Beat the Rain

by Nigel Jay Cooper

  What would it be like to actually touch him? To run her hands over his chest, to stroke the back of his neck? In the café, whenever he pays for his coffee or sandwich, she tries to take the opportunity to brush lightly against his skin when she gives him his change. It makes her tingle all day long and she finds herself caressing her own fingers where they touched him, as if this makes her closer to him somehow.

  She’s not obsessed. This is real, she knows it is. She hasn’t felt anything like it before, not with Tom, not with Adam. The voyeuristic nature of their relationship only adds to the excitement of it all. They have a private arrangement that nobody else could ever understand.

  * * *

  The bell above the door tinkles, jolting Louise from her thoughts. She hasn’t had a customer for about half an hour and as she glances up, she gasps slightly. It’s him.

  “Hey, Louise.” He smiles, followed by, “You okay?”

  He’s noticed her gasp, he’s noticed that she can barely breathe when she’s around him.

  “Jarvis, hi,” she says, nonchalance itself. If it wouldn’t seem weird, she’d skip across the room to show how nonchalant and happy and carefree she is.

  “Good good,” he says. “Such a lovely day, makes you want go to the pub, doesn’t it. But I’ll make do with a latte, please.”

  “Semi-skimmed?”

  “Yeah,” he says, smiling at her again. Oh, that smile.

  “Anything else?” She thinks she’s blushing. Christ, she’s a grown woman.

  “No, thanks.”

  Louise stops short of continuing with a conversational piece, something like ‘How was the Metro emergency?’ or ‘Did you fuck Sandra with the big bouncing tits then?’ Instead, she says, “I’ll bring it over,” waving him towards the empty tables so he doesn’t see her reddening cheeks.

  As she makes his coffee, she thinks back to that first day.

  “I’m Louise,” she’d said as she served him his coffee.

  “Jarvis.” That smile again, always the smile. “Nice to meet you properly, I was in earlier, you probably don’t remember, what with the attack.”

  “Of course I remember,” Louise had replied, a little too quickly. A little too girlishly.

  That was weeks ago, they’ve had loads of chats since then. Loads of flirtations.

  “Looks quiet,” he says as she places his latte in front of him. “Fancy joining me?”

  Louise smiles and pulls a chair out, sitting down next to Jarvis, feeling…relaxed. Like she’s with someone she can talk to, about anything she likes. It’s been so long since she’s felt that. Marriage is all about duties and the everyday – sometimes it feels like everything she does is burdened with baggage and expectation so she can’t even speak anymore without it having twenty deeper meanings. But sometimes there isn’t anything deeper going on. Sometimes, she wants to relax into a comfortable silence.

  A few minutes later, the clock ticking on the wall: “Have you just moved here? To Brighton, I mean?” Louise asks.

  “Yeah, saw the garage opposite for sale and thought why not?”

  “What made you choose Brighton?”

  “Seemed as good a place as any,” he says, licking his index finger and sticking it in the air, “but so far, I like it.”

  They sit comfortably, not talking but not feeling the need to either. It’s the most relaxing and wonderful and ordinary feeling Louise has had in ages. When she and Adam sit together there’s a massive weight of expectation and baggage and…things to sort out, shopping to do, washing to hang, bills to pay. But with Jarvis, it’s…comfortable. Louise is so happy, she feels like her heart might burst in her chest, all warm and gooey and deadly. Soon, the damage will soak through her white blouse and her cover will be blown, he’ll know she’d do anything for him. To him.

  Eventually: “My middle name is Tiberius,” Jarvis says.

  “Ha,” snorts Louise, a genuine laugh. “Like Captain Kirk. Christ, your parents must have hated you.”

  “Nah, they love Star Trek, at least my dad does.”

  Gentle silence again, then: “I don’t have one myself,” Louise says. “A middle name, I mean. I’m just plain old Louise Gaddis.”

  Jarvis looks into her eyes and for a second Louise feels like a teenager again, like she did that first moment in the newsagents with Tom. She’s missed this feeling, this excitement. The unknown, the beginning of something.

  “I doubt there’s anything plain about you, Louise,” Jarvis says perfectly. For a moment Louise waits for the clarification that undermines the compliment, for the rug to be pulled from under her. A moment more silence and she realises Jarvis has finished speaking.

  “Thank you,” she says quietly. Jarvis nods and looks back down at his mug. Louise would give anything in the world for Jarvis to lean over and put his hand on her thigh and move it gently upwards so he could feel how hot she is right now and how much she wants to feel his fingers exploring her, inside her, probing, gently, firmly, deeply. But the café door tinkles again, an irritation beyond her wildest imaginings, made even worse by the fact that it’s Adam walking in. He’s wearing jeans and a short-sleeve shirt and he’s skinny again, too skinny. Not that he ever gets fat, but sometimes he looks too thin – she’s often envied him for it, his ability to not put on weight, his ability to not worry about it. But next to Jarvis, who clearly works out, Adam looks scrawny, less manly.

  “Hey.” He smiles, raising a hand. Jarvis glances back over his shoulder, then stands up, pointing towards the toilet as he walks away without speaking. Adam comes over, leans down and kisses her on the cheek – a brother’s peck, not that of a lover, not like the kiss Jarvis would give her.

  “Who’s that?” Adam asks breezily.

  “The guy who bought the garage across the road – you remember, Alan sold it after his wife got that nursing job up north?”

  “Oh yeah,” Adam says. “What’s he like, nice guy?”

  “Yeah, nice.”

  “Oh right,” Adam says, checking his phone for the time. “Just thought I’d pop in, see if you fancied knocking off early. I’ve got us a babysitter, one of the girls from the nursery. Thought we could go for a beer?” He moves behind Louise and crouches, putting his arms around her waist. “Come on, how long since we got pissed and enjoyed ourselves.” He wiggles his hips suggestively, but it’s slightly awkward with her still sitting in her chair. “No chat about bills or work or the kids, let’s have a laugh and see where the night takes us.”

  “Do you think he’s all right in there?” Louise says, shirking him off and staring at the toilet door.

  “Who?” Adam says.

  “The new mechanic – Jarvis. He’s in the loo.”

  “He’s only just gone in there,” Adam says, clearly perplexed. Louise walks over to the toilet and taps lightly on the door.

  “Are you okay in there?” Silence. “Jarvis, are you okay?” Louise calls again.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Louise perseveres. “We’re going to the pub if you fancy it?”

  “What?” Adam whispers. “I meant us, Louise. Some quality time, you and me?”

  Louise waves him off without looking back at him. “He’s just moved here, Adam. It’ll be nice for him to get out and make new friends. It’ll be nice.” She fingers the rings of bone between her neck and breasts, glancing at Adam almost nervously. “Go in and see if he’s all right, will you.”

  “Louise, let the man take a piss, for Christ’s sake,” Adam starts, but Louise glares at him in the manner of a woman who won’t be denied.

  “For fuck sake,” Adam says, shaking his head and going into the toilets after him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Adam sees the man standing clutching either side of the sink, head bowed, hair hanging over his eyes so Adam can’t make out his face or reflection.

  “You okay, mate?” he asks, walking over to the sink next to the guy and – for want of something else to do – washing his hands.
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  “Yeah, yeah, am good, thanks.” The guy lifts his head and grabs a paper towel from the dispenser to dry his face off.

  “It’s Jarvis, right? I’m Adam, Louise’s husband.”

  “Oh right, yeah.” Jarvis smiles and extends a hand. “Good to meet you.”

  “Fancy a pint then?” Adam asks. “I mean, don’t feel you have to, sometimes Louise gets all carried away and…”

  “No, a pint would be nice, thanks.”

  “Great,” Adam says, drying his hands on a paper towel and patting Jarvis on the back. “You sure you’re all right? You look a bit pale?”

  “Yeah, honestly,” says Jarvis. “I felt a little bit sick for a minute, but I’m good.”

  “Okay.” Adam grins. “As long as it wasn’t the wife’s coffee.”

  Adam leaves the toilet and sits back down at one of Louise’s tables while Louise tidies up and readies to close. He fingers the teaspoon in front of him and stares down at the tablecloth, feeling nervous. He glances up at Louise, wishing for a moment it could be like the old days, that he’ll catch her glancing at him, sneaking a peek like she used to, slightly coy, blushing, like she’s been caught checking him out. But Louise isn’t even looking at him, she’s so intent on cleaning and wiping, he’s not sure she even remembers he’s in the café.

  “Is he okay?” Louise asks, taking her pinny off.

  “Yeah, he’s fine,” Adam says, “why wouldn’t he be?”

  “All right, I was just asking…”

  “You’re being weird, what’s up?” He’s a bit irritated, so his tone isn’t one that will elicit a response, he knows. But it’s all incidental anyway as Jarvis has emerged from the toilet, looking more relaxed and less stressed out than before.

  “I see you met Adam,” Louise says, walking over to the mechanic and touching him lightly on the arm. “It’ll be nice to go for a drink tonight, help you settle in. It’s horrible when you don’t know anyone, isn’t it?”

  “Only if you’re sure, I don’t want to intrude?” Jarvis says, glancing at Adam.

  “Of course it’s fine,” Adam replies. He’s her type, Adam thinks, studying Louise and she fixates on the new mechanic. But don’t start getting paranoid, nobody likes a jealous neurotic. She’s only being friendly. The fact he’s good looking is completely incidental.

  “Okay,” Jarvis smiles for an infectious moment, “I’m in.”

  * * *

  The pub that Adam, Louise and Jarvis go to is old-fashioned, a proper boozer, not a wine bar, not swanky.

  “So, how long have you been married?” Jarvis asks, smiling at Louise and taking a sip of his pint. The pub garden is already busy around them – Brighton in the sun seems to magically create a city of people able to leave work early to drink out of doors. It’s one of the things Adam loves about the place; the sound of chatter and chinking glasses always form a comforting background noise, signifying happiness and a priority for living.

  “God, a few years, I lose count.” Adam laughs.

  “Don’t you even know?” Louise says, fingering a bar mat. “We married two years after Tom died. Not to the day, but—”

  “Tom?” Jarvis asks, glancing at them both, sensing a slight change in mood. Adam purses his lips and smiles, trying to cover up his discomfort, but only manages to manufacture a terrible fake grin, like he’s got fishing lines attached to his face, turning him into some disconcerting caricature.

  “Enough about us, how about you?” Adam says, trying to move on.

  “Me? Not much to tell,” Jarvis says, ripping open a packet of salted peanuts and emptying some into the palm of his hand.

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” Louise says, twirling her hair around and stroking her collar bone lightly. All the tell-tale signs of Louise in flirt mode. Adam begins nervously picking the skin from around his nails. He can see Louise glancing at him, irritated, as she talks. His nervous tics are like nails down a blackboard to her – he can see in her eyes that she wants to lean over and smack him one. Instead, she says quietly, “Adam, stop picking,” and she touches his hand without breaking eye contact with Jarvis.

  As the night progresses, Adam loses track of everything that’s being said. Jarvis recently ran a half marathon and is training for a full one. At one point Louise offers him up to go running training with Jarvis, which is clearly a terrible idea as Adam couldn’t run one mile, let alone 26. The evening drifts on and conversations flit back and forth. They all get more drunk and more raucous and then something curious happens. Adam starts to feel glad Jarvis came. They’re having fun, the three of them. It’s nice to be out and have company. They’ve moved inside now and Jarvis is leaning on the bar, chatting to the barmaid and ordering another round of drinks. He picks up a beer mat and flips it between his fingers. Adam looks from him to his wife and sees that she’s relaxed, too.

  “You all right, love?” he asks, seeing Louise looking at him.

  “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Having a nice night?”

  “Yeah, I am,” he says, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the lips. “I love you,” he says.

  “You too,” Louise replies, and for a second it sounds like she means it.

  “Ah, come on you two, get a room,” Jarvis jokes, putting another round of drinks down on the table.

  “Do you know what,” Adam says, slapping the table. “Fuck it, I will go running with you. You might have to be patient, though, my fitness isn’t what it was.”

  “What did it used to be?” Louise laughs.

  “Deal.” Jarvis grins.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Louise says, “I’ll cook us all dinner at the weekend after your first run, how about that?”

  “Deal again,” Jarvis repeats.

  * * *

  Two days later and Adam is nervously waiting in the hallway in his running shorts, realising that going running with someone who is clearly incredibly fit is a terrible, terrible idea. How did he let Louise talk him into this? Besides, Jarvis is coming and calling for him at eight am – way too early, in Adam’s opinion, especially on a weekend when Saturday is his lie-in day, the day Louise gets up with the kids so he can get some sleep. But Louise was determined that he should go and wouldn’t cop out.

  “Come on, Adam, you’ve got to look after yourself,” she’d said. “You’re not getting any younger, are you.”

  “I’m not ancient either, thank you.”

  But here he is, in his running shorts and t-shirt and trainers with padded soles (all bought lunchtime yesterday – he didn’t want to look like a dick by not having the gear, obviously). As Adam opens the front door, he sees Jarvis bent over in their front garden, stretching his hamstrings. Whereas all of the potted plants and hanging baskets Adam had planted earlier in the summer are now dead through lack of water, this man is in complete juxtaposition. He is alive in every sense you could use the word. Not only his physical fitness, or the way he manages to make his running gear look good (Adam looks like a pot-bellied dad playing at being a runner) but Jarvis’s demeanour, every word, every gesture and every movement suggest a man who wrings the most out of life, who isn’t prepared to let life pass him by – he is going to go out there and grab life and squeeze it so hard its balls bleed. Adam is simultaneously terrified and exhilarated. If he can absorb the tiniest fraction of Jarvis’s positive energy it could be an amazing friendship, reminiscent of something he lost, not a replacement for Tom, never that…but something else. Something he didn’t realise he needed until now: a friend of his own.

  “How long since you last ran?” Jarvis asks, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the house.

  “Never,” Adam says. “Or not since school, I guess.”

  “Ha, bloody hell. Okay. We’ll start gently. Let’s do a mile and see how you get on.”

  * * *

  Not well, it turns out. It isn’t his laboured breathing or the sweating, it’s his legs, they ache and his shins feel like the bones have shattered and sharp points are digging into his fl
esh from the inside out. And all with only a mile’s run. Panting, leaning on a fence at the bottom of a South Downs pathway, he urges Jarvis to go on without him.

  “I can’t…I’m sorry,” he says. Jarvis puts his hand on his back and laughs.

  “Good first run, now go home. I’m gonna do another five miles, then I’m going to sort you out a training plan this afternoon before I come over for dinner tonight. We’ll have you running a 10K before you know it, trust me.”

  And with that, he runs off without looking back. Jarvis makes it look so easy, he’s barely even broken a sweat and Adam feels like his lungs are having a barbeque. Eventually, he stands upright again and turns around to lean on the fence, taking a moment to bathe in the beauty of the South Downs, its rolling hills and green fields with views of villages and woodland. It’s beautiful where they live – sometimes day-to-day life means he forgets to appreciate the little things. He doesn’t come up here as often as he should, it always has a calming effect on him, makes him feel that little bit more…at home in his own skin. They could live in a concrete jungle or urban sprawl, but they don’t, they live in Brighton – sandwiched between the grey-green sea and the rolling green Downs. There are worse places to be. Smiling broadly, he pushes his sweaty hair out of his eyes and starts to walk slowly back home.

  Despite the fact he only ran a short distance and it felt like it was going to kill him, he’s now experiencing something he hadn’t expected at all. A kind of happiness and calm, filled with those endorphins people always talk about. He strolls home, enjoying the moment and taking in his surroundings – familiar, but somehow not – he feels calm and content. So that’s why people run, he thinks to himself. He arrives back at his front door – he’s been out for less than forty-five minutes, but it feels like he’s had an afternoon away. As he puts the key in the lock he can hear Louise in the hallway.

  “Hey, love,” he says, expecting she’ll ask about his run.

  “Why didn’t you tell me Jarvis had come for you? You should have called me, I didn’t even say hello,” she says instead.