If I Were You

Chapter 6 Flynn

Six Hours Ago

‘Mate, honestly! It’s fine. We’ve got it. You go and have a great weekend and stop obsessing.’

‘I’m not!’

Karim gives me a fleeting look as I pull a ball and tee from my bag. I’ve known him for two decades and recognize it as disbelief. ‘Really!’ I insist.

We’re on the eighteenth hole. Today is a thank you for him covering the logistics of this weekend. He said it was unnecessary, but I want him to feel valued; I want everyone to be happy in the company.

‘How’s it going with Amy? Last time I saw her she was trying to get me to sign another petition. Does that woman ever stop?’

His diversion to stop me talking about the weekend events does the trick and I laugh. Amy is never without a cause. It’s one of the many awesome things about her. She truly walks the walk. She volunteers in the local food bank, she donates time and money to various causes she believes in, she is always signing some petition or joining a protest. I’ve never known anyone else to care so much about the state of the world.

‘It’s going really well, thanks. We’re going to move in together.’

Is it the thought of Amy that adds a little power behind my drive? Karim swears under his breath as my ball rolls to a stop in the middle of the fairway.

Karim places his own ball down, draws out his biggest driver, jiggles into a wide stance and pulls the club back. He is lifting his head too early, I think, cringing as he smashes the ball. There’s an unmistakable crack as it hits the trees to our left.

I wait a beat. ‘Want me to help you look for it?’ I ask.

Karim flicks a glance. ‘Did we find the last seven?’

I laugh. ‘Fair point.’

Wading in the long grass to our left, we find three balls and a discarded can of Coke. Which in pre-Amy days I’d have ignored. Today I pick it up and put it in my bag to get rid of later: Amy’s concern for the environment in my head. It’s one of the many small ways I think being with her makes me a slightly nicer human.

‘I thought this was meant to be fun?’ Karim says, rootling amongst the weeds.

‘How are you not having fun?’ I grin.

‘Well, I hope it’s worth it. My own relationship is about to take the hit. Cally will be tackling this weekend solo with both kids for the first time …’

I cringe again. ‘Sorry.’

Karim gives up searching for his ball. ‘I’m kidding. It’s Amy’s sister – of course you need to be there. Bex and I have got this.’

‘I shouldn’t have let you guys do all three events on your own. But we can’t cancel now!’ My nerves rise, but I try to remain calm on the outside as I wonder about the logistics. Could I event-manage from the hotel?

Karim looks up, ‘We are more than prepared, Flynn. You’ve left instructions that are longer than the Bible and you’ve just spent seventeen holes of golf walking me through every second you’ll be gone.’

I try to relax but inside I’m still worrying.

‘Mate, seriously, it’s all good.’

‘I could get online on Saturday, try to manage things from …’

‘You need to trust us, mate,’ Karim says, cutting me off. Do I detect an edge to his voice?

I nod and force myself to take a breath. My heart is still thrumming beneath my polo shirt. ‘So, is it all going well at home?’ I ask, wanting to get back on track.

Karim puts a hand through his hair. ‘The jump from one to two has been a lot,’ he admits, ‘but, yeah. Fed’s almost two now and Ali’s five months and already crawling.’ You can’t mistake the pride on his face.

‘Got a picture?’

‘Of the kids?’ Karim asks, his eyebrows lifting.

I nod. There’s a short beat.

‘Of course.’ Karim pulls out his mobile, scrolls and wordlessly hands it over.

There is a small boy, a mass of black curls, grinning down as his arms encircle his baby sister.

‘Oh, that’s cute,’ I say, looking at the tiny faces, the sparkling eyes of the over-awed toddler, the raw love on display. I feel an unexpected lump in my throat and cough to cover it, handing the phone back.

‘I guess it is,’ Karim admits. ‘We’ve been so obsessed with surviving it that sometimes I forget that.’ His face softens as he speaks and I experience a visceral wave of feeling – a yearning to have what has made his face change in that way. I think of Amy again. It’s going well, I assure myself.

We wander to the edge of the fairway, the ground dappled with the shadows of the leaves above us. ‘But you, mate, you’re in the fun part. City breaks and late nights and a hangover where a small person isn’t leaping on you. Enjoy it.’

‘Absolutely,’ I say loudly, knowing that is the manly response, that my desire to settle down, for a family, makes me an outlier amongst men.

‘Although …’ I can’t help my face splitting into a smile. ‘Look what I’m taking with me …’

I pull the small box out of the side compartment of my bag and open it, the solitary diamond glinting in the sunlight.

‘Woah, nice, mate,’ Karim says, clapping me on the back.

I take an extra second to examine the ring, one I’d taken an age to choose, the lab-grown diamond big enough she’d be impressed but not so big she’d worry about looking extravagant, before slipping it back inside my bag. My insides jump around every time I think about presenting it to her. I know it’s what I want.

There’s no more talk of it, of course not, even though I want to ask Karim how he proposed, what marriage is like, how he feels now he’s secure in a stable relationship. I swallow the questions down. It’s not that I think Karim wouldn’t answer them, but it would be too strange, too far removed from what I’m used to talking about with him.

The facts delivered, Karim drops a second ball and I watch him before his ritual: the roll of his shoulders before he widens his stance, draws the club back. And hits it straight back into the trees.

A flock of birds take flight in unison.

‘Think you hit the trees there.’

‘You distracted me by proposing,’ he says grumpily.

I laugh and clap him on the back. ‘Sure, mate, that was it. Sure.’