Chapter Four The Boys #2
Jack laughs in a humourless fashion. ‘You cocked up a gender-reveal party, mate. You. Charlie King. The man who once planned out every essay he was going to write at university a year in advance. And mine. And Leo’s. You live to make sure things go smoothly.’
‘Alright, alright,’ I concede. The gender reveal was, without a doubt, the worst mistake I have ever made. And boy, am I paying for it.
What about the car crash?
That wasn’t my fault, though?
‘We knew there was definitely something going on with you, and it’s clearly all because of that accident,’ Jack continues. ‘It obviously hit you hard.’
‘But it shouldn’t have!’ I burst out. ‘It was nothing!’
‘Car crashes are not nothing, Charlie,’ Leo remarks, a slight look of disbelief on his face.
‘This one was! I shouldn’t be feeling like this!’
I don’t know why I’m so adamant, but I am. All of this just makes me feel so damned . . . weak. People go through much worse than a little prang, and don’t have these problems. Why is this happening to me?!
‘We don’t get to dictate how we react when something bad happens to us, mate,’ Jack says, a hangdog expression on his face all of a sudden.
I’ve never seen Jack look so uncomfortable before.
It’s extremely disconcerting. Like a deep-sea fisherman confronted with the prospect of a trek across the desert.
Leo also looks uncomfortable, but it’s a more natural state for him, so I’m not nearly as perturbed by it.
‘Maybe it would be good for you to . . . talk about it more?’ Leo suggests.
This is officially the first time in human history that, in a conversation between three men, one has suggested talking more about a difficult subject. I feel like there should be a large brass gong going off somewhere close by.
‘Maybe to someone like a doctor?’ Leo adds.
That’s more like it. Men are very good at advising their friends to talk about their problems. Just not to each other.
I shrug my shoulders anyway. ‘I just don’t think there’s anything to talk about.
There’s nothing really wrong with me. I don’t need to see a doctor.
’ I feel like I’m now repeating a phrase that I don’t necessarily believe anymore.
The same way if you say a word over and over again, it loses all meaning.
Jack’s eyes meet with Leo’s.
‘There is something wrong, mate,’ Jack says. ‘And it’s nothing to be ashamed of.’
My eyes flash as I look back up at him. ‘Isn’t it?
I have a panic attack in front of dozens of people at a bowling alley.
I screw up one of the biggest jobs I’ve ever had.
I walk around looking like a zombie, and I can’t get the lyrics to one of the dumbest songs in the universe out of my head!
’ I throw up my hands. ‘It’s all so . . .
bloody embarrassing! Can you imagine going to a doctor and telling them all that? ’
I get up from the couch, affect a stiff pose and take on an officious look. ‘What seems to be the trouble, Mr King?’ I say in a posh accent.
I then turn my head and contrive to look miserable. ‘“My Humps”, doctor! It’s all about “My Humps”!’ I snort with derision and throw my hands in the air. ‘I’d sound like a talking camel.’
They both look at me doubtfully. I don’t like it when people do that. It makes me want to curl up in a ball and die.
‘Does Annie know about all of this?’ Leo asks.
I make a face. ‘More or less. I didn’t really want her to. Thought it might ruin things between us.’
Leo throws his hands up. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! That’s not going to happen.’
‘You sure about that?’ I argue. ‘We haven’t been together all that long. Things could go wrong fast if she thinks I’m messed up by something that’s so trivial. Plenty more blokes out there that can cope with stuff like that much better.’
‘Good grief, Charlie,’ Leo sighs.
‘And what did she reckon you should do?’ Jack asks in a blunt tone.
The look on my face gets worse. ‘Go see a doctor.’
‘Well, there you bloody go, then!’
‘No!’ I exclaim. ‘I don’t need that. I don’t want that.’
Leo grunts in frustration.
‘But you’ve got to do something,’ Jack points out. ‘Can’t carry on like this. There isn’t enough horse porn in the world.’
‘Give me a break, will you?’ I snap, ignoring his attempt at humour.
I’m not being fair to my friend, but he doesn’t understand what I’m going through. Neither of them does.
‘It’s okay, Charlie. We know what you’re going through,’ Leo says – and I think I should start promoting him as a mind-reading act, in support of Zitana.
‘No, you don’t,’ I say in a sullen voice, sitting back down again on the couch. I pick up what’s left of my coffee and drain it in one swallow. I’ll get Jack to make me another one in a minute. The taste just about suits my mood.
‘Yes, we do,’ Jack says, with a sigh. He leans back a bit, and runs a hand through his straggly black hair. ‘You don’t think we know what it’s like to have something terrible happen to us that has a knock-on effect? We’re as human as you are, Charlie. It happens to all of us.’
My brow creases. ‘No, it doesn’t. Not like this.’
Jack looks exasperated. ‘The Grampians, Charlie.’
I look at him, understandably confused. ‘What about them?’
He rolls his eyes. ‘I got lost there four years ago. Don’t you remember?’
‘Of course I remember. But you’ve never seemed that bothered by it. Not once it had been a few weeks, anyway. You made up that joke, didn’t you? About getting grabbed in the Grampians? Didn’t your brother get that t-shirt made for you?’
‘Yes. He did. It’s one of the reasons we don’t speak much these days,’ Jack says in a dark voice, and rubs his eyes with both hands. ‘Look, I know I made a joke out of it at the time, but consider this . . . have I been climbing or trekking since? Have I taken Gormley anywhere for bloody ages?’
I think for a moment. Gormley is Jack’s decrepit beige and brown mobile home from the 1990s he has parked on his driveway – and it’s not moved in years.
I’m not quite sure it could, judging by the rust on the wheel arches.
And he certainly hasn’t been anywhere on a hike.
His Facebook used to be full of pictures of all sorts of wild and wonderful scenery, but not anymore.
‘No. I guess not. I never really put two and two together until now.’
Jack was, for many years, a prolific climber. Not a weekend would go by without him taking himself off, usually alone, to go somewhere tall and pointy. It was never something I was into, but we did all go to Scafell Pike together one year in Gormley for our annual Shenanigans, I remember that.
And then there was the time I got him into that mankini . . .
I look at the pained expression on his face. ‘So, did it affect you more than you let on, then?’
‘Of course it did!’ he says. ‘I was up there for nearly three days.’
‘But you found your way out eventually,’ I counter. I find it deeply uncomfortable to think of Jack not being able to handle himself. If anyone is a rock in my life, it’s him. A leather-jacket-wearing rock, who is as dependable as he is sarcastic.
‘I was very lucky, Charlie. I had run out of food and water, and I was exhausted. I don’t think . . . I don’t think I had more than a couple of hours left in me when I stumbled across that farm.’
‘You’re too hard on yourself.’
‘No, I’m not!’ He actually sounds angry now.
Which I don’t understand at all. Getting lost somewhere like that could happen to anyone.
Even the most experienced of climbers. It happens all the time.
I made sure to show him a lot of accounts of people more experienced than him getting lost, to make him feel better.
Jack takes a deep breath. ‘Look, all I’m saying is that it’s been four years since that happened .
. . and it’s still . . . with me. The idea of going any place where I can see the horizon still makes me feel sick.
I had to look at it for days, thinking it might be the last thing I ever saw.
For four years, I’ve avoided any situation where I am completely on my own, or can’t back myself up against a nice, solid wall.
You had a car crash just a few months ago.
Perfectly reasonable that you’d still be in a bit of a state about it. ’
‘That’s different.’
I don’t know how or why it is right at this moment, but I know it’s different. I’m different.
‘It’s really not,’ Leo says. ‘We know what you’re going through.’
‘Do you?’ I ask him, incredulous. I knew all about Jack’s adventure in the Grampians, but I have no idea why Leo thinks he can sympathise with me.
‘Yes, I do.’ Leo’s face has taken on a much darker expression. That’s more disconcerting than Jack looking doubtful.
‘And I figure it’s about time I told you both about it,’ Leo replies with a wan smile. ‘What’s happening to you has brought home a few things about me that I’ve been trying to ignore . . . and failing.’
Okay. This is unexpected. Both Jack and I have known something has been going on with Leo for a while now, but neither of us has felt able to ask what.
Leo is by far and away the most private of the three of us.
He always has been. He’s also a person who can be quite happy just in their own company.
But there’s been something about him for quite a long time that goes beyond that.
A . . . I don’t know . . . fear? He’s seemed like a bag of nerves for so long.
‘We have wondered what’s been going on with you,’ I say. ‘And we’ve been desperate to ask you about it . . . but it never felt like it was the right time.’
Curse me to hell, but I feel much better turning the attention onto Leo. It’s a relief to move away from my silliness.
Another slightly exhausted smile. ‘It’s not been something I have wanted to get into. But seeing you have that panic attack shocked me, Charlie. You’ve always been so . . . together in the past.’