It was early evening by the time Edward had managed the long trek to Tom Osbourne’s house. Minimal effort was required to leave his room via the window and sidle to the front of the building. From there, it was a matter of jumping onto the neighbours’ boundary wall and dashing off, out of view of Helen and Michael.
He gave no advance notice of his impending arrival. Sweeping past the Osbournes’ front gate and nearly bumping into a sign attached to the garden wall, he jogged up to the door and rapped the PVC with his knuckles.
Tom’s mother was surprised to see him at the door. “My goodness Ed, you’ve been in the wars. And you’re sweating. Have you been playing rugby again?”
Edward was in no mood to think of an appropriate answer. “Can I see Tom please?” he asked in return.
“Certainly, he’s upstairs packing as we speak,” Tom’s mother said.
Edward was taken aback. Then, a cold sweat of dread eroded him from the inside. He swooped round to gawp at the end of the garden path and study that sign in more detail:
‘Prescott’s Properties & Lettings: SOLD (subject to conditions)’
No sooner had the bemused woman invited Edward in for a second time, he had already made it halfway up the stairs. He took them three at a time, vaulting up the flight of steps in seconds.
He burst into the familiar surroundings of his friend’s room, where his heart sank. It also missed several beats, judging by his pallor.
“Ed!” exclaimed Tom. He had been flicking through a comic book, deciding whether it was worth keeping. Around him were boxes stacked high, some sealed, others half full with personal belongings.
“What is, wh-what is all this?” Edward cried out. “You said you were moving schools, just across town.”
Tom dropped the comic book on the floor and sat on the end of his bed. He could not bring himself to face Edward directly.
“You were just moving school. I mean, that’s bad enough, but why this?” Edward struggled to string a cohesive sentence together. His expression told its own story.
“My parents put the house up for sale a few weeks ago, not long after you last came over," Tom admitted.
“You thought you’d keep all of this like one giant secret?” said Edward, in despair.
“It’s been you who’s invited me around to your place lately. Otherwise you would have noticed,” Tom pointed out.
Edward was incensed. “You’re blaming me for not finding out sooner?”
“No, listen. It’s just…” Tom trailed off. He dared himself to take notice of the bruising on Edward’s arm. His legacy wound had taken a battering the other day with Wainwright et al. All the other cuts plastered on Edward’s head, not to mention the sheen of moisture on his face, cast a rather tragic look. “I didn’t make the decision, but my mum and dad think this is a great opportunity for me,” he lamented.
“You were just going to walk away, without saying bye?” Edward pined.
Tom was taken aback by this. The desperation etched in the voice of his friend made him wince with guilt.
“No, you can’t leave me. You’re all I’ve known as a friend,” Edward begged.
“Knock it off will you? There’s others. I was the one who introduced you to Lottie and everyone. No way you’re gonna be left—”
“You’re different,” pleaded Edward. “I can’t lose you. Please, don’t do this.” His eyes welled up.
Tom rolled his eyes. “Shit, Ed. I’m not dying. I’m moving across town.”
Edward resigned himself to the inevitable. Another of his attributes, that some may consider a hindrance, was his unwillingness to let go. Knowing, as he did, that Tom was not going to unpack his belongings on a whim and refuse to move house, he couldn’t accept it without a fight.
“There’s got to be another way,” he said despondently. When shouting and anger won’t do, the next phase is diplomacy and tact, biting through the knotted sorrow in his heart.
“You can be the first one to see my room when we move. You think our garden here is big, wait till you see our new back yard,” Tom said. Being an only child had given Edward another link, another connection to unite them.
It was all cold comfort to Edward, who sniffed and dabbed his eyes until they were puffy and itched. The awkward lull was broken by Tom’s mother entering the room.
“Edward, someone is here to see you,” she said.
Trailing her was the familiar figure of Michael Regis, looming large in the doorway.
“Edward, your mum and I are not angry,” he said. Edward knew his dad was being economical with the truth; this bellicose voice was reserved for demonstrating authority. It did however, seem to have an extra element of sincerity.
“We do understand what you’re going through,” Michael continued. “We’ll make sure you lads can see each other each week. You can keep in touch as well over the phone. Your mum and I both agree now would be a good time to get you a new mobile. You can contact Tom, you can let us know what you’re up to, it’s a win-win.”
“We’ll go boxing every week,” Tom said. “Maybe twice a week if we don’t have a lot of homework. And I can thrash you each night on Chaos Theory multiplayer mode.”
“You’ll always be welcome round ours, Edward,” said Tom’s mother, in a soft and unassuming voice.
All eyes were now bearing down on Edward. The ball was in his court. He weighed up his options. At this fork in the road, which avenue should he pursue? Should he tone down the conflict and act contrite, or should he up the ante and continue fighting for his pal, fighting against this latest injustice?
Well, what should Edward Kreus choose?
PART B – SCREAMS
XII
Raised voices could be heard clearly from the upstairs room. The explosions and gunfire ceased and a yell of derision pierced the silence.
“You absolute knob-jockey!”
“I kept in formation, it was your fault for losing our cover,” a second voice shouted back.
These noises came from a bedroom where two boys were hard at work, defeating the enemy guerrilla fighters in an online battle to the death.
“Next time follow my lead and take point, yeah? You useless pile of—”
“Tactical reloading is the way to go, OK Tudefjæs?” Both boys grinned at each other and burst out laughing.
“Who did that prick think he was, Rambo?” One of them tossed his head back to flick his wavy blonde hair away from his eyeline.
“I know, fuck the Danish!” The second youth was the more animated of the two. A beaming smile exposed prominent dimples, which combined with his gleaming teeth to understate his true age.
“My cousins live in Copenhagen, don’t slate the whole country because of one sad-sack Euro-prat,” the first boy said.
The other boy, with short black hair and slender frame complimenting his youthful complexion, raised his eyebrows as he turned to his acquaintance. “That’s exactly why I said it,” he retorted.
The boys chuckled raucously again. “Tudefjæs,” they muttered in unison.
Age brings wisdom, of which Edward – now aged sixteen – had gained plenty in the past three years. In most people’s books, three years is a long time. To Edward Kreus and Thomas Osbourne, the reality was that nothing profound had changed in the dynamics of their friendship during that time.
“Another game,” he said. Tom was unsure if this was a genuine question or rhetorical. He nodded keenly and Edward loaded a new multiplayer mission.
The combat ended in a decisive victory for their team. Both boys celebrated with a shout of euphoria and clenched fists. They slapped their palms together in a firm high-five. For a split-second, there was a degree of uncertainty between them. Their hands remained touching in mid-air, albeit for a moment. It was long enough to make their minds race and hearts beat faster.
Edward leaned across to pick up Tom’s controller from in front of his crossed legs. In doing so, Edward brushed Tom’s hand that was being used to support his bo
dy. In retrospect, Edward could not say it was wholly accidental. Either way, it was a tender moment where both of them knew what they felt, deep down. Yet they were clueless as to whether those feelings were reciprocated. These ‘feelings’ were hard to describe. It was a peculiar sensation that had evolved from their being good friends initially.
They remained hesitant. Neither wanted to admit what had happened or ask what should happen next. The magnetic attraction worked its magic to draw them physically closer. It was as though they were in a log flume, approaching a waterfall. The butterflies were building in their stomachs; they could anticipate what was coming and they couldn’t fight it.
Unlike the waterfall, they did not want to fight it.
Their faces drew near enough for them to feel each other’s breath on their cheeks. This level of suspense sustained itself for many seconds, precisely how long neither could say.
A creak on the landing outside forced a sharp intake of air as they whipped their heads towards the closed door. They waited and eventually reached the conclusion that it was the floorboards heaving, as the house settled inexplicably.
They gazed back into each other’s eyes and noticed that their hands, being used to support themselves on the floor, were still touching. It was undeniable, it had by now sunk in to both of them. No words needed speaking.
A caress, a tender stroke with the back of Edward’s palm. Their breathing had synchronised. Neither of them blinked. Neither one dared make the first move. Then a sudden, swift peck on the lips and they retracted. The coast was clear, they both wanted this and they were alone. They drew close for a second time and locked lips for longer. Edward blushed and felt a surge of heat course through his skin. He felt on top of the world, an ecstasy that had been building for years.
Tom moved onto his knees, shifting his hands onto Edward’s thighs. Edward leaned back against the foot of the bed and reached out a hand to caress his friend’s neck. It was supple, he did not feel worthy of stroking Tom’s skin, it was too perfect. Both had their eyes closed. Instinct driving them on, lust fuelling their intimacy.
The kissing grew steadily more passionate, their tongues probing deeper. They knew now what it was they wanted. From this moment forth, they understood that they were no longer best friends. They were now partners for life. Nothing could stop them.
“Boys, dinner!” a woman’s voice hollered from downstairs.
Damn, they thought, pulling away from any further contact. Smiling shyly, they were almost ashamed to look each other in the eye. Tom’s mum had spoken, so they traipsed downstairs to the dining room without saying anything.
What a way to kill the mood.
◆◆◆
Having eaten their supper, Edward and Tom went outside for a bike ride. The air was muggy, forcing them to work up a sweat as they rode along quiet back streets and ascended inclines on their way out of town. The pair of them were in excellent shape; Tom slightly more muscular and had the advantage of strength, whilst Edward’s slimmer body afforded him the benefits of speed and stamina.
They had cycled this route countless times since Tom and his family had relocated. The Osbournes now lived on the outer fringes of town, upgrading to a larger house in a more tranquil locale. Without fail, Edward would visit Tom no fewer than two days a week, relishing the chance to cross town and meet his friend.
“Where are we going?” Edward called out behind his friend. He was following Tom down a previously unexplored country lane, past rows of thick foliage and spacious cottages.
“You’ll see, it’s pretty cool,” answered Tom without looking back. “Your legs sore?”
“Hardly,” grimaced Edward through clenched teeth. “You gonna murder me up here or something?”
“You got me, smart-arse,” Tom joked.
The road levelled out and they pulled onto a narrow footpath. Rain had fallen not twenty-four hours ago, and the leaves covering the ground formed a soggy layer of mush over which they pedalled. Following the path until it peeled round a bend, they happened upon a pretty lake, surrounded on one side by a raised embankment and tall grass.
“It’s alright here, isn’t it?” Toshy remarked. He planted his bike on the ground and settled down against his rucksack. Edward followed suit.
“Was it really worth that slog uphill?”
“I thought you said it was alright coming up here?” asked Tom.
“We’ve got to do the same again in the dark to get back,” Edward pointed out.
Toshy scoffed. “We know our way, and besides it’s all downhill. Now get comfy next to me, ya melt.”
Tom rolled onto his side and supported himself with his arm. He eyed Edward laying on his back with hands nestled snugly behind his head.
“We’ve both got just one exam left,” Edward said out of the blue, gaze not deviating from the twilight.
“Wait, didn’t you say you had another one after your chemistry paper?” asked Tom. “Religious studies, wasn’t it?”
“Pah, religion can go suck one,” Edward snapped back.
Toshy sniggered. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
For a moment, another hush descended on them. A light breeze picked up and goose-bumps formed on their legs, exposed to the elements by virtue of the shorts they’d decided to wear that evening. On the horizon, the sun had already receded behind the hedgerows, casting weak rays on the splendid vista in front of them. This seldom-trodden idyll they were admiring helped to take their minds off the chill. Somewhere in the distance, a wood pigeon cooed. A lone swan trod water, taking time to preen itself near a cluster of reeds languishing near the water’s edge.
Then, Edward spoke. “Coming to boxing on Monday?”
“Can’t make it next week actually. I have other plans,” Tom answered.
“Oh? What might those be?” Edward queried, playfully.
“I have a load of last-minute revision to get done for my exam.”
Edward was not wholly convinced by this. He did not get the chance to press Tom further before he spoke again.
“You still going to your appointments?” Tom posed the question with the merest hint of an inflection in his voice.
“It’s been months since I last went. She just suggested we arrange another session and left me to pick a date. These days it’s really a case of going through the motions, kinda.”
“What’re they like? The therapy, I mean.”
“How come you want to know? Thinking of coming along too?” said Edward.
“No! It’s just, we’ve literally never properly discussed this before and I…” Tom fumbled for the right words. “I guess I wanna know more about what happens.”
“Don’t you remember?” Edward asked. “Three, four years ago – however long it was – you were the one suggesting I go in the first place. I listened to you rather than my GP and parents.”
“I didn’t know what else to suggest. You were literally like a blubbering heap of…I dunno, it just seemed like the only thing I could say.”
“I feel like I can be more open with my feelings to you, rather than her,” Edward said scathingly of Dr Wells.
“That is true, you did tell me about your scrapbooks and diary,” Tom pointed out with a laugh in Edward’s direction.
Edward was unfazed by this and went on. “Why ask about all this in the first place?”
It was clear that Tom would refuse to answer. He pushed on with taking the mickey out of Edward’s cherished journal. “You going to write a shit-load in your diary tonight? Writing up your second-by-second account of what happened today?” His churlish giggling was given short shrift by his pal. Ultimately, they both let the conversation lie with light-hearted relief, turning to face the inky-blue sky above.
Their ruminating turned into inconsequential small talk, the sort of banal chatter that they were used to covering whenever they met up. Gradually this too petered out into nothingness. They both stayed on the damp grass, resting. Their elbows touched and they smiled in uni
son.
“You know before dinner, what was that?” Edward asked, adopting a serious tone.
“Doesn’t need explaining; we both wanted it. Tell me you didn’t,” replied Tom.
“No, I liked it and everything. I just—” Edward broke off to consider how best to phrase what he wanted to say. “I just want to know where you think we should go from here.”
Tom mulled this over. “Well, I want to keep seeing you for a start,” he declared at length. “Nothing has to change, unless you think—”
“No, it’s cool. I, I…” and without uttering any other words, Edward shuffled over and buried his body against his friend’s.
It was a cool night and their body heat generated from the cycle ride had diminished, as had the sun’s rays. He tucked his head under Tom’s chin and their legs intertwined. Facing each other, they huddled tight. In seconds, their chests rose and fell as one. Neither of them was tired, but they felt perfectly relaxed and content, like they had rarely been before.
They moved their arms at the same time, to hold hands. Both hands then drew across Edward’s right side. His legacy wound tingled, together with a faint prickly sensation reverberating over his body. He felt elation, ecstasy, euphoria. The cockles of his heart were stoking the fire of emotion that had never taken hold so strongly.
It was hard to judge how much time had passed. Edward only spoke when it became so dark, he could not discern the outline of his friend at point-blank range.
“I like you. Like, I really like you. Like, a lot.”
Toshy smiled softly, although Edward couldn’t tell. “I love you too,” he whispered, so close to Edward’s cheek that condensation from his breath warmed the inside of his ear, pacifying his soul.
It was all the validation Edward needed. He threw his arms round Tom’s body, which Tom reciprocated. They held each other in a snug embrace from which neither could relinquish.
XIII
Why is it always the case that your phone rings at the most inappropriate times? Not only the most embarrassing out-dated, electro-trash ringtone, but right under the nose of the strictest teacher in school. Also, why the hell must it invariably be stuffed in the most difficult-to-reach pocket of your backpack?
Screams of Thy Neighbour Page 9