Phil stood in the doorway, staring at him.
“What?’ Raig asked quizzically. “What’s wrong? I’m zipped and tucked. I need to clean my teeth, have a shower, but as you won’t be that close to me, you can cope.”
Phil shook his head, his expression bemused. “Are you all right? For someone who was in a dog’s mood not ten hours ago, you look awfully happy. Wet dreams?”
“No, you tosser. I slept the sleep of the righteous. Well, newly trying to be righteous at least. I cocked up good and proper, no one but me can un-cock up. Or try to at least. Therefore, I can say with certainty, today is the first day of the rest of my reformed life.”
“Uh?”
“I’m a changed man. I’m going to be open and honest and woo Vairi that way.”
Phil laughed. “Good luck, mate. I reckon you’ll have an uphill struggle. Exactly what does she know?”
He pondered on that for a moment. “She knows my name. My real name. My age. That I own the fair and I’m a Sir. I try to help charities. She assumes I’m an investment banker or something. That’s about it, I think.”
“Not much then.” Phil took the cup proffered.
He didn’t know a lot more, and if anything, Raig guessed he probably imagined Raig was only a very part time investment banker and worked as a civil servant and had taken the official secrets act or something.
“Ta.” Phil took a sip and grimaced. “Fuck, Raig, no sugar. At eight on a Monday. Come on.”
Raig proffered the sugar bowl. Phil is right, he decided as he watched the other man add four sugars to his coffee and shuddered at the idea of that sickly sweet taste. He really hadn’t told Vairi much. But when had there been time?
“Ye gods, Phil, your heart must be groaning when it discovers how much crap you eat and drink.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Phil told him. “Worry about your heart, not mine.”
Just what he intended to do.
“Well then.” Phil eyed him edgily. “Are you still finishing your week with us? Or does this mean you’ll disappear into your other lives—and no, I don’t want the details. Don’t know, can’t show or sommat—before then?”
Raig shook his head. “I honor my obligations, you sod, you know that.”
Phil still looked uncomfortable.
“What? What have I said?” He thought back. “Oh fuck, that came out wrong. I need my time here, Phil. Keeps me sane. Not as an obligation, or to check up on you, shit, you know twice as much as me. No, because for these few weeks I’m just Raig, nothing and no one else.”
Phil’s face softened. “I’m sorry. I’m being shitty. For fuck’s sake, Raig, how the hell did you fuck up so spectacularly? One minute you look like you’ve got the Holy Grail, the next as if someone’s cleared out your bank account and pinched your chocolate. You who are usually so on top of things.”
“I was on top… Oh fuck… No kiss and tell. Erm.” He knew his face was red. Phil was roaring with laughter. Reluctantly he joined in.
“Oh bollocks, I needed that.” He wiped his eyes. “If I’m honest, Phil? I’m shit scared. I really have messed up. But, and bear with me here, this is not easy to say, being a so-called macho man and all that, I took one look at Vairi and the caveman took over. Mine, all mine. Sod our ages, sod any baggage, mine. There was enough against me without adding to it. So I kept shtum with regards to quite a lot.”
“Yeah, and to be fair, so did she.” Phil’s voice was even. “Silence isn’t always golden, sometimes it’s tarnished and dross.”
He was quick to jump to Vairi’s defense. “Not tight-lipped like me. Okay, I know you don’t want all the ins and out of the rest of my life, but some of it is, well, to put it finely, a recipe for a knife in my ribs.”
Phil blinked and Raig realized his choice of words could easily be misinterpreted.
“Okay, bastard, you know what I mean. She didn’t mention she DJs, but I knew her age, knew she was a commitment-phobe, because she told me. As you said, what did I tell her? Sod all. Well, that’s going to change. Everything out in the open and hope to hell she accepts me for what I am. If not?” He shrugged. “Buggered if I know.”
He turned away from his friend, not wanting to see the sympathy there. Time to suck it up and get on with it.
“What needs doing?” he asked briskly as he put his phone in his pocket after he’d surreptitiously checked his emails. Nothing. Not that he had expected there to be yet. He ignored the pitying look Phil was giving him. “So?” he prompted. “Anything I need to do? To know? Or do I go back to bed?”
He didn’t get there. Nor did he get answers to all his questions. What he did get was an aching back from helping to repair a dodgem and relocate a fruit machine, a headache from banging his skull off said fruit machine, and a heavy heart when his text to Denny asking Is she still pissed? came back with a simple Oh yes.
Ah well, hopefully later would be better.
It wasn’t. The only glimmer of hope was an email saying,
Okay, we’ll discuss it when I see you next.
Better than a straightforward no, he supposed. Meanwhile, he helped out on rides and stalls, fended off a very drunk twenty-something pneumatic blonde who wanted to ‘see what it’s like with a bit of rough’, and broke up a fight between two alcohol-fueled teenagers who both intended to take the same girl on the waltzer. All on a usually quiet Monday night. He wondered if it was something in the water and said as much to Jonny, who smirked and replied, “Vodka.”
That gave him his first laugh for a while. He wiped bright red lipstick off one cheek and rubbed the other, where he was fairly sure he’d have a bruise before long. One of the vodka boys had got in a hefty punch before he’d quieted him down.
He sat in his trailer, a beer in his hand, with Phil and Jonny sitting opposite, both cuddling their own bottles, and pondered. Was he doing the right thing? It would mean his life was going to dramatically change, no going back. Was it worth it? Hell yes, no doubts there. Was it going to be easy? Definitely not. In all probability it more likely would cause trouble and repercussions. Then, he was a great believer nothing of any worth was easily gained.
“Earth to Raig. What’re you thinking? Hello, we’re here.”
Oh shit. “Sorry, miles away. Big things on my mind.”
Jonny sniggered. “What a thing to say about Vairi, she’s only a little thing. Not a big one.”
Phil laughed.
Raig managed not to scowl, not to snap, and to keep a bland look on his face by the skin of his teeth.
“Fu-nny,” he replied. “Like your face the way it is, do you?”
“Oh, he’s got it bad.” Jonny looked at Phil, who said nothing, and back to Raig, who knew his poker face was rapidly dissolving into one with more unpleasant emotions showing.
“Fuck, Raig, sorry,” Jonny said contritely. “Pretty please leave my baby face the way it is.”
Raig smiled, shamefaced, and nodded. “I know I’m like a kid who’s had his computer game smashed, but I’m a bit jittery at the moment.” That was the understatement of the century.
“Well, I could say take yourself in hand like a lot of us have to, but don’t suppose that’s what you want to hear, is it?” Jonny winked. “Not really,” he added with a grin.
Raig laughed in spite of himself and shook his head. Hadn’t he been thinking he might have to do that very thing?
It wasn’t much later before Phil and Jonny left to go to their own trailers. During the days the fair was open, no one was up that long after they had shut down for the night. There was always the knowledge of the work that needed done early the following morning. He checked emails and texts and made sure his plans were taking shape as he wanted and there didn’t seem to be any problems before he flopped wearily into bed.
He dreamed. Vairi sat cross-legged on the bed next to him. Her hair curled around her shoulders and down her back and a long, thin, floaty, multicolored dress covered her from neck to ankles. Her eyes were lacklust
er and tired, her face sad. ‘See what you’ve done to me? Made me feel like this? You’ve destroyed my faith, Raig. I liked you, I really liked you. More than I thought possible. The way we could laugh, the way you made me feel when you touched me. I felt special. I even forgot the age difference. I really thought I might just change my mind about love. No need now, I know I was right.’
‘No!’ Raig shouted as she got off the bed and walked out. ‘No, you’re wrong. No. No, please stay…stay… Noooooo.’
He woke up sweating with the word ‘no’ echoing in his ears and looked at the clock. Half past five. There wasn’t a cat in hell’s chance he’d get back to sleep now. With a sigh he felt from his head to his toes, Raig decided he might as well get up and go for a run.
An hour later he freely cursed himself. What the hell was he up to? His feet knew exactly where they wanted to go, and like a lovesick fool, he’d let them. To find himself running past Vairi’s house and knowing he couldn’t stop, open the door, go in and see her was bad enough. But hell, to run past and see a car, not hers, Lorna’s or Denny’s, was excruciating.
Glutton for punishment, masochist, or both? It served him right, he had no one to blame but himself. The run back seemed to take twice as long and his breath was labored by the time he turned into the site. Unfit? Not really, just uncomfortable with himself. And unhappy. Whose car was at Vairi’s? Had they stopped the night? Were they male or female and what relationship did they have with her? None of it his business, all of it eating away at his gut.
A text to Denny—
See anything of Vairi yesterday?
Brought the unsatisfactory answer—
Nah, she was busy last night.
Luckily, he was saved from making a total fool of himself and returning to her house to bang on the door and demand what she was up to, by an email. One that he hurried to answer, and put him in a better frame of mind. It meant he had to give an explanation of sorts to Phil—and intimate he needed to spend the following day taking care of non-fair business. He didn’t explain what that business was, and Phil didn’t ask. He knew parts of Raig’s life and that certain actions and disappearances were not explained until well after the event and sometimes not very satisfactorily, either.
“Going to listen to Midweek Midnight?” Jonny asked him, trying to disguise his interest.
But not very well, Raig thought.
“Pass some time before shut-eye.”
“Probably not, too much to do tomorrow. I’d better try and get some sleep.” Raig hoped he sounded disinterested. “I’ll be back by the time we open, or just after.” They were walking back to their trailers after everything had been closed up and had left Phil playing darts with a few of the other men. Raig rubbed his cheek, which, as he’d suspected, did indeed sport a bruise. That was going to go down well. He sighed. Jonny looked at him curiously.
“Second thoughts?” Only Jonny and his parents knew the bulk of his life. Only Jonny knew what he was going to do with the major part of it, after he had cornered him and demanded to know what the hell was going on. Raig admitted to himself that he’d felt a lot happier after he had confided in Jonny, who had agreed he was doing the right thing.
“No,” he said now. “Even if it makes no difference to me and Vairi, it’s time. Time to move on, either with her, or not. But fuck, Joh, I hope it’s with her.”
He rocked in his heels as Jonny thumped him none too gently on the shoulder. He grimaced as Jonny laughed and went to move across the grass toward his own trailer. “Listen to the show, Raig,” he was advised. “The trailers say it’s all about lies and infidelity.” With a wave over his shoulder, Jonny left him.
Raig was worried as he unlocked his door. Lies and infidelity. Surely both couldn’t be laid at his door? Or was he bumming himself up thinking that nothing involved him and he didn’t rate any thought? Strangely, that didn’t appeal either. Okay. Then he’d listen. He would not admit that nothing could have stopped him.
Checking the time—a quarter to midnight—Raig contemplated the second hand as it swept the face of the clock and decided there was time for a swift shower and something to eat. He put a curry in the microwave before he had the shortest shower known to him.
The microwave bleeped as he re-entered the kitchen and turned the radio and laptop on. No way would he listen and not comment. He had his plot ready. Stage One—Vairi. Retaliation if necessary, wooing if not. He grabbed his curry, put the plate on a tray and settled comfortably on the settee wearing unsnapped jeans and nothing else. Somehow though, when Midweek Midnight was announced, he felt unaccountably worried.
The theme music faded and his cock reacted to Vairi’s voice. Pitiful, Raig, reacting to a voice, for God’s sake. But there it was, visible for him to see. A positive reaction. He sat, resigned, ready, no, not ready, but in a fatalistic mood to listen to himself being crucified. As the music faded, he became aware he was leaning forward, waiting to hear what she said.
“Midnight people, welcome.” The voice was mellifluous and as ever Raig’s cock, already hard, responded to the tone and hit his jeans as it demanded release. Ah, fuck, down boy. For now, listen and learn.
“So, people, lots to discuss tonight. But first, I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor.”
Oh shit, shit and double shit. It was going to be nasty, he just knew it.
The music faded, and that beloved voice spoke again.
“Now, midnight people, what are your thoughts on lies and infidelity? Any excuses for either? Let me know? You have the address. Email your thoughts. While you do, let’s listen to Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word by Elton John. You know, for most of the assholes in this world that is oh-so-very true.”
Yup, she’d got that spot-on all right. How the hell was he going to address that? Man up and go for it. He wrote an email rapidly, checked the spelling—he’d be damned if he’d get mocked for that as well as everything else—considered it, decided it would do and pressed send. Then, nerves in a knot, Raig waited.
He was not disappointed. The song faded and Vairi’s voice replaced it.
“Well, peeps, comments already. Raig says sometimes it happens. Hello, Raig. Why? Lies are so not acceptable, you tell me why you think they are. Micky D says what is infidelity. Okay, folks, let me tell you. It is when someone lies. Does not tell the truth. For me it is not cheating with sex. It is cheating with the truth. What do you say? How should you answer? Let us know.”
Oh, he would.
Ninety minutes and several emails later, he was angry. Angry and frustrated. After those first two emails and replies, his comments were ignored apart from a brief, “Lots of comments from the same person tonight. Guilty conscience, do we think?”
Well, yes, of course it was. He knew that. She knew that. Fuck, by now several thousand listeners knew that. His next email did get read out.
“Now, midnight people. What have we here? A groveling email.” He could hear the glee in her voice. “One I must share with you. It’s not often we get something like this. First let’s have some appropriate music. I was trying to find something with ‘yes, I am a prick’ in it, but hey ho, neither Stevie, Andie nor I could manage that. So we’ve come up with David Gray.” The words from his song Babylon, which presumably explained what she meant, came out of the speaker.
Raig grinned. Did she understand he knew he might be acting strangely and wanted her to forgive him? Firstly, though, he was going to have his heart laid bare over the airwaves.
The music faded. “So, folks, here’s the email I was talking about. Unusually, I’m not going to give you this person’s name. The email wasn’t sent in anonymously, but we feel this person deserves not to be totally lambasted. Well, Stevie does anyway. I’m not so sure.”
Not forgiven then.
“I’m going to call this person ‘he’, but it may be a man or a woman. We’re not saying. Here goes.” He could imagine her take a deep breath. In effect she was showing everyone how he felt about her.
�
�Carry C, I’ve cocked up big time. I’ve met someone who I fell for, deeply and truly. This person is all I ever want, they make my life complete.” She broke off and cleared her throat. “We’re paraphrasing a bit here, peeps. Bear with us. Where was I? Ah, yes, this person makes my life complete. The problem is I didn’t mention something about me and my life. Well, more than one something actually. To me, part of what I didn’t say doesn’t seem important. To this person, it meant I was lying by omission. And I was, wasn’t I? Even if I didn’t realize it. She—remember it could really be he—won’t speak to me. I think she won’t anyway. I have her mobile number but don’t think I should phone. Not yet. To be honest, I’m scared to in case she either doesn’t answer or cuts the call. She’s been lied to big-time before and won’t stand for it. Neither should she. I was wrong, and I admit it. Although, she wasn’t totally snow white in all this and didn’t mention her job to me. That I found out, by default. Please, Carry C, if she hears this, tell her I love her. I’m so sorry I was an idiot. Can you ask her to give me another chance? The only thing is, I do have another part of my life I can’t discuss yet. I’m not married, I’m not a spy or a criminal, and I’m not insolvent, but somethings can’t be shared until I’m allowed to. Oh god, that sounds overdramatic, but it’s true. Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” Vairi said huskily. “Hmm, now let me get this finished. So this person goes on to say, ‘Hopefully very soon, I’ll be able to tell her everything about me. Share all of me with all of her. I believe in fidelity, truth and honesty. I’ll give her all of that and more if she’ll let me. Do you think I have a chance?’”
Chapter Ten
There was silence from the radio. Raig held his breath as he waited for Vairi to comment again.
“Well, peeps, what can I say?” She sounded breathless. “What an admission. What do I say to that? Here’s Cliff Richard and Miss You Nights.”
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