Hornsby, because I’m only going to tell you this once. Men and women don’t just go for friendly social drinks. You can call it that until the cows come home, but it doesn’t happen. No such thing. Either you want to bang her or she wants to bang you. Stop it now.’
Somehow his use of the word bang seemed to make the whole thing so unsavoury. I imagined Hugh at home demanding that Mrs Whitman stop watching the bloody Antiques Roadshow and bang him right away.
‘Yes, sir,’ I said and walked out of his office, hoping the entire floor wasn’t looking at me. Luckily they weren’t, but one pair of eyes was.
We’d already agreed on lunch, but I decided it was best to stop things right away. My plan in Kate’s absence had been to get ahead and definitely not find myself in Hugh’s bad books. Hugh didn’t give people the benefit of the doubt and he wouldn’t give me a second chance. I emailed Georgie as soon as I got back to my desk.
To: Georgina Hays
From: Edward Hornsby
Subject: Extra-curricular drinks
Had words with Hugh. We need to stop the after-work drinks. It was fun.
Ed
To: Edward Hornsby
From: Georgina Hays
Subject: Re: Extra-curricular drinks
Why???
G x
To: Georgina Hays
From: Edward Hornsby
Subject: Re: Extra-curricular drinks
Apparently it looks bad and can only lead to a life of debauchery and vice.
E x
To: Edward Hornsby
From: Georgina Hays
Subject: Re: Extra-curricular drinks
But it’s been fun and nothing’s going on. Just friends, right?
G xx
To: Georgina Hays
From: Edward Hornsby
Subject: Re: Extra-curricular drinks
Best to knock it on the head. Don’t want to upset Hugh and get you in trouble.
E xx
To: Edward Hornsby
From: Georgina Hays
Subject: Re: Extra-curricular drinks
I’m sad. One last drink? Friday night, somewhere different where no one will see us?
G xxx
I should probably have said no. It would have been the sensible thing to do, but it was just one last drink. Two friends having a couple of pints. It was nothing.
To: Georgina Hays
From: Edward Hornsby
Subject: Re: Extra-curricular drinks
Sure. One last drink sounds good.
E xxx
So it was I found myself sitting in a Clapham Common pub on a Friday night with my boss’s niece. Before, our drinks had been a couple of pints at one of the pubs near work, but this felt different. We were out of our comfort zone – and underground zone too for that matter. We’d specifically gone somewhere to have a drink and I knew it was wrong. We were sneaking around like lovers
.
Once we were at the pub it became clear something had definitely shifted in our relationship. It was easy to discard a casual drink after work because we didn’t have to alter the course of our lives to do it, but this was something else. This was deceitful. This wouldn’t end well.
‘Can you believe what Hugh said?’
‘It’s ridiculous. We’re adults and yet he’s treating us like his children,’ said Georgie.
‘I think to him we sort of are.’
‘That’s so yucky,’ she said and we laughed. We were sitting across from each other at a table. We’d already had a couple of drinks and had kept clear of anything too personal so far. I hadn’t asked about boyfriends and she hadn’t mentioned Kate. Everything was going to be fine.
‘So what happened to your girlfriend?’
I spluttered. ‘Kate?’
‘I remember you briefly mentioned she was away but didn’t elaborate. If it’s too weird . . .’
‘No, it’s fine. She’s off travelling for six months.’
‘And you didn’t go because—?’
‘I couldn’t leave work. This was something she wanted to do. It was her dream, not mine.’
‘And she left without you for six whole months?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Were you angry?’
‘I suppose I was, but when she left I think I was more disappointed than angry. I couldn’t believe she’d gone through with it.’
‘I don’t think I could do that to someone.’
‘Leave them?’
‘It’s just not right,’ said Georgie, looking more beautiful the longer we sat there. I’d already seen other men looking over and checking her out. All probably wondering what she was doing with me and I understood. I didn’t know why she was with me either. I was older than her, not anywhere near as attractive and I had a girlfriend. What could she possibly gain from hanging around with me? But despite all notions to the contrary, here she was. Georgie Hays and I were friends.
‘She had her reasons,’ I said, trying my best to defend Kate.
‘I’m sure, but she still left you.’
‘I suppose.’
‘I’d be livid if a man left me like that.’
‘And what would you do about it?’
‘Probably sleep with someone else to get my revenge,’ she said, and suddenly the air around me became a million times heavier. Had she really just said that? Was I taking it the wrong way or the right way? I didn’t know, but suddenly I was getting redder and goosebumps spread up my arms and down the back of my neck.
Was she flirting with me?
Did she want to have sex with me?
Did I want to have sex with her?
The alcohol was starting to pickle my brain from its usual state of logicality into a place where anything was possible. I looked at her and instead of looking sheepish or embarrassed by such a brazen statement, she looked deadly serious.
‘You, umm, think that’s what I should do?’
‘What do you think Kate is doing right now?’
Up until that moment, I hadn’t really been thinking too much about what Kate had been doing for the past few weeks. We spoke on the phone and she’d mentioned she’d met a guy called Jed or something, but I hadn’t or didn’t want to think about her living without me. Just the thought of Kate in Thailand and what she was doing made me nauseous. Not that I didn’t trust her, because I did, or I thought I did. But the fact was she’d chosen to leave me and if she could do that, what else was she capable of?
‘I should probably get another round in,’ I mumbled, before getting up and walking off towards the bar.
As it turned out, Georgie only lived a five-minute walk away from the pub. It was gone eleven and we were stumbling through the streets together. I was going to walk her home before getting a taxi back to Wandsworth, like a proper gentleman.
‘I’m sad,’ she said as we reached her front door step.
‘Why?’
‘Because we can’t do this anymore. I like you, Ed.’
‘I like you too.’
‘How much?’
‘A lot. Very much. This much,’ I said, stretching out my arms as wide as they would go.
‘Too much?’
I was going to say something, but before I had the chance she leaned in and we were kissing. I should have pulled away. I should have said no and left, but I didn’t. Georgie was young, beautiful and for some reason only known to her, she found me attractive. She wanted me and I couldn’t say no. The alcohol didn’t help, but it wasn’t an excuse. I knew what I was doing and I wanted it. Her lips were so soft and she kissed me like she wanted me more than anything in the world. But the elation didn’t last. It couldn’t. The longer we kissed the more I thought about Kate – the love of my life. The girl I planned to marry and spend the rest of my days with. What if she didn’t cheat? Then would I always be the one who had wrecked our relationship. I wasn’t that man. I quickly pulled away.
‘I’m sorry. I can’t do this.’
‘What’s the matter, Ed. Don’t you want me?’
‘Of course I do. You know I do. This isn’t about you, it’s Kate, I can’t cheat on Kate.’
‘Even though she’s probably cheating on you right now?’
‘Even so.’
She gave me a look I couldn’t decipher. I felt terrible. I wanted to say, ‘Fuck it, let’s go upstairs and get naked,’ but I didn’t. I couldn’t. The guilt would have torn me apart. I wasn’t equipped for the life of a philanderer. I was too weak or maybe too strong, I wasn’t quite sure which.
‘Your loss,’ said Georgie, who turned around without another word and slammed the door in my face.
I found a taxi and spent thirty minutes in the back racked with guilt. Should I tell Kate what I’d done? Was it worth it? Eventually, as we pulled up outside my house, I decided it was best not to. I hadn’t done much and it wasn’t worth the arguments it would no doubt create. I wouldn’t go out with Georgie again and so that was it. I would focus on work and I definitely wouldn’t kiss her again. I took a deep breath and realised I’d just dodged a big bloody bullet. I’d been a fool, but somehow I had escaped by the skin of my teeth.
Jack
Writing has always been my coping mechanism. I can lose myself in words and ideas so easily and when I do, everything else in the world seems irrelevant. It helped a lot when Dad died. I spent ages writing after the funeral. Most of it was nonsense, lots of wistful poetry and mawkish stories about death and loss, but some of it was useful.
I was at my desk trying to work through a few minor kinks in the synopsis before I sent my novel off to agents: my last chance to have the life I’d dreamed about since I was a teenager. It was terrifying to think it was my last throw of the dice, but I didn’t have a choice. Having a dream was one thing, but at the expense of everything else was too much of a sacrifice.
I was happy to have writing to do because I was keeping out of Emma’s way. It had been a tumultuous week; it started badly, with an argument about her late-night drinking session with Rhys. It wasn’t that I minded her going out with him, not that I was thrilled about it, but she didn’t think to even call me. I was at home with dinner ready, waiting to apologise about our earlier argument, while she was boozing it up with Rhys and his media mates in Soho. I waited until ten before I threw her dinner in the bin and went to bed in a strop. She came home past midnight and sneaked into bed reeking of alcohol.
I had to be at work early the following day and so I didn’t see her until the next night. We spoke, but it was tense and we both said things we probably shouldn’t have. Then on Tuesday on page thirteen of the Sun there was a picture of Rhys and Emma leaving a café together hand-in-hand. She was referred to as a ‘mystery blonde’ and perhaps Rhys’s new flame. She explained it was nothing, just typical paparazzi looking for a story where there wasn’t one. Since then it’s been a week of avoiding each other, monosyllabic conversation and mainly not speaking at all.
Neither of us, it seemed, knew where to begin.
‘I need to tell you something,’ said Emma suddenly.
I stopped what I was doing and spun around in my chair. She looked serious. Had she cheated on me with Rhys after all? It was the first thought that popped into my head. I tried to remain calm and not jump to any conclusions because I had no reason for not trusting her. Mum’s words echoed in my ears, ‘It’s ironic, but the fear of failure is often its catalyst’. I didn’t want to be the man who ruined a perfectly great relationship out of fear of losing it.
‘OK,’ I said calmly.
‘I have to go away for a week with the cast. It’s not until the middle of February, but I really need to go. Do you mind?’
Did I mind? I spent a moment thinking about it and the truth was I didn’t. I don’t know what she thought of me or what had happened to us over the past week, but I didn’t want her to think I was annoyed or jealous of her success. I didn’t know how to tell her it wasn’t her success I feared, but losing her because of it. Just looking at her sitting opposite me, so meek, it made me feel awful. I’d done that. I’d made her that way. Change was hard and the realisation I hadn’t handled it well made me feel like a prize idiot. My father’s words quickly followed Mum’s in my head, ‘We should love blindly without question, without regret and selflessly’. I’d been a selfish prick and I knew it. I looked at her and smiled.
‘Of course I don’t bloody mind,’ I said and we fell into a mad embrace. We kissed deeply before she pulled away and looked at me, tears washing around her eyes.
‘I’m sorry if I hurt you, I . . .’
‘It’s me who should be apologising. I’m sorry. I should have been more supportive and I wasn’t. I was stupid and a real prick about things.’
‘You were a bit,’ said Emma, with a ridiculously cute smile.
‘But not anymore. I’m going to support you and give you whatever you need. I’m so proud of you, Em and I love you so much.’