Chapter 38
I vomit as soon as the toilet is in sight, not making it in time to prevent a little hitting the floor. The wrenching burns my throat. I wipe my nose on the back of my hand, then vomit again. My hands struggle to pull the chain. I drop to my knees before my legs give way.
Soumia has arrived by my side, her turn to rub my back. ‘Babe, what is it, what’s happened?’
In the whirlwind of events inside my mind, I don’t realise I’m already sobbing.
‘You’ve got to breathe, Callum. Give me your hand. Good. Look at me. In, out, in, out.’
I break my hand away from Soumia’s hold to wipe the sweat away from my forehead that I can feel running down the side of my face.
‘Splash your face, babe,’ Soumia says, turning the cold water tap on.
I move to the sink and cup my hands together, collecting a small pail of water, I throw it over me. It cools my skin on touch, a few stray drops run over my chin and rain onto my chest. I take the hand towel from Soumia and pat myself dry.
‘What the fuck was on that message?’
‘Picture.’ I sit back on the floor, lean against the bath, bring my knees to my chest, and bury my head in them, and continue to cry.
‘Of what? Babe, you’re freaking me out.’ Soumia’s sat next to me, one arm around me.
‘Olly and Liam.’
‘What, in the club?’ Soumia’s dabbing at my face with toilet tissue to dry my tears.
‘In bed.’
I take a deep breath and lock my hands around my knees to stop my hands trembling.
‘What do you mean?’
Alex has sent me an image which will forever be burnt into my retinas.
‘They’re together. Olly’s naked, face down on his bed.’ I don’t go into the smaller details like the starched white sheets, or the small ornament on his bedside table, a multi coloured British bulldog I bought Liam for one of his birthdays, or how peachy Olly’s bum looks.
‘What the fuck. Why would Olly go back to Liam’s?’
‘Because they’re all the same. Every one of them, gay or straight.’ My red puffy eyes stare back at me from the bathroom mirror.
‘There’s got to be a reason. Olly wouldn’t do that.’
‘I don’t want to know.’
‘You should speak to Olly tomorrow.’
‘I’m not fucking interested.’
‘Come on, wipe your nose. You’ve cried enough tears over Liam; you’re not to waste anymore. Get up, come on.’ Soumia’s over me now with an arm outstretched. I hold her hand as she pulls me up. ‘Let’s go and get a drink.’
I give my nose another blow then follow Soumia downstairs into the kitchen.
I sit down at the table, a semi-circle with the flat edge pushed up against the wall.
One of the few benefits of being crew is that our alcohol cupboard is always fully stocked with bottles of duty free.
Soumia places a no-frills IKEA glass in front of me (we’re both too clumsy to make it worthwhile splashing out on expensive ones).
Two large square ice cubes rattle inside.
She pours a healthy measure of Absolut vodka and mixes in a splash of diet Pepsi.
The lethal mix touches my tongue, forcing my face to shake the poison down my throat.
The tears have stopped, but my face remains flushed.
‘I can’t believe Liam would do that.’ I say between taking big gulps, hoping the cocktail will numb me.
‘I’ll kill him,’ Soumia says, picking up a sharp knife for effect.
‘Why would Alex send me that?’
‘Alex sent it?’
‘It was from her number.’ I look up at the clock on the wall: 03:30.
‘Poisonous bitch. Stay away from her from now on, she’s nothing but trouble.’
‘Will you get me my phone; I left it on your bed.’
Soumia retrieves my phone in a flash and hands it to me. ‘Don’t look at the picture again, it will only upset you. Delete it.’
‘I’m not looking at it. I’m blocking her number, and Olly’s. I can’t believe I fell for him. How low can you get? He knows what Liam did to me.’
‘Don’t jump to any conclusions, but yes, you should delete Liam’s number.’
‘He was deleted and blocked a long time ago. Why would Olly even talk to him?’
‘Alcohol. It makes you do stupid things.’
‘That’s not just a random shag, that’s spite. Why do I always fall for the wrong ones?’ The ice cracks as it starts to melt. ‘Can I have a top up?’
‘One more, then get to bed and get some sleep. It will all feel better in the morning. I’m on a late afternoon check in.’ Soumia refills my vodka and coke; she doesn’t bother with fresh ice.
‘I didn’t know you were flying tomorrow. How long you away for?’
‘Two nights. Toronto and back. Are you going to be OK on your own?’ She ruffles my hair.
‘I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. You best get to bed. I’m going to finish this and I’ll be up.’
‘Don’t give that knobhead another thought. Speak to Olly. Night, babe.’
I hold in my tears in until I hear Soumia has closed her bedroom door, then let out another cry.
I put my sleeve over my mouth to silence the sound.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
I breathe, finish my drink, and head to bed.
I know I won't sleep. A mixture of alcohol and the image on my phone keeping me awake.