by Chris Binchy
I didn’t mind. It was better, I thought. It seemed like the kind of thing I should be doing. He went off and called her and then rang back to say they’d meet at my place at half past two.
I was waiting on the steps of my building when she pulled up outside in her car. I stood up when she arrived, but she sounded the horn anyway.
“What are you beeping for?” I asked when I opened the door.
“Saying hello,” she said. “What’s in the bag?”
“Nice things.”
“How long are we going for?”
“What? Is it too much?” She laughed at me.
“It looks like an awful lot.”
I stood there in the open door not knowing what to do, whether to bring some of it back up, but in the end I just threw it all onto the back seat.
“I like to be prepared,” I said. “I don’t understand what’s so attractive about spontaneity, not having enough or not being able to open things or sitting on damp. What’s so great about that? We are ready.”
“What for?”
“For everything,” I said. “Where’s Alex?”
“Alex is going to meet us there,” she said. “He got delayed.” I noticed how she put a distance between herself and his words.
“Okay,” I said. “What’s he going to do, ring us when he gets up there?”
“Yeah.” She didn’t seem happy.
“That’s all right, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Oh, I know. It’s fine.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“Is there a problem?”
“It’s not the first time he’s done this.”
“Yeah, but you know what he’s like.”
“I do,” she said. “I know.”
We drove across town, past people everywhere, sitting outside in front of pubs and cafés, everybody talking louder than usual, their body language exaggerated. As we drove in her car with the windows open, going to a park to lie around all afternoon, drinking and eating, I could plug into that mood.
I told her where to park and then led her down into a little valley and then up the side of a wood and across a field to a group of trees in bloom, explosions of white blossom above long grass. There was no one else there. I put a rug down and took out two beers, holding one out to her.
“Will you?”
“I can have one. Right?”
“One’s not a problem.”
She took it and lay down on her stomach, her legs crossed over each other bent up behind her. She was wearing a skirt that was short enough. I took out the food and started getting it together.
“You went to a lot of trouble,” she said.
“It’s nothing really,” I said. I tried to think of some joke to make at my own expense but couldn’t. I gave her a napkin and a plate. I was sitting facing the same direction as she was, looking at the trees.
“Hawthorn,” I said, pointing.
“Very nice.”
“You don’t normally notice them. They’re just boring, in hedgerows and that, but when they flower it changes the way the whole country looks. Color everywhere. You can see it from planes. The whole countryside white.”
“Wow,” she said. “You know a lot about hawthorn.”
“I’m trying to impress you,” I said, and she smiled. I drank from the beer. The day was hot.
“This is very good,” she said.
“Thanks. Do you want another one of these?” I asked her.
“I’m okay,” she said. “This is still full.”
“I’m drinking too quick.”
“Nice day for it,” she said.
“It is.”
She asked me something about work, and I told her something, just talking, saying anything. I was wondering when Alex was going to arrive and get me out of this.
But what was wrong with me? The two of us lay there with the smell of grass and trees and earth, drinking beer. She was beside me, happy enough, and the only thing that was making it difficult was my inability to accept it. My life could be like this. It was like this. Let Alex come when he wanted. I was okay. I could feel the tightness across my forehead as the beer began to take effect in the warmth of the day, and I knew that a wave of goodwill would be following shortly. I lay back and stared up at the sky for a few minutes. My head was parallel with her legs and when I turned my head to see where she was, I realized I was looking straight up her skirt. It wasn’t deliberate, I hadn’t tried to get myself in this position. Even by accident it didn’t seem fair, though. I laughed at myself, at my private moment of doubt, the things that I would nearly do. Huge white clouds were inching across the sky, connected by the fat fading lines of plane trails.
“What’s funny?” she said.
“This is just great,” I said.
“It’s nice. It was a good idea to come.”
“I have very good ideas.”
“Are you getting drunk already?”
“I’ve got a bit of a buzz,” I said. “It’s the sun.”
“And an empty stomach.”
“Have you forgotten the lunch I gave you? Already?”
“You didn’t eat much of it. You gave most of it to me.”
“I’m happy you noticed.”
“I noticed.”
I lay there feeling warm. If everything had stayed like this forever, it would have been enough for me.
“So why didn’t you want to meet up with Fiona?” she said then out of nowhere. I burst out laughing. The cheek of her, taking advantage of my happiness, of the day that we were having.
“Jesus Christ,” I said. “Can we not just relax?”
“I am relaxed,” she said. “I’m just asking you. What was the problem?”
I sighed.
“There was no problem.”
“Did you not like her?”
“No. That wasn’t it at all. Why would you think that?”
“Because you didn’t want to go out that night with us.”
“That doesn’t mean that I didn’t like her.”
“It’s one possibility. It’s not a problem, David. You don’t have to like everybody.”
“I know that. But I don’t dislike Fiona.”
“You’re not interested in her, though. You don’t fancy her.”
“I don’t know, Jesus.” I leaned over and took another beer out of the bag. “You’re something else,” I said. “What makes you think you can ask me about this? Am I not allowed to have a bit of mystery in my life? You can’t expect me to tell you everything.” I could talk to her like this with drink. It might change things. I was aware of that as I spoke.
“I just thought, you know. How often do we get to talk on our own? How many times without Alex around the place making up our little triangle? When is it just you and me?” She was looking at me, an expression on her face that I couldn’t read. I wanted to say something sharp back to her, but her using the word triangle had thrown me. I didn’t react.
“Just you and me? Never,” I said. “Or hardly ever.”
“So then? Tell me.”
“What?”
“Why didn’t you want to meet her again?”
I shook my head.
“She’s very nice. You know that.”
“Sure,” she said.
“And I had a good time with her that night we met up, that second time. I liked her, really I did.”
“Okay. But?”
I didn’t know what to say. I sat looking at her and then eventually spoke.
“I’m kind of interested in someone else.”
“Are you?” she said. She sat up and looked at me with interest. “Are you really? Alex doesn’t know about this.”
; “I don’t tell him everything.”
“So who is she? What’s her name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, if you don’t, who does?”
“Sorry?” I was confused, trying to regroup. Trying to think what I could say and what I shouldn’t. Hoping that my lies wouldn’t trip me up. “I didn’t mean to tell you this,” I said to her then.
“Why not? Who is she?”
“You don’t know her. She’s a girl in work.”
“And why didn’t you tell us?” she asked me.
“Because it’s nothing. There’s nothing to tell.”
“There obviously is. Look at you.” She reached over and ran her hand across my face. It didn’t seem like something she should be doing.
“She’s with somebody else, and nothing’s going to come of it,” I said.
“Do you love her?”
“Yes,” I said. Given that I’d chosen to head down this road, why not?
“And has she been with this other guy for long?”
“Not really.”
“Could you tell her?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t. Because I don’t know if she’s interested in me at all, and it could mess everything up.”
“But if you love her . . .”
“If I love her what?”
“You should say. Be honest.”
“No,” I said. “You’re wrong. That’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t. There’s too much involved, and she’s with somebody else, and that’s all there is to it. I’m telling you. It’s not the right thing to do.”
“Does anybody know about this?”
“You do.”
She was looking at me now.
“You’re a dark horse,” she said.
“Yeah,” I said. “Full of secrets.” As I stared at her and she looked away, I thought in that moment that she knew. Just something in the way she turned in on herself and said nothing. I lay back and listened to my heart thump in my ears.
“Other people and their complications,” I said after a minute. “Who needs them?”
“We all do,” she said.
Lying here. Lying. All the time. The truth was something that could devastate my world, make it all fall apart, end my oldest friendship, drive her away from me, leave me with nothing. What would she do if I sat up now and told her? If I stopped staring up into the sky, broke free from everything that terrified me, and came out with it all? One sentence. It didn’t need to be complicated. I love you. That would be all. What would happen? I sat up, felt the head rush, and leaned forward on my knees. She was faced away from me. I felt the words come as far as my throat, rising like something that was going to come out, but then I stopped them. Say something, I thought. Just see if anything will come. She looked at me now and smiled.
“Are you all right?” she said, and it seemed like the easiest thing to reach out and touch her. Hold her hand and say nothing, forget about the words that had never worked for me anyway. Easier to say nothing, easier to do. She was right there, inches away from me, and I could do it. I knew in that instant that if I did, it would go my way. I would hold her hand and she would look at me and I would lean over and the two of us would kiss here in the middle of nowhere in a space that would belong to us forever, with the grass and the blossom on the hawthorn and the bees buzzing and the birds singing and the happy exotic people in the planes miles above us looking down and seeing it all. Seeing us. It was there to be done. I looked at her, and she knew it too. I could tell.
“What is it?” she said.
“Hello,” I said.
“I don’t think Alex is coming.”
“Maybe not.”
“Should I give him a ring?” This was going to be it. It was going to be a choice made by me. I could say no. No, don’t call him. We don’t need him. It’s not about him. Everything is here. I could have said any of this, anything would have done. She was waiting for me, the two of us staring at each other. I thought of him. What would he do in this situation? I thought I knew, but still I couldn’t do it.
“Call him,” I said. “See what’s happened.”
She looked at me for a second.
“I should really, shouldn’t I?” Was she trying to punish me, or did she even know?
“Ring him,” I said, standing up. “We can meet him in town if he’s still there.” She got her phone out and made the call as I started packing up.
“Hi,” she said. “Where are you? Okay. We’ll come in and meet you. See you soon. Bye.”
“He’s still there?”
“Yeah.”
“They always go on longer than they’re supposed to,” I said.
“You’d think he’d consider that,” she said, “before he starts making arrangements. He’s done this to me before.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t know.”
We walked back across the fields in silence. We didn’t talk when we were loading up the car or on the way back into town. She parked on a square near where he was working. We walked along until we saw the vans and the roadblocks, all the people standing around.
“All this for a twenty-second ad,” she said, and I nodded, not looking at her. We walked to where the lights were on and saw him, standing in a group of people looking into a monitor. She went up behind him and touched him on the shoulder.
“Hello,” he said. “You’re here.”
“Are you nearly finished?” she asked.
“Yeah. Pretty much. I’m really sorry. I just couldn’t get away. What’s the plan?”
She looked at me. I should have done what I wanted when I had the chance. It was gone now. Next time. Next time. I shrugged, and she smiled at me, a sad little pout.
“Well, I need to eat,” he said. “I haven’t eaten all day.”
“I thought they had food at these things,” I said. I didn’t know that I thought it until I said it.
“No,” he said. “The caterers never showed.” She laughed at nothing, took a step closer to him, relaxing now that they were back together. If she had felt something, any little guilty frisson, it was over. She was back where she was always meant to be, and everything that had gone before was disappearing fast.
“So will we do that? Get something to eat and then go for a drink or something? Somewhere outside?” The two of them were looking at me.
“No,” I said. “I’m going to go.”
“Where?”
“Home. I’ve had enough outside for today. Ask her.” I could hear myself. I sounded rude. Too bitter.
“It was great,” she said. “We were in this place in the park. Do you know it?”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. David found it.”
“He’s never taken me,” Alex said. “Why is that?”
I had to say something.
“I don’t know. Maybe next time. Anyway. Have a good night. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“You’re sure? You’re going to go?”
“Yeah. I’ll give you a call during the week.” I was moving away from them when she came over to me and hugged me. I could smell her, feel the warmth of the day’s sun coming out of her bones. She kissed me quickly.
“Thank you,” she said. “I had a great time.”
“It was nice.”
“It was.” She was holding my hand. I could feel him looking at the two of us and tried to imagine his expression. I wondered whether he had more of an idea of what was going on than I did. I broke away from her, gave him a little wave, and walked off without looking back at the two of them together, the bag of rubbish and empty bottles clinking against my leg. How could I ha
ve believed, I wondered then, that the day would end any other way?
Chapter Eleven
Alex rang me at nine o’clock on a Saturday night. I was on the couch asleep in front of the TV, going nowhere. I hadn’t seen him in a while, he’d been picking up work on shoots around town. I thought he’d want to chat, but he was all business.
“What are you doing now?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Right,” he said. “Here, do you want to go bowling?”
I laughed.
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Because Camille’s got a friend in town, and that’s what she fucking well wants to do. There’s four half-drunk girls and me going bowling.”
“I don’t think so. It’s not really my thing.”
“Jesus. It’s not my thing either. I was supposed to be meeting people in town, and now she’s landed this on me. I don’t have a choice.”
“Yes, but I do. And I really don’t want to go.”
“Oh, come on. Do me a favor.”
I waited for a second, trying to judge it.
“You’re not trying to set me up or anything?”
“No. Though I’ll tell you, they’ve been drinking since five. They’re all happy and giggling. A lot of guys would see this as an opportunity.”
“So why don’t you ring one of them?”
He sighed.
“Because they’re all busy on a Saturday night.”
“And then you thought of me?”
“Please. I’ll pick you up. I’ll pay for you.”
“Okay. When will you be here?”
“I’m outside,” he said. “We better get moving.”
We went back and got Camille and her friends from her house. They were getting stuck into a mix of vodka and rum and juice that didn’t look clever. They were a wall of noise, all shouting to be heard and laughing and filling each other in. We got into the car and drove out the motorway to a bowling alley. I was in the back with some girl I didn’t know on my lap. Once I realized that I had no role to play in the evening, I relaxed. I didn’t mind just going with it and letting it all wash over me. Alex was getting edgier. He drove, and nobody listened when he asked for directions. They didn’t hear him, and I couldn’t help laughing. His job was delivery. Facilitating these girls on a night that was all about them. It didn’t suit him.