Chapter 37
The next day, as Gavin and I walk to the rescheduled union meeting, seems as good a time as any to let Gavin know our period of working together will be, well, could be, coming to an end.
We’re holding hands, and I’m surprised as I always am at the size of their palm in mine.
That it’s possible to take up so much space is foreign to me; I think I would like it.
To get us onto the topic of work, I unsubtly swerve our chat away from trying to remember if the Hamilton Town House Library used to have one or two stuffed cows next to the reference section when we were children.
Neither of us is willing to give in to the possibility that we are wrong, and I don’t want a silly argument to be lingering when we see Amara and Nicol.
‘Brian’s been acting a bit funny recently, do you not think? ’
‘I would say no funnier than usual.’
‘Maybe spooked from the police bothering him?’
‘I doubt it. The man confidently goes around living a double life that would cause most normal people to crack. That he’s so fine all the time given what he’s up to is the real concern.’
‘I guess that’s the kind of insight I don’t have, won’t ever have when I’m only working there for the short term.’ When they don’t bite to this hint, I continue, ‘Because I’m not going to work there much longer.’
‘Yeah, yeah. I know.’ Gavin’s dismissiveness annoys me but I don’t let on.
‘I have a job interview tomorrow.’ Gavin stops. I get a step ahead of them before my body registers they’re not moving and so I stop, too. ‘Is it really that much of a surprise?’
‘I know it’s not your dream job, but I thought you at least liked being with me all day.
I like being with you all day.’ They stumble over that second ‘like’ in a way that makes me wonder if they wanted to say ‘love’ but bottled it.
A shame. Coming into this union meeting on the high of having the love between us confirmed would give me an extra boost, but I know the declaration is coming, and even though it hasn’t been said, it doesn’t stop the love already being there between us.
‘I do. Of course I do. If we’re going to last for the long term, which is what we both want – isn’t it?
’ A soft smile crosses their lips here. ‘Then we need separate lives. It’s great to be together constantly, but we don’t want to endanger this special connection we have by getting bored with one another.
’ I pull them close and kiss them deeply, as if the further my tongue can enter their skull the more sincere what I’ve said is.
We resume our journey with Gavin saying a tirade of things to boost my confidence for my interview under the impression I require them.
‘You are amazing, of course you’ll get it.
I mean look at all you’ve achieved at our work, and you hate it – well, our clientele.
Not me hopefully.’ They chuckle to themself, but only for as long as it takes for them to get more breath to keep talking.
‘I’m sorry for being a bit miffed you want to move on when you mentioned it.
Over the last few days I’ve been thinking quite intensely about what you’ve done for me, for my life, since we met.
How what we have has changed so much for me. ’
My levels of observation are pretty good, I think, yet I’m struggling to pull from my brain what exactly it is Gavin is going on about. ‘Really?’
‘Absolutely. I want you to know I see you and what you’ve done for me and I am so grateful for it all.’ We stop outside the entrance to the block of flats Amara and Nicol live in, then they hold my shoulders at arm’s length and say, eyeballing me the entire time, ‘Thank you. For everything.’
All I can offer in response is, ‘You’re welcome.’
Locating the intercom takes a second. I’ve Google Street Viewed this building more times than I can count, imagining the two of them laughing together about what a stupid piece of shit I am, but the picture clarity on Google wasn’t high enough to know exactly which button is theirs.
Some flats have tiny slips of paper with last names of the occupants on them next to their buzzer.
Their flat, the penthouse no less, has no such information attributed to it.
There is meaning in that I’m sure, but there isn’t time to find it.
As soon as I buzz we’re permitted entry, no questions asked.
In the lift, I use the mirrored wall to confirm I look good then move my attention to Gavin.
Their moustache is a touch lopsided from the smooching.
I fix the hair above their lip, finishing it off with a gentle kiss as the lift doors open.
Nicol sees it, he’s waiting for us. I couldn’t have planned it better.
This is not a game. If it were, I’ve already won it by finding my power, being all I can be, etc, etc.
Still, if tonight were a game then I’ve just scored in the opening seconds. Me 1 – Amara and Nicol 0.
It doesn’t feel as triumphant as it should.
Nicol’s eyes are vacant, elsewhere, his mouth open in a way I’ve only seen before when he was asleep.
He rubs the back of his neck, stuttering the start of words that don’t fully form while I notice the sharp edge of his black shirt’s collar.
Finally, what he’s been trying to say comes out of him.
‘Thank you for all you’ve done to help us fight the good fight. I wanted to catch you both before you go in to warn you it’s quite a weird vibe tonight. You might not want to hang around, so you guys can go first.’
This statement has me wanting to ask many questions, the top one being, Am I the weird vibe? Are you so pathetic you can’t be around me when I’m happy? But before I can say anything Nicol is leading us to the flat.
It makes sense that this is where union meetings are held.
It’s roomy enough for twenty or so people to stand or sit on the various sofas and surfaces but gives everyone a privacy that wouldn’t exist in a church hall or a pub lounge.
I see the spiral staircase at the end of the room that leads upstairs to the two bedrooms and one bathroom.
I know this because obviously, obviously, I looked at pictures of the interior online, too.
It’s all very bland, but what else can you expect when you rent?
The thing that strikes me most is the vibe Nicol warned us about – he’s not wrong.
Where I had expected an orderly, efficient, business-like air to the proceedings, this is far more emotional.
People are huddled close together, hugging and talking in hushed tones, cuddling one another.
Amara is flitting between the groups, asking if anyone needs a drink, waving a platter of sandwiches around making sure everyone is fed.
‘Who,’ Gavin asks, the source of the vibe becoming clear, ‘has died?’
An L-shaped black leather sofa faces a large flatscreen TV, which is hung on the wall.
Nicol previously believed a telly being displayed like art was tacky and lowbrow.
But then I used to think murder was always inexcusable.
The screen flicks into life; the separate little groups use this as their cue to assemble as one.
Gavin and I hang back, to the side of proceedings behind the kitchen island.
The union’s logo appears. Amara has unburdened herself of her platter and positions herself in the centre of the area everyone is looking towards.
She claps her hands in front of her crotch preparing to speak, and then instead of saying anything she breaks into sobs.
Nicol cuts through the crowd to stand behind her, rubbing her back.
Whether she means to or not, Amara casts a look over to me as Nicol touches her, a sheepish sort of guilt across her face. Me 2 – Amara and Nicol 0.
Amara snorts back her tears. This is the kind of emotion I never saw from her during our entire friendship.
She was not someone I would ever have described as a crier.
I genuinely didn’t know she was capable of it until I rang her the day she and Nicol absconded, confused as to where all of her things and half of the contents of the flat had gone.
If telling me what she’d done was what made her last cry, fuck knows what atrocities have been committed this time to make her this emotional again in the same calendar year.
Her disgusting noises have cleared enough for her to speak.
‘Hi everyone. Thank you so very much for coming. That this many of you made the effort is really touching. I know if Haz could see what an impact he’d had, how loved he was, he would have been in an even bigger state than me.’ She blows her nose into a raggedy paper tissue.
‘After finding out he’d died, been murdered–’
Amara breaks down fully here, puts her head into Nicol’s chest and cries and cries.
She gives me no guilty glances now. Does that give her a point?
I decide no. In among the crowd a few people wipe away tears from their eyes.
The wanton display of emotion doesn’t appear to be embarrassing anyone except me.
The union’s logo is replaced by a picture that, given the context, I understand to be of this Haz man at a rally holding a banner that says HOLD LANDLORDS ACCOUNTABLE.
Haz is not a stranger, although I know him by his two other names: Harry, aka Henry Hamilton.
If Harry had something to do with here, then was he not a baddie? If he wasn’t evil then that makes me… No. Harry going was the right thing. It has to have been. Amara keeps crying, and I notice the snaking red flush up Nicol’s neck, which happens when he’s annoyed. He picks up the speech.
‘I think what Amara’s trying to say is Haz would want us to keep on track with the cause. So we’ll have a regular meeting and then make time at the end to reminisce about the great man he was.’
‘Hear hear,’ a grizzly wee man agrees, hoisting a bottle of beer to the sky.
‘But first we’re going to get down to business. We’ve got two guests with us tonight.’
With his arms wrapped around Amara, Nicol has to nod in the direction of Gavin and me to introduce us. Gavin gives a little salute to the group and I say, ‘Hi,’ at too low a volume. For this, Amara and Nicol get a point, making it 2 – 1, because we’ve let ourselves down.
‘So they’re going to give us the rundown on Heather Gray’s business.
’ Someone boos at the mention of Heather’s name and is shushed by someone else.
‘You all won’t be surprised to learn it’s as bad as we suspected.
’ We wait for this half an introduction to be rounded off with a final comment; it’s not.
There’s a small smattering of applause as we make our way to the centre of the floor.
My steps are like those I took after all those hours on the treadmill waiting for Pete – unreal, yet propelling me forward.
Nicol tries to move to let us through but gets in the way instead.
I don’t cede any land to him; he has to shuffle himself and Amara to the side to clear our path.
‘A gentleman, thank you,’ I say. He flinches from my words.
Having an audience mutes whatever cutting response he would like to give me. That’s another point. 3 – 1. I win.