Chapter 22
MICHAEL
A tapping sound wakes me up. My eyes blink as light leaks through the gap in the curtains that never bleedin’ close properly.
I shut my eyes and try to drift off to sleep, but there it is again.
It takes me a moment. I know what the sound is.
I climb down the bunk bed ladder, pull back the curtain and there, as I knew she would be, is Kate. Just like when we were teens.
I crack open the window, looking down. ‘What are you doing?’ I ask, trying to keep my voice down.
‘I need to talk to you!’ she says in a very loud whisper.
‘Now?’ I cut a glance at Carl as he mutters in his sleep.
‘Now.’
I nod, old instincts kicking in as I throw on an Echo and the Bunnymen T-shirt, pull up a pair of jeans and open my bedroom door quietly.
Carl rolls over, his arse sticking up in the air.
Would it kill him to wear a pair of boxers?
I sneak through without opening the door far enough to squeak, dodge the creaky stair and tread through the kitchen.
Toast crumbs from the cool lino stick to my feet as I open the back door.
Kate’s long blonde hair is pulled back, smudges of mascara beneath her eyes.
I open the door wider and she comes inside.
I lock the door quietly behind her. She paces a few steps, hands ringing, her lips pushed together like she’s trying to keep inside what has brought her to my door at three in the morning.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, leaning against the kitchen counter.
‘I…’ Tears fill her eyes and she shakes her head.
I step towards her, my arms pulling her close.
She smells like she always does, of Vosene shampoo and just…
Kate. I rest my chin on top of her head, my hands rubbing her warm back beneath her white shirt.
She doesn’t say anything for a while, but her shoulders are shaking.
I bring my arms tighter around her until the tears have subsided.
She steps back, looking at where her mascara is smudged against my T-shirt.
‘Sorry.’ She wafts her hand towards the imprint.
‘Nowt to fret about, Mam’ll have some magic fix for getting that out.’ She sits down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs.
‘Brew?’ I ask.
‘Got anything stronger?’
I need to go to work in about three hours, so I click the kettle, and retrieve Dad’s stash from behind the cornflakes, pouring her an inch into a glass. She knocks it back in one, like she’s necking Buttercup Syrup, and reaches for the bottle.
‘Steady on, ey?’ I sit opposite her and take her cold hand in mine, my thumb rubbing over hers. ‘Want to tell me what’s going on?’
‘Danny proposed.’ The words come out of her as though she’s just said I’ve got three months to live.
‘Was the ring that bad?’ I try to lighten the atmosphere. It doesn’t land. It’s like she doesn’t even hear me. ‘So what did you say?’
She swallows, tears brimming. ‘Nothing. Not at first, and then there was this awful silence, Mike… and the look on his face…’ She trails off, takes her hand from mine, clutching the glass between her palms. I don’t say anything, I just wait for her to continue.
‘I thought… I thought that getting married, eventually having my own shop, being close to my family, to you, same familiar faces, was what I wanted. But then when he said the words, it was as if this massive crack opened up inside, and I just felt like I was falling, like instead of it being the best moment in my life I’d just been handed a death sentence. ’
The kettle clicks off. I give her hands a squeeze and make two cuppas; even though Kate thinks she needs whiskey right now, I know that nothing good is going to come from hitting the hard stuff before she’s even had a bowl of Ready Brek.
I push one towards her, sitting back down.
She cradles the cup in her hands, staring at the steam rising into the air.
‘Oh God, Mike, what have I done?’
The quiet hum of the fridge is loud in the early morning quiet.
I pull at my earlobe, trying to think before I open my big gob and say the wrong thing.
I’ve never been Danny’s biggest fan, but they’ve been together for a long time, have a house together, plans for the future. Just like me and Sarah had.
‘I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to answer me quickly so it’s just a gut reaction, OK? Are you relieved?’
Her eyes fill with tears again and she gives me this little nod.
‘Then you’ve done the right thing.’
We don’t speak for a while, both of us sipping our tea. The only sound is the clock on the wall, counting our lives away. Her eyes land on the envelope, half covered with a tea towel.
‘You’re still writing to her?’ she asks, eyebrows furrowing.
‘Aye…’
‘But the address…’
‘I know.’ For a second, I see a flash of Alice, her blue dress hugging her neck. I blink. ‘I feel like we’ve got unfinished business…’ I trail off, a flush of embarrassment creeping up my throat.
‘Aye, I s’pose you do.’
She sniffs, straightens in her seat, shakes her head. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘OK, just for a second, let’s pretend money is no object, let’s say you’ve just won the pools. What would you want to do?’
She snorts, ‘Now you’re talking daft.’ She leans back, inhales, and lets a long, slow breath out.
‘Go on… what would you do?’
‘Travel, maybe?’
‘Where would you go?’
‘If money wasn’t a problem? Everywhere,’ she says in a long breath.
‘Well, that’s a start, isn’t it?’
She sniffs, wipes her nose on the back of her hand. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t just leave here and go travelling around the world, can I?’
‘Why not? What’s stopping you?’
‘Well, money, for one thing. And I have a job, responsibilities…’
‘Aye, and I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but we’re not getting any younger, and if you want to travel then travel, don’t put aside your dreams. Ask yourself what’s keeping you here?’
She looks at me then, something unreadable in her expression. There’s a pulling sensation in my gut, a sharp tug, and I have to remind myself to breathe. Then she looks away, eyes focusing on the clock ticking away on the wall.
‘For what it’s worth…’ My voice sounds tight. I clear my throat. ‘I think you did the right thing.’
‘Breaking Danny’s heart? Throwing away the best part of four years of my life?’
‘How’d he take it?’
‘How d’you think?’ She lets out a shaky laugh.
‘He’d cooked dinner, well, tried to… He’d lit candles and he had this great big soppy smile on his face when he got down on one knee like someone off Dallas, and then I just…
froze. Jesus.’ She closes her eyes and rubs her forehead.
‘I think I already knew. Knew it wasn’t right.
’ Her eyes open, she leans forward on the table, cupping her face.
‘I had reservations. As soon as I saw the ring… I should have said something before, but I just told myself it was cold feet, that when he actually asked the question that I’d say yes.
He was devastated, Mike, then angry, confused… ’
‘He’ll get over it, you know. When Sarah broke up with me, I had no idea how I was going to carry on, what I was going to do, but it was the right thing. We wanted different things and it would never have worked, not really.’
She lifts her eyes, her focus steady now.
‘And now look at you, one foot out of the door, off to live in the city.’
‘Not yet. It’ll be a bloody miracle if they let me get one boot cap in, but at least I’ll always know that I gave it a shot.’
‘You’ll get in.’
‘It’s a long shot.’
‘You’ll get in,’ she repeats, firmer this time.
We stay there, watching the dawn lift the shadows from the wall… the longest day of the year fast approaching. Our hands are almost touching. We’ve sat at this table together more times than I could ever count, so why does this time feel so different?