by Iain Maloney
I sat at the gate listing changes to my CV, publications to add, crafting a statement of intent, where I wanted to go from here. I kept half an eye on the people around me. Perhaps Beth had changed her tickets. From my backpack I pulled out a paper I’d printed off before leaving the university, about the study in Turkey Dr Halabi had mentioned. He seemed very interested in it. Perhaps if he decided to go to Turkey, that would leave an opening in Manoa. I’d email Halabi and stay in regular contact with him.
They called my flight and I gathered my stuff together, everything in its place so I could easily find it while we were airborne. As I slung my backpack over my shoulder, Beth appeared beside me.
‘Are you going to tell him?’
‘Who?’
‘Graeme. Are you going to tell him that you’re a dyke and you cheated on him?’ She wasn’t keeping her voice low, assured in her righteousness.
‘Which do you have a bigger problem with? That I cheated on Graeme or that I did it with a woman?’
‘One just makes the other worse.’
‘That’s bullshit. You were all for gossiping when you thought I’d spent the night with another man. You’re a bigot, don’t hide it.’
‘I don’t intend hiding. But it’s that poor boy I feel sorry for, deluded into thinking you care for him.’
‘I’m sure you’d care for him much better.’
‘Oh, I would.’
‘Well you can fucking have him then. Only he doesn’t go for the fat ones.’
That was childish and I hated myself for saying it. But she deserved it. I handed over my boarding pass, praying Beth wasn’t seated anywhere near me. Would she tell him? I wouldn’t put it past her.
As we lifted off the Hawaii tarmac there was more than gravity pushing me into the seat. I was leaving the sunshine behind and heading for winter.
I got back to my house in Dunedin late, exhausted after the flights, the waiting, the taxi driver who wouldn’t shut up. Dropping my bags inside the door of my room I grabbed a towel and my dressing gown. Shower. Bed. The lights were on in the living room so I stuck my head in to say hi to Mike. Graeme was sitting next to him on the couch, both playing a football game on Graeme’s Xbox.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Oh, hey sweetheart. Just playing some… hey, no fair, I wasn’t paying attention.’ He paused the game, stepped over Mike’s outstretch legs, arms open. ‘Welcome home.’
‘I’m going for a shower.’
The hot water battered my scalp. I scrubbed hard, my skin red, the plane, the recycled air, the plastic food, getting it all out of my pores.
I towelled off, brushed my teeth and put the robe on. My bed was a mess. How many nights had Graeme stayed here? I climbed in, his smell, sweat musk. On my side, back to the door. This was where I’d run to. Where I’d built a home. He got in beside me, a hand on my hip, moving down. I shoogled it off.
‘You okay?’
‘Exhausted.’
‘I’ve missed you. You hardly replied to any of my emails.’
The scent of coconut still filtering through my blood.
In the morning I slipped out while he was sleeping and went for a run along Portobello Road, the wind off the ocean hard in my face, muscles pushing to counter it. Graeme was awake when I got home. He came through to the kitchen as I was draining a pint glass of water.
‘Are you not working today?’ I asked.
‘Got the day off. So I could be here.’
‘I’ve got to go into the office.’
‘You’re joking.’
I shook my head, refilled the glass from the tap and drank, the cold water rushing through my hot, tired body. I needed a shower but there was no point. I’d cycle into campus, use the showers in the gym.
‘But you just got back. I haven’t seen you for months. Haven’t heard from you hardly.’
‘I know, but I’m not on holiday. I have work to do. Lots.’ In the bedroom I emptied out my backpack on the bed, pushed in clean clothes and a towel.
‘You’re going now? Carrie, come on. I got today off specially.’
‘I didn’t ask you to, Graeme, and you didn’t ask me.’ I could hear the words coming out louder, faster than I meant. ‘If you’d asked me I’d have told you.’
‘I did ask you. I emailed you on Saturday. You never answered.’ I hadn’t even checked. ‘I have a whole day planned.’
‘I’m sorry. Look, I’ll be done by threeish. Meet me on campus then.’ In the hallway I changed into my cycling shoes, put a pair of trainers in my bag, opened the door.
‘Carrie.’
I looked back. He lunged at me, a kiss, and I jerked away. A second passed. Hurt in his eyes. Pathetic. ‘Sorry. You startled me.’ I kissed him, quick, on the mouth, stubble scratching.
At my desk I wrote out the to-do list that had been lengthening in my head and set about completing it. Emails to everyone who needed to know I was back. Emails to Professors Lau and Seung thanking them. An email to Dr Halabi thanking him for bringing the Turkey study to my attention, over-egging how interesting it was, hinting that I might be thinking about heading that way myself. Nothing motivates an ambitious scientist more than the thought of a peer getting there first. I made the changes to my CV and made a second list, this time of papers and reports to write.
Just after eleven o’clock Jeannie Parker opened my door, knocking as she did.
‘Morning,’ she said. ‘I heard you were back.’
‘Got your spies out?’
‘Claire saw a sweaty mess whizzing by on a bike. We figured it must be you.’
‘Guilty as charged.’
‘I’m just off for lunch. Coming?’
‘Definitely. Where to?’
‘Staff club?’
‘Done.’ I followed her out, locked my door behind me.
‘So how was it?’
‘Great. All according to plan.’
‘Any mysteries solved?’
‘We’ll see. Piles of data collected.’
‘Papers?’
‘A few.’
‘That’s what it’s all about. Funding, papers, funding, papers.’
The staff club was quiet so we took a table by the window, filled our plates at the buffet. Jeannie nodded at my plate. ‘Something you want to tell me?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Looks like you’re eating for two.’
‘God no. Airline food and jet lag. Forgot breakfast.’ I popped a cherry tomato into my mouth. ‘So what’s been going on while I’ve been away. Any scandals?’
‘My side of the building’s been pretty quiet but it’s all been kicking off on your floor. Have you heard about Paul?’
‘Paul Harding?’ Paul was taking up the slack while I was away. ‘What’s happened?’
‘He’s off. University of… can’t remember. India.’
‘His dream job. When?’
‘End of the semester.’
‘Good for him. Anything else exciting?’
‘No, that’s it.’ I breathed easier. If Beth had started spreading rumours, Jeannie would know all about it. ‘So tell me about Hawaii. I’ve never been. Is it as gorgeous as they say?’
‘Sun, beaches, tropical climate. Okay if you like that sort of thing.’
Back in my office, my mobile rang, snapping me out of a dwam. Graeme.
‘Hi.’
‘I’m downstairs. Are you done?’
‘Downstairs?’
‘Remember. You said to meet you on campus at three.’
‘I did. Hang on. I’m not… I’ll be a couple of minutes.’ I took all my things with me, I wouldn’t be coming back to the office that day.
Graeme was sitting on a bench across from the entrance, hands in his jacket pocket, legs stretched out in front of him, staring at his feet. His lips were moving a little, like maybe he was talking to himself, or singing under his breath. I dropped down by his side, startling him.
‘Hey. Sorry I kept you waiting. Head
up my bum all day.’
‘No problem. I’ve always got plenty of time for you.’
Did he mean that as reassuring or was it a dig at me? ‘Sorry about last night. This morning. Jet lag.’
‘No worries. Feel better now?’
‘Yeah. Still a bit spaced but much better. So what have you got planned for us?’
‘You sure you’ve got the time? You’re not going to say you have to go back to the office later?’
I showed him my bag. ‘Got everything with me. I’m all yours.’
‘That’s what I like to hear. There’s something I want to show you then we can get dinner. Plato’s okay?’
It had become something of a regular haunt for us, the associations with our reunion. ‘Sounds good. What do you want to show me?’
‘A surprise. Let’s go.’ He jumped up, suddenly full of life.
‘My bike.’
‘Bring it. We’re not going far.’
Pushing it along, we walked up Albany Street and turned left onto George Street. It was a bright sunny day and as we walked I remembered the first time we’d met up in Dunedin and I showed him around the town. Now he was leading me somewhere.
‘So, I was pretty busy while you were away.’
‘I saw. You and Mike were certainly busy with that Xbox.’
‘Very funny. Life got boring without you around so I joined a cricket team. He’s on it too.’
‘So how were you busy? Cricket doesn’t count.’
‘I got working on the designs. The guys in Fife loved them and we’re going forward.’
‘That’s great.’
‘Big load of cash coming my way. Up front and royalties.’
‘So do you have to go back?’
‘At some point but it’s still early days. They’ll send me some prototypes to test first.’
‘Snowboards?’
‘Everything. Boards, skis, gear, trainers, basically head to toe in Graeme Anderson kit.’
‘That’s amazing, congratulations. It’s great what you can get done when I’m not here.’
We waited for the traffic to stop, then crossed the road. ‘So what’s next? More designs?’
‘This.’ He stopped in front of a closed shop. It had been a shoe shop, the kind that sold cheap imitations of brand trainers.
‘This?’
He took a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door, pushing it open against the weight of junk mail. I wheeled my bicycle inside and leaned it against a shoe rack. All the stock had been cleared out but the shelves and stands remained. It must have been closed a while, a layer of dust on everything. I followed Graeme through, past the cash register still in place. There was a second room in the back with a mini kitchen, a big stock cupboard and, beyond that, next to the back door, a staircase.
‘You’re opening a shoe shop?’
‘A skate shop. Skating, surfing, snowboarding. The works.’
I didn’t know what to say. ‘You really have been busy. Have you signed a lease?’
‘Got the keys today.’
‘Can you afford it?’
‘I can now.’
‘And a business plan?’
‘I’ve been working on this for years, of course I’ve got a business plan.’
‘Sorry, you didn’t seem to be doing much.’
‘What does coming up with a business plan look like? Sitting in the library all day? I know what I need, I’ve been in touch with suppliers, Gabe’s sister has come up with a logo, the sign’s been ordered, I’ll get the flyers printed before I go back to the slopes, next couple of days off the lads are coming round and we’ll gut this place, redecorate.’
‘Sorry, I just…’
‘You just didn’t think I’d do it. Listen Carrie, I’m not an idiot. I know I’ve spent the last wee while flaking around but I needed to do that, you know? But now I’m in business, my name will be on gear all over the world, the money will roll right in.’
‘I’m really happy for you.’
‘Are you?’
‘Of course.’
‘You don’t seem very… enthusiastic.’
‘Jet lag.’
‘Come on then, I’ll show you the rest.’ He took my hand and led me out into the street and unlocked the next door along.
‘Have you rented upstairs as well? Makes sense. I was wondering how you’d get all the gear in downstairs.’
‘Oh, we’ll knock the staff room and the stock room through, make it one big open plan space.’
‘Are they not load-bearing walls?’
‘I’ve had the builders in, they can do it.’
‘So what’s up here?’
It was a flat, two bedrooms, living room, kitchen, bathroom. It clearly hadn’t been used for a while either and smelled musty and damp. He slid the living room window open, went through to the bedrooms and did the same. ‘The same guy owns both. When I asked him he gave me a deal on the whole building.’
‘Good idea, save on the rent from where you live now.’
‘Exactly. And the commute to work isn’t so bad.’
‘Beat the traffic.’
He went into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of champagne and two flutes. ‘I know you don’t but I thought you might make an exception. This is a special occasion.’ I took the glasses from him, there was no place to put them down but the floor. He unwrapped the cork and got his thumbs in position.
‘Careful.’
‘I’ve done this before.’
‘You’re not on a podium now. You could take an eye out.’
‘Yes, Mum. Here’s to Board Stupid.’
‘You’re not calling it that?’ The cork flew out, cannoning off the roof, hitting the floorboards and shooting out the open window.
‘Shit.’ We ran over and looked out. No smashed windows or car crashes. He poured out two glasses.
‘To your new place,’ I said. We clinked and drank. The bubbles fizzed into my head, tickling my nose.
‘Our new place.’
‘What?’
‘If you want. I thought, this place is big enough, it’s right in the centre of town, it’s near campus and, well, we’ve been going out for three years. I thought it would be, you know, a good time to—’
‘You decided we’re moving in together? Without asking me?’
‘I’m asking you now.’
‘But where did this come from?’
‘It’s hardly an idea out of the blue.’
‘It’s right out of the blue.’
‘It never crossed your mind?’
‘No, never.’
‘Oh.’ He put his glass down on the floor, sat down with his back against the wall. ‘But, we’ve been together three years. We’ve known each other for twenty years. We love each other. We’re over thirty. I mean, I’m not saying it’s time to get married and have kids, but it’s really never occurred to you that you might want to live with me?’
‘We knew each other when we were kids, Graeme, for ten of those years we didn’t even see each other. You make it sound like we’ve been a couple for decades, like this is fate or something. We’ve only just started going out. We’re still getting to know each other. If it wasn’t for the coincidence of your coming to Dunedin, we’d probably have gone another decade without crossing paths.’
‘Do you really think it was a coincidence I ended up in Dunedin? I love you, Carrie, and I came to find you.’
‘You said you were here on holiday.’
‘I was on holiday. I quit the circuit, I told you all that. But of course I chose Dunedin because you were here. I had the money, I could’ve gone anywhere. Your dad told me you were here. I found you on the website and emailed you.’
‘My dad?’
‘I was having a pint in Under The Hammer last time I was home and he was there. We got chatting.’
‘Oh great. A campaign, a whole fucking conspiracy of people sitting around in pubs in Aberdeen discussing me, passing on information about me.’
I was getting shrill, the champagne sloshing out of the glass as I gestured with it. ‘And you came over here with what, the idea that you’d get me into bed, we’d move in together above a fucking surf shop and then what? Married? Kids? I’d give up my career and cook and clean for you, get fat while you fucked teenage skate girls? Yeah, I know all about you, it’s not that hard really, but you know nothing about me, fucking nothing.’ I tried to put the brakes on, failed. ‘Well here’s some things you don’t know. I’ll never get married. I’m never going to have kids. You know my background. Do you really think I’d make the same mistakes my parents did? Here’s something else you missed. I’m bisexual. While I was in Hawaii I was fucking an American woman who made me come more in two long weekends than you have in three years. Didn’t know that, did you?’
I stopped. He was frozen, a pale statue.
‘Is that all true?’
I nodded. I took my glass through to the kitchen, put it in the sink, leaned against the counter. In his face the hurt turned to anger. ‘Look,’ I said, ‘obviously I didn’t mean to say all that, to tell you in that way. It was wrong of me. Horrible. But you, all this, took me by surprise. That’s not an excuse, it’s just… Fuck. I don’t know, Graeme. I can’t do all… this.’
‘You make it sound like you’ve been tricked but everything we did, everything between us, you agreed to. After three years I thought maybe we could take the next step. We spend most nights together anyway. But I get it now, you’re with someone else.’
‘It just sort of happened.’
‘You don’t fuck other people by accident. Do you know how many offers I get up in that resort every fucking day? And I’ve never said yes, not once.’
‘I’m sorry. Perhaps it’s for the best. Now you can screw all those piste girls.’
‘Fuck you. You’re right about one thing, Carrie. You are damaged. You’re fucked up and you fuck up everything you touch. I should’ve seen that. I guess love is blind. Blind and fucking retarded.’