Chapter 5 #3
I find time later to pop my head into John’s office and let him know I won’t be back after today, since I have to go and help my ‘brother’ out.
I knock on his door, my stomach churning and sweat beading on my forehead.
After all his admittedly grumpy yet incredible kindness, I feel like a bit of a dickhead leaving him in the lurch.
I swallow a deep breath and push the door open at his invitation.
“Corey, what’s up?” John looks up at me from behind his desk. He holds my gaze, a change from his usual lack of eye contact. At my lack of anything to say, the words having simply fallen out of my head, he tilts his head at me, and a soft smile takes over his face.
“You’re leaving.”
It’s not a question. Somehow, he knows. He nods at me slowly, and, after everything, that’s what breaks me.
A guttural sob forces its way out of my body, and my legs can no longer keep me standing.
I crumple to the floor, but before I can fold in on myself, John’s there, wrapping me up in a hug and squeezing me tight.
“Shh shh shh, it’s OK. It’s all gonna be OK.
Just let it out. Come on, you’re alright, you’re alright.
” He rubs my back in the most paternal gesture I’ve felt since…
Have I ever felt this? My dad never once laid a hand on me in comfort after the age of about ten, only in anger and disgust. The way John holds me steady while I find my way out of the tumult of emotions slamming their way through my body, as though he were a lighthouse for me in this storm, is nothing short of heroic.
I feel lost in the grief, the pain, the relief, the hope, the sadness, the joy.
All the feelings, all the thoughts, all the worries that’ve been building inside me, and I’ve been relentlessly tamping down again and again to prevent…
this. This crashing tide of overwhelming apprehension, foreboding, and above all, a sense of possibility.
Of burning hope that I can do more. Do better. Make her proud.
He holds me until the tightness in my chest releases its grip, and the tears subside. I pull away from him, and he shoves a tissue into my hand.
“Better?” he asks.
“Better,” I croak.
“Good, now…” He gestures at the seat on this side of his desk as he moves to sit in the one beside it. “I think you’d better tell me what’s going on, don’t you?”
So, I do. I tell him everything. From the very beginning, just like I did with Emma. When I explain I don’t, in fact, have a brother, only a friend whom I finally found after weeks of not knowing whether he was alive or not, he nods in understanding.
“So, you’re going to be with your friend?”
“Yeah, he er… He seems to have a new partner who cares a lot about him, and friends, too. And I just—”
“You want to be a part of his life. There’s nothing wrong with that, Corey.
” John pats my hand resignedly but reassuringly.
“Well, I can’t say I won’t miss you being around.
You were doing a good job.” He gives me a sardonic grin.
“And you kept Emma busy, so she left me in peace.” I smile back at him, knowing he’s full of crap.
He loves Emma’s antics just as much as I do.
“Thank you for everything, John. I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for you giving me this job.”
He waves me off before telling me he’ll sort out my last pay and post it into my locker in a bit. Then he tells me if I’m skiving off on no notice and leaving him in the lurch, the least I can do is give the showers a bloody good clean before I go.
I’ve barely got the mop bucket back in the storecupboard when suddenly a mass of blue-haired Scotswoman barrels into me.
“You’re leaving!” she squeals, nearly deafening me with her volume and shrillness.
“I am,” I say around a laugh, utterly unsurprised John let the cat out of the bag. I would have said goodbye to Emma without him getting her back here. I definitely would have. Probably.
“Were ye not plannin’ on sayin’ bye?” she asks, in a scarily accurate insight into my brain.
“Of course I was.” She pulls away and looks at me with one eyebrow raised. “Ugh, fine. I may have texted you instead, but it’s only because saying goodbye is hard.” I can hear the whine in my own voice.
“Aye, it’s hard. But that doesnae mean ye get to wriggle out of it.” She squeezes me into a hug again. “Ye’re away to see Rain?”
“Yeah,” I chuckle. “He and his partner invited me to stay with them for a while so I can figure some stuff out with my life.”
“Well, I’m gonnae miss you, but see if it doesnae work out, you come straight back here. Promise?”
“I promise.”
The rest of the day passes in a whirlwind of goodbyes and well-wishes from regulars in the gym.
Emma barely leaves my side all day, insisting we arrange a weekly video chat so we can stay in touch.
She also reminds me that Coventry isn’t very far away from anywhere, being so central, so I can always come back to visit, or she can visit me wherever I end up.
It feels surreal to have people who will miss me, and I do believe they mean it.
It’s not something I’ve experienced before.
I’ve always seemed to be disposable. My parents threw me away, not once but twice, and my ex…
Well, the less said about him, the better.
I’ve never been very good at making friends, too highly strung, or too in my own head, or too uptight.
Too me for anyone to want to keep. But Emma, and maybe John too, they want to keep me.
In their lives, at least, if not in the same town.
I end up covering the gym closing shift for Emma, but before she leaves, she squeezes the breath out of me in a tight hug, whispering advice in a voice thick with tears.
By the time I’ve finished everything I need to do and locked up, had a shower, making good use of the changing rooms one last time, and returned to my clothes I left on the bench right in front of my locker, an envelope has been tucked into my shoe.
There’s almost three hundred pounds in there, which is way too much.
There’s also a yellow Post-it stuck to the top of the stack of notes.
Don’t argue with me, kid. Take it and look after yourself. Come back if you need to. John.
I look around but, of course, the stoic old git is nowhere to be found. Smiling softly at his kindness and generosity, I tuck the cash into the inside pocket of my backpack, taking the envelope and digging out a pencil from my art box.
Thank you for everything, John. You’ll never know what it’s meant to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you everything at first, but maybe one day, I’ll be able to pay you back. Take care of yourself, old man. Love Corey.
Dressing quickly, I check my locker to make sure I have everything and grab my backpack before heading out of the gym, with a slight detour to John’s decidedly empty office to deliver the note.
I push open the heavy exterior door and am immediately hit in the face with icy rain.
For fuck’s sake. I couldn’t get a break tonight?
I lock up and post the key back through the letterbox, then rush through town to the roundabout on the ring-road I’ve been calling home.
When there’s a gap in the traffic, I dash to the small hill in the middle of the roundabout and am soon sheltered by the copse of trees.
When I get inside my tent for what is hopefully the last time, I snuggle down quickly into my sleeping bag and try to warm up.
I wish I felt worse about lying to Rain about sleeping in a shelter most nights, although technically I am in a type of shelter, just not the kind he’s probably imagining.
But a single man is sadly a very low priority for homeless shelters, and I’m not about to take a bed from someone who needs it more than I do.
I like camping, and if I keep it in my head that’s what I’ve been doing, and not sleeping rough, then I can just about manage to stay vaguely positive about the whole thing.
As though even that little bit of control over my perspective of my situation will be enough to keep me level.
Thankfully, I remembered to wrap my sleeping bag in a plastic bin bag this morning, so at least it’s dry.
I wrap myself up as tightly as I can and try to get to sleep.
It may only be nine-thirty, but the sooner I get to sleep, the sooner I can get up and away from this cold, wet, half-life and finally make my way to Rain, and hopefully the rest of my life.
At least I know, despite what I may have said to Rain, he’s not my only friend.
Emma and John have more than proven themselves over the last few weeks, even if John did sneak out before I could say a proper goodbye.
Maybe I’m not the only one who finds it hard.
The relief I feel at knowing Rain’s OK wells up inside me, and the emotions I thought I’d purged earlier, once again spill over.
With sadness weighing me down at yet another ending, but a spring of hope in my gut at a new beginning, I cry myself to sleep.