Chapter 28
Harvey
Killian was struggling. I hadn’t heard him sing for a while, and everything I’d loved about his voice was still there, but tonight, he wasn’t at his best.
Of course, he apologised to his audience, but I could see him wince and rub his throat.
What had he said? He was off for a few gigs in Scotland. Not sure that was a good idea, but I was no expert.
Duncan appeared during the interval, a bottle of sparkling water in hand.
“Killian said to bring you this.”
“Thank you. He’s okay, isn’t he?”
He shook his head. “He’s not doing well. It’s his throat. He mentioned yesterday that he was having some issues. Seems like they’ve got worse.”
“What about Scotland? Isn’t he supposed to go there tomorrow?”
“I’m afraid we might have to cancel the trip. If he can’t sing, there’s no point, but I know him. He hates letting his fans down.”
“He always was selfless and considerate.” I remembered all the times he’d asked if I was okay, always putting me before him.
“He’s not changed, but I guess we’ll see how it goes after the show.”
“Won’t it make it worse to carry on?”
“Likely, but try telling him to take it easy. He’s a workhorse. He’s barely taken a day off in the three years I’ve known him.”
“So, you’ve been with him since the start.” That would mean he’d know about me.
“I have.”
There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but only one seemed important.
“How was he, you know, after he found me?” I shifted in my seat, worried at what he’d say.
“Broken, physically and emotionally. I think you should ask him these questions. I can only tell you what I saw.”
“I’m sorry. I never meant for it to happen that way.” I'd given no thought to what would happen if I was found and it was only when I was in Ireland that I thought about how my actions would have affected him. Too little, too late.
“Hey, mental health is something we’re all still learning about. The important thing is that you’re well, and Killian would be the first one to tell you that, as much as it hurt.”
“Thank you for being there for him when I couldn’t.”
“Just don’t hurt him again. He might seem strong and confident, but deep down, he carries his own share of demons, and not just because of you.”
With that, he disappeared, leaving me to ponder what he meant. I knew Killian had issues with drink and drugs, losing his brother, and how his family had treated him, but what other demons did he have?
We’d agreed to be friends. I had to hope we would be as open as we’d been when we first met. Except then, I'd been hiding the most important thing from him.
I sipped the water and looked at the audience. Most were middle-aged women, as Steph had said, but there was a sprinkling of men in the audience, and some younger girls, but it was obvious who he appealed to.
After all this time, he still appealed to me in a big way.
I’d chosen to ‘forget’ him these past few years, and mostly, I’d been successful, but sometimes I missed his embrace, missed the smile he always had for me, and I even missed his teasing.
Most of all, it was his compassion. I hadn’t experienced that too much in my life.
As the lights dimmed and the curtain rose, instead of Killian on the stage, there stood Duncan.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Killian is sorry, but because of ill health, he’s unable to continue with the rest of the performance.”
There were groans and boos all round, but what was he to do? Even I knew he couldn’t go on the way he was without damaging the little voice he had left.
“You will, of course, be offered a full refund should you want it, and tickets to a future event. He sends his heartfelt apologies, but he cannot continue.”
Murmurs spread throughout the theatre.
“I’ve travelled all day to get here…”
“Well, that’s just ridiculous…”
“Hmm, I’ll be getting my money back, that’s for sure…”
What the fuck? The Killian I knew wouldn’t have done this for no good reason, and it was on the tip of my tongue to say something, but I sat quietly and waited.
I wanted to see him before I set off for home and make sure he was going to be okay. Friends did that, didn’t they?
The theatre emptied, and I made my way downstairs to wait in the lobby.
“Sir, we’re about to close the doors. You’ll need to leave.”
“I’m waiting for Killian.”
“I’m sure you are, sir, but the event has ended, and we’re going to need you to leave.”
I held my hand up to protest, but a firm hand on my back guided me towards the door.
“Wait.” I turned to see Duncan hurrying towards us. “It’s fine. He’s a friend, and Killian would like to see him.”
The security man removed his hand and smiled apologetically.
“Harvey, come this way.”
He led me through the theatre, backstage, and to a dressing room with Killian’s name on it. He knocked and waited.
Killian opened the door, looking awful. I reached out and touched his cheek.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” His eyes looked red and watery in contrast to his pale skin. He shook his head and stepped back so we could enter.
“Sit down, Killian, before you fall.” Duncan led him to a sofa, then poured him a glass of water.
“Can you talk at all?” I asked, worried for him.
“No,” he mouthed. “Too sore.”
“You shouldn’t have gone on if it was that bad. What were you thinking?” What had happened since we met earlier for it to worsen this much?
“I told you, Harvey, he’s a stubborn one and hates to let people down. We’re going to have to cancel Scotland, no doubt about that. You’ll need to go home and rest as best you can.”
“Does he live locally?”
“He’s got a place on the docks. There’s a car outside to take him. I’ll make sure he gets some rest. I can leave some food for you to help yourself to when you’re feeling better.”
“You can’t leave him on his own,” I argued. “He needs looking after.”
“I would, but with the cancellation of Scotland, I don’t have time to babysit him.”
Killian glared at Duncan and typed something out on his phone.
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”
“I beg to differ,” I said and turned to Duncan. “He needs proper care. He barely has enough energy to stand, let alone get food.”
I had an idea but didn’t know if either of them would agree.
“You could come and stay with me. I have a spare room. I can cook for you, make sure you’re okay. The other alternative is that I stay at your place, but then there’s no one to look after my cat. It’d be a pain for me to travel back and forth every day.”
I looked between them. Duncan’s face had brightened, but Killian frowned.
“Sounds like a good idea to me. What do you think?” Duncan asked him.
Killian typed furiously on his phone. “No. I’ll not put you out. I’ll be okay on my own. I don’t need anyone’s pity.”
“For fuck’s sake, Killian. It’s not pity. You’re sick. I can help you if Duncan has a lot to do. Don’t be such a baby.”
He glared at me, but I could tell I was getting through to him. He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumped. “Okay,” he mouthed.
“That’s settled then.” Duncan seemed relieved. “I’ll get the car to take you to Killian’s. We’ll pack up some stuff and then drive to yours. How does that sound?”
“Good with me.” I looked over at Killian. He really did look rough and at the point of sleep.
I put my arm around his waist and helped him out of the room and to a waiting car in front of the theatre. People still mingled around, shock on their faces as we manhandled Killian into the back of the vehicle.
He lay his head back on the headrest and grabbed for my hand. I clutched it tightly, not wanting to let go. If I could offer comfort, I would.
Duncan hopped in the front, and we sped down to the docks. The apartments here weren’t huge, but I knew they’d carry a hefty price tag, and when we finally got him upstairs into his apartment, I could see why.
The view was fantastic. It overlooked the River Mersey and the peninsula where I lived, although my house was on the other side, by the River Dee.
“I’ll grab some clothes and toiletries if you could sit with him. I won’t be long.”
Duncan scurried away into what I assumed was the bedroom. Killian sat on the sofa, his eyes closed. I looked around the room, sparse in appearance.
There were no knick-knacks, no pictures in photo frames, no rugs on the floor. It was as if he’d bought the place, moved in sufficient furniture to live, and left the rest bare. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see unpacked boxes tucked away somewhere; it was that stark.
I wandered into the kitchen, expecting to see something, but it was pristine. The oven didn’t look as if it had ever been turned on, and the dishwasher stood empty.
Did he even live here? I guessed life on the road meant he wasn’t here often, but I expected more.
I heard Duncan moving around and went to meet him.
“Here’s a bag with some clothes. His toiletries are in there as well.”
“He doesn’t spend much time here, does he?” I took the bag from him and went back into the lounge to see Killian curled up on the sofa.
“He does, but he’s always liked to keep things minimal.”
“There’s minimalist, and then there’s unlived in. There’s nothing to say he lives here.”
“What you must understand about Killian is that he’s not materialistic. He doesn’t believe in buying things to show status. To him, what’s in his heart matters most, not what he owns. Hell, remember those boots of his?”
Did I? I remembered them vividly. He wore them all the time. I don’t think I saw him wear anything else in the short time I knew him.
“He only threw them out last year. They were falling apart. Yet, with all the money he’s earned, he refused to buy another pair until he was sure they couldn’t be repaired.”
I hadn’t known that about him. We’d talked about him not having much to his name, that anything he’d had since moving to England he’d either sold or had stolen. Drug addicts had no shame and would steal from anyone. He’d pawned his guitar more times than he could count but always got it back.
That was a point. Where was it?
“Where’s his guitar?” I asked.
“In the bedroom. Why? Do you think he’ll need it?”
I don’t know why it seemed important, but I headed to the bedroom. There in the corner was his guitar in its hard case.
I opened it up, just to make sure, and almost dropped it on the floor.
Tucked behind the strings was a photo of me. When had he taken that?
It couldn’t have been early on in our relationship because I was laughing, and when I first met him, I don’t think I even cracked a smile.
What broke my heart was that he’d kept it after all this time. I stroked the image, hardly recognising the person staring back at me.
Empty, soulless eyes and a smile so fake. Why hadn’t I seen it?
I returned it to its place, closed the case, and fastened the latch.
I swallowed down the lump that had formed in my throat and picked up the case, but before I could go anywhere, Killian’s arms surrounded me, his face next to mine.
I wrapped my arms around my waist and gripped his forearms, bringing back memories of a time when we’d done this in my kitchen, a time when we’d been finding our way.
Except I’d lost mine and lost him along the way. I closed my eyes and breathed him in.
Three years, and I still craved his touch. I leant back into his familiar embrace, realising I’d never wanted to be anywhere but here.
He was where my heart belonged. I knew it the moment I saw him yesterday. My heart had danced happily, then sank into the depths of despair when he ignored me.
It was only then that I realised that all this time, I’d been waiting for him and him alone, not knowing if I’d ever see him again.
I’d vowed to myself that I wouldn’t chase him, that if it was meant to be, we’d meet again, but deep down, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away and that, in time, I’d find him.
And now there we were, in each other’s arms, apologies sitting on my tongue, knowing they’d never be enough for the hurt I caused him, but hoping deep down that one day he’d see I did it for us.
To save us from a love that was sure to hurt us both.
“We should go,” I said, realising Duncan was waiting. We’d have time to talk, and there was much to be said.
He released me, but not before he placed a tender kiss on my head. “It was only ever you,” he croaked, then turned and walked away.