Downward

by White, Bethan

  And bosh! There it was, Megan thought. Just when you thought it was safe to relax, the sucker punch. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Don’t say “Oh” like that. It’s nothing bad. Well, I don’t think it’s bad. But I need to be the one to tell you. Okay?’

  ‘Okay. Nothing bad.’ She sounded like a little girl, she realised, but she couldn’t help it. She hadn’t liked this guy at first, he wasn’t her type, no matter how you looked at it, but she really needed to be looked after right now. And she thought that, for a while, he might.

  ‘Nothing bad, I promise. I’ve been a bit cheeky and got Lily to come round tonight. We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to, but it will save you having to worry about Kyle. If you want to go out, fine. Come round to mine, fine. It’s your call.’

  This was crazy. She just couldn’t make decisions any more. ‘Yours?’ It was half question, half statement.

  ‘Mine it is. I’ll pick you up at seven. We’ll order takeaway, so don’t eat. See you.’ And that was it, phone down. Businessmen didn’t hang about, she thought. Sometimes when she had been on the phone to Chris, it had taken them ten minutes to decide who would hang up. She gave herself a mental slap – stop comparing this guy with Chris. It was like comparing chalk with cheese.

  The phone rang again. Sam. She thought for a moment, then rejected the call. Tomorrow; tomorrow she would talk to Sam, but before that, she needed to know what Will had to say.

  Claire opened the door to Chris with the same enthusiasm as he imagined medieval peasants did to the plague doctor. ‘Chris.’ It was neither statement, nor question, nor welcome.

  ‘Claire.’ Right back atchya. ‘I guess Mum has rung …’

  ‘Oh, yes. She has. I gather the vicar got sussed at last.’ Claire always called him ‘the vicar’ as if to use his name would choke her. She looked at her brother, standing on the doorstep. When they were kids, they had got on; they got on now, as long as they didn’t see too much of each other. She missed him sometimes, just as he missed her. But the memory always turned out to be better than reality after an hour or two. But for this evening, dissing Mike Green up hill and down dale would keep them off the usual argument subjects like … everything. She smiled and reminded him of Cassie. ‘Come on in. Tell me all about it. But, Chris, we have to have this clear. One night. No getting pissed.’

  ‘One night. Sober as a judge.’ Chris stepped inside and reached for a hug. She squeezed him once, then let go.

  ‘You smell a bit …’

  He sniffed his sleeve. ‘Smell? Do I? What of?’ Surely, not desperation already, like the guys on the benches outside the Social?

  ‘It’s just … old clothes, I think. I’m guessing … Mum rifled the jumble sale pile, yes?’

  ‘Well, yes … but a while ago. These have been cleaned, washed, everything.’

  ‘Yeah, but it lingers, doesn’t it?’ She looked down at their feet. ‘That bag. Is that all you’ve got?’ She could always cut straight to the chase, straight to his heart.

  ‘I … I didn’t bring stuff with me,’ he said, hearing the whine enter his voice. ‘I just …’

  ‘Walked out. Yes, I know.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Belligerent, now. They seemed to be packing at least a week of arguments into five minutes.

  ‘Well, I rang Megan, of course. Kyle is my nephew, after all. Nothing is going to change that. She wasn’t very forthcoming. Let’s face it, Chris, she and I never exactly saw eye to eye. But she did mention that you hadn’t taken much.’

  ‘Umm … did she say what she had done with my stuff?’

  ‘It wasn’t that kind of conversation. Anyway,’ she sniffed again. ‘Sorry, Chris. You really do pong.’ She glanced up at the clock on the wall and reached for her car keys. ‘Look. Let’s go out to Tesco. We can get something for supper that isn’t takeaway; do you fancy steak? I haven’t had red meat for ages but once in a while can't kill us, can it? And while I do the food shop, you can choose some new clothes. If you pick with care, you won't look too Florence and Fred. Or we could do Asda, for some nice George. Or Sainsbury’s …’

  ‘Claire. Stop. I’ve got hardly any money. I was told today … well, I’m not going to tell you everything I was told today, but let’s just say I’m not getting any help any time soon. So, clothes are way down my priority list.’

  ‘What did I buy you for your last birthday?’

  He was startled. ‘Nothing. We never buy for each other at birthdays. Never have, as far as I can recall.’

  ‘Well, there you are, then. We’ve got a few decades of presents to catch up on. So a few pairs of jeans and some jumpers won't hurt. Put your bag in the corner, there, and let’s get going. The Tesco is 24 hour – let’s go there. They’ve got a better choice for men as well – Gok Wan isn’t really in touch with his masculine side.’

  ‘You know you’re speaking a foreign language, don’t you?’ he said, giving her a brief hug. He knew when his sister wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  She looked up at him and smiled Cassie’s smile again, with a hint of Kyle around the eyes. ‘I asked for a sister,’ she said, ‘and I just got you. I complained, but apparently, you can't send babies back.’ She crossed her eyes. ‘I understood why not when we had sex education lessons.’

  They went out, laughing, to the car. But just for one night, Chris thought. Let’s not spoil it. The Chinese might say that guests and fish both stink after three days, but in Claire’s book, guests just stank. Full stop.

  Megan was excited in a way she hadn’t been for years. Part of the reason for the butterflies in her stomach was anticipation. But a far greater part was fear. She felt like she had as a child when she couldn’t have a favourite toy. Her mother’s idea of parenting had been reward and punishment, with the latter being her own personal favourite. Megan had learned not to show she liked something because that was the best and quickest way of having it taken away. And that was what she was feeling now.

  Kyle had greeted Lily with more enthusiasm than Megan had seen him show in months. They had gone off into the autumn garden on business of their own and she had got ready with far more care than she had the previous Saturday night. Then she had something to prove. Now, she just wanted to look her best. She had never felt this before, this sudden onset of what some might call stupidity. She had known Chris for ages before they even spoke. Moving in together, having Kyle, had all been done because it was expected. And the fact that most of her friends and none of her family had liked Chris was almost an added bonus; if no one thought he was all that special, no one would try and take him away from her. Her heart jumped at the thought of him; she still loved him so much, but knew for her own sake she had to try and stop. Because here was the rest of her life. And if she wasn’t very much mistaken, it was pulling up outside now and pipping the horn.

  Kyle rushed over and gave her a hug as she popped her head around the back door but there were no tears, no tantrums. She wondered whether she would ever be able to make him smile like that; somehow, Lily had found a way into his little world and he was happy to have her there. Never mind; time to worry about that another day. For now, she just needed to make her heart beat quietly enough to allow normal conversation.

  She shut the door and walked the few steps to the kerb. The car was, of course, long and sleek. It didn’t have a child seat in the back. It didn’t smell just ever so slightly of old sandwich wrappers and small boy. She reached for her seat belt and bought herself a few seconds of not having to make eye contact with Will, not having to decide whether to kiss him or not. He smiled at her and put the car in gear. She felt that he knew all the tricks, that she couldn’t make him feel awkward, no matter what she did and although she didn’t like smooth men as a rule, it was certainly nice not to have to second guess him all the time. The car was as smooth as its owner. There seemed to be no sound inside the leather-scented cocoon. She turned to him eventually and returned his smile.

  ‘You must think I’m weird.’
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br />   ‘Not really.’ He smiled again. ‘Well, possibly a little. But in a good way.’

  ‘There’s a good way of being weird?’

  ‘You don’t seem to be a homicidal maniac. You had plenty of chance to hatchet me to death over the weekend and you didn’t, so that’s a bit of a plus in my book. My mind was often,’ he lowered his eyelids and smiled a slow smile, ‘elsewhere.’ He slowed down, looking carefully for a parking space. ‘Hold on a minute. This is where I show my inner psychopath. Finding a permit space here is like finding the Holy Grail.’

  ‘There’s one!’ She pointed excitedly.

  ‘Good girl!’ He slid the car effortlessly into the space. ‘And just outside, too.’

  Megan had never been that keen on being called good girl. It was demeaning and condescending … wasn’t it? But there was nothing like that about Will. He handed her out of the car, he pushed open the double glass doors of his block, he ushered her into the lift. None of this seemed demeaning to her. In fact, it made her want to purr like a cat that had finally found the cream. And she would have purred, except that there was still the nagging voice in her head, the voice that sounded sometimes like Sam and sometimes like her mother, that said that surely, surely this was all too good to be true. Why should this all be happening to a loser like you?

  The flat he ushered her into was like something out of a magazine. She and Chris had often laughed at the places they saw on TV – not a newspaper out of place, not even a single wilting leaf on a plant. No dog or cat hair, no coffee cup with the dregs gone hard and just that bit furry. Megan’s place was looking the best it ever had, her evenings lately being full of nothing but time, but it would never be as clean as this. She looked at Will and laughed.

  ‘God, this is tidy!’ she said. ‘I don’t know where to sit in case I squash a cushion.’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s only tidy because I’m hardly ever here,’ he said. ‘I often sleep at the office. We’ve got a little bedsit thingie there. Brian doesn’t use it because …’

  ‘He’s got Sam.’

  ‘Well, yes, I suppose that’s right.’

  Megan looked dubious. ‘You mean Brian’s playing away?’

  Will laughed. ‘It’s what Brian does. You don’t get to his age with no wife, even an ex one, without being a bit … unreliable. I’m sure Sam knows what she’s getting in to. She’s not exactly monogamous, if what I hear is true.’

  Megan took a step back and set her mouth. ‘That’s my best friend we’re talking about,’ she said, coldly.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Speaking out of turn. Let me take your coat then you can squash the cushion of your choice while I get the takeaway menu.’

  She shrugged out of her coat and chose a chair that was so huge she felt like Kyle must do every day of his life; as if she was in a land of giants.

  He walked across the room from the hall with a tablet in his hand. ‘Budge up,’ he said, squeezing in beside her. ‘That chair is a bit big for one though,’ and he eased a thigh for a moment, trying to get comfortable, ‘just a threat too small for two, I admit.’ He held up the tablet. ‘Chinese? Italian? Indian? Mongolian? A combination of all four?’ He looked at her. ‘Megan. Say something.’

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ she said.

  ‘You’re not hungry and …?’

  ‘There’s no and,’ she said. ‘We’ll eat later.’

  ‘Did I upset you, talking about Brian?’

  ‘No. Well, yes. But I know you brought me here to tell me something and suddenly, I need to know what it is. Then we’ll eat. If … if I still want to stay.’

  ‘You can go when you want,’ he said, ‘but I don’t think what I’m going to tell you is going to put you off your food, you know. But if you’d rather wait …’

  She nodded. It was hard to speak with her heart in her mouth.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, and pulled her closer so she was half on his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. It was easier that way. ‘I wasn’t sure how much if at anything Brian and Sam had told you about me.’

  ‘I hadn’t even heard of you until I met you on Saturday. I hadn’t heard about Brian, either, to be honest. It’s not like Sam to keep things back, but she had.’

  ‘Right. Well, in that case, this is going to be easier. Brian is prone to telling everyone I’m gay …’

  She twisted her neck round to look up into his face. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Well, it’s not unknown, is it, for fathers of ten to suddenly come out. But in my case, it isn’t true. I had a … I don’t know the word. A troll. A stalker. A cross between the two. I think I know who it was, but we’ll get to that later. For about the last three years, there have been things appearing on social media and other platforms … you’ll have to excuse me if I go a bit jargony, it goes with the job, I suppose. Anyway, they haven’t been overly outrageous, they don’t use bad language; in fact, they have been carefully crafted not to alert any bots or anything and get the posts booted off. But they all say one thing. That although I appear to like women, I am actually gay. The person gives dates and details.’

  ‘Is that it?’ Megan didn’t look up this time. Bells were beginning to go off in her head.

  He leaned his cheek briefly on her head and gave her a squeeze. ‘That’s often enough,’ he said. ‘I’m always torn whether to tell or not to tell. Either way usually means my calls go to voicemail. No smoke without fire, that kind of thing.’ He waited for a moment. ‘But not with you, it seems.’

  ‘No.’ She struggled upright. ‘Can we squash some other cushions? This chair is really uncomfy.’

  He laughed and got out of her way so she could get up. ‘Isn’t it? But the designer … they were trendy at the time.’

  ‘Designers?’

  ‘Oversize chairs. I’ll change it if you don’t like it.’

  They stood looking at each other as the words sank in. ‘I … it’s no business of mine, is it?’ she said at last.

  ‘Perhaps not,’ he muttered and sat on the settee, patting the next seat. ‘Let’s hear it, then.’

  ‘I don’t know … I …’ She sat down and leaned back, arms folded across her chest, facing forward. And she told him everything. About Chris. About Louise. About how her life had suddenly unravelled and how now, having heard his story, she wasn’t sure any more.

  ‘Did you believe him?’ he asked, simply. ‘When he told you what had happened, did you believe him?’

  ‘Yes.’ And she had. She really had.

  ‘Then why did you throw him out?’

  ‘Well … he’d …’ She had no answer.

  ‘You threw him out,’ Will said, ‘because you didn’t want him to be there any more. You didn’t want his nightmares, his moods, his, well his lies, if that’s what you thought they were. If you believed him, truly believed him and wanted him, wild horses on their bended knees couldn’t have prised him from you.’

  She sank her chin on her chest and let the tears flow down and soak into the silk of her shirt, chosen so carefully not so long before.

  He reached out and stroked her arm. ‘I’m not judging you, Megs,’ he said, and she flinched at the endearment. ‘I’ve had it done to me. I’ve done it. Life isn’t simple. Sometimes, someone who you love to the moon and back is bad for you. Sometimes, someone you can just about tolerate is the best thing to keep your life on track and you well and happy.’

  She nodded and sniffed. He was right. But that didn’t make everything else right. Was her life a mess still, or was it turning a corner? She wriggled deeper into the cushions. She felt the settee move as he leaned back on the arm and she knew he was looking at her. She closed her eyes tighter. She had so messed this up.

  ‘Megan. Listen to me. I’m older than you. I sometimes think I’ve seen it all. Nothing’s perfect. Nothing’s forever. Looking for a happy ever after is the best way never to find it. I think the happiest people are those who take things a step at a time. Shall we?’

  ‘Shall we w
hat?’ Oh, God, now she sounded like Kyle.

  ‘Take things a step at a time. Let’s start from the point where I’m definitely not gay and you’re not a heartless cow and go from there. Hmm?’

  She smiled in spite of herself.

  ‘Can we add one more thing?’

  ‘Okay.’ It was almost a question.

  ‘Can we say that I am a hungry definitely not gay person and you are a hungry not heartless cow and order some bloody food before I die of starvation?’

  She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and sat up, tucking her legs beneath her. ‘Right,’ she said, with a final sniff. ‘Not Mongolian, though.’

  ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I think one helping of yak is ample for one lifetime. Shall we do Chinese?’

  ‘Let’s. And, Will …’

  ‘Yup?’ He was already scrolling down the menu on his tablet, ready to order before she changed her mind.

  ‘Will you help me find Chris? Put things right?’

  ‘If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do. Shouldn’t be hard. We’ll go round the family, friends, at the weekend. Yes? Better face to face than phone, don’t you think? I won't come in; I’ll just be chauffeur.’

  She reached out and pinched him on the arm.

  ‘Ow.’ He frowned. ‘What was that for?’

  She smiled and rubbed the place. ‘Just checking,’ she said. ‘Just checking.

  The End of the Affair

  *

  Chris sat across from his sister and looked at her in the soft light of the lamps. Her home may be closed to more or less everyone, but she had made it nice. It was calm and cosy, cluttered without being untidy; the home of a woman at ease in her skin. As she looked back at him, a smile playing on her lips, she did remind him very much of Cassie. He reminded himself to see if he could find her somehow; he missed her, now he understood what she was trying to do for him.

  ‘So,’ Claire said, suddenly. ‘You don’t think she’ll have you back, then?’

  ‘I never really thought it was an option,’ he said. ‘I was lucky she let me stay after … well, after that first thing, in the house I was showing. I don’t know why she did.’ He didn’t tell her about the man he had seen her with. Perhaps he had misunderstood the whole situation and best said, soonest mended.