Commitment Issues by Ali Ryecart

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Freddie

The last couple of weeks have been a whirlwind. My mum cried when I told her my news, my dad told me he’d known as soon as I called, without being told, because he’d felt it in his water, which was way more information than I wanted. Mum wrung a promise from me to come home for a few days, not that she had to wring very much, because there’s no way I’m leaving without seeing my family.

Cosmo dragged me out with a crowd of friends and I’d got totally and thoroughly pissed, and had to be poured into the back of a cab at the end of night. My Prof. even took me out to lunch.

Oh, but the bureaucracy. There are so many forms to be filled in. Accommodation. Finance. Orientation. What I’m going to be working on. Zoom meetings with the team. Zoom meetings with the Institute Director. Zoom meetings with the other recruit, earnest Randy from Pennsylvania. It’s exciting, exhilarating, scary. It’s everything I want.

Except it isn’t, anymore, because I don’t want to go.

Elliot and I have been tiptoeing around each other since I gave him the news. He’s pleased for me, I know he is, but there’s something restrained about him. His smiles are guarded, his touch cooler. We’ve had sex, plenty of sex, over the last couple of weeks, but that’s all it’s been. We’ve made each other come so hard we’ve both seen stars. But there’s been a fevered desperation to our coupling, and after, we’ve rolled away from each other, sneaking away almost guiltily to clean off, to shower alone. No cuddles, no gentle kisses, no falling asleep in each other’s arms.

We’ve not made love, we’ve had sex.

But that’s the deal I went in on, sex was at the heart of it. Except in these last couple of weeks, there’s been no heart. He’s retreating from me, I can feel it. When I go, I’ll be a good memory, but that’s all I’ll be, the breathing space and the sticking plaster which helped him to heal.

* * *

Waterstones on Gower Street is one of my favourite places in the world. No matter how crappy I’m feeling, immersing myself in the huge bookshop I know like the back of my hand, is a balm. I’ve been in here a lot, recently, yet somehow its magical healing properties no longer feel quite so potent.

Mooching around the Scandinavian History section, I’m looking for what might be new in, but there isn’t anything here I’ve not read before. I’ve called in on my way home — not to Elliot’s but Cosmo’s. We’re going out again, another bar, maybe even a club. He’s taken on the role of organising my many leaving drinks with focused, razor-sharp efficiency. I’m determined not to get so trashed tonight, but I said the same thing the last time we went out.

I make my way to the floor where most of the fiction books are, and look through all the latest offerings from the big-name crime authors, knowing that the £12.99 price tags are too much for me. Still, it doesn’t stop me looking and reading a little, and taking the odd surreptitious photo with my phone, when the booksellers aren’t around, so that I can have a look online later.

My nose is stuck in one book, and I’m so swept up in the story I’m wondering if I can shell out for the paperback, when a voice behind me I thought I’d never hear again says my name. The muscles in my neck, shoulders and back stiffen, but I turn on what I hope looks like a bright and sunny smile before I swing around. It’s time to play a role again, although this time there’s nothing clear cut and all the lines are blurred and fuzzy.

“Hello Gav,” I say, using the shortened version of his name that gets under his skin so much, but he doesn’t rise to the bait.

“Freddie. When I saw you, I had to come and say hello. Bookshops aren’t really my thing, if I’m honest. I’ve never been much of a reader, but I’m here to buy a gift for—well, for somebody.” He holds up the carrier bag. “Personally, I think a good craft gin would be so much better, but they asked for a particular book…” He shrugs his shoulders as though the idea of a book is incomprehensible. “So, how are you?”

His smile’s friendly enough, but I can’t help feeling like he’s caught me on the back foot.

“I’m fine.”

“Good, I’m glad. And what’re you doing here?”

“I came in to buy a bag of chips.” The words fly out of my mouth. It’s a fucking bookshop, for God sake. What does he think I’m doing here?

Gavin laughs. “Well, I asked for that, I suppose. Smart answer, but then you’re a student aren’t you? Elliot says you’re a clever boy.”

“Clever boy? Not really sure how I should take that.” I want to grind my teeth into dust, but instead I smile at him, playing make believe that this is just banter.

“On face value, I’d say. I was thinking of having a coffee, in the café here. It’s the only reason I ever come in here, if I’m honest. Would you like to join me?”

Erm, no, I don’t think so. Why the hell would he want to have coffee with me? I want to finish this, and finish it now.

“Thanks but I’ve got to go. I’m seeing Elliot.” I watch him, waiting for his reaction. It comes, but it’s not the one I’m expecting.

“Oh, right. I see.” His brows pull in and his lips twist into an embarrassed smile, and when he looks at me there’s something pitying in his eyes. What the fuck is he getting at, because he’s getting at something.

“You see what?”

“Ah, this is… How should I put it? Awkward? Yes, awkward. Look, you need to speak to Elliot. It’ll be better coming from him. Oh, Freddie, I’m so sorry.”

Gavin puts his arm out, whether to give my shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, or pat me on the head for the boy I am, but I knock his arm away, and he staggers back a step.

“Temper tantrums?” His voice is smooth, as if the last few seconds haven’t happened. “It’s not the type of thing Elliot would put up with for long.”

“What are you talking about?” I say, ignoring his jibe.

Gavin sighs, the pity back in his eyes, and I want to do more than knock his arm aside.

“He hasn’t told you, has he? About me and him?” His voice is sympathetic, apologetic, but the pity’s gone from his eyes. They’re hard and his smile’s turned to ice, and something heavy crushes deep in my chest. “We were together a long time, Freddie. We’ve got so much history. Ten years, it’s far too long to throw away as if it’s rubbish. And that’s exactly what we’re not going to do.”

“What? I don’t believe you.” No. No way. Elliot wouldn’t want this man back, ever.

Gavin says nothing, he just stares at me with ice in his eyes.

“No…” But it’s there, a tiny pinprick of doubt, piercing my certainty. “Elliot’s an honourable man. And proud. Why would he take you back after everything you did to him?”

“Yes, he’s honourable. And kind and thoughtful, as I’m sure you’ve found out. He’s waiting for the right time to tell you. Perhaps that’ll be tonight? I’m sorry, Freddie, he never meant to hurt you. But you and he, you can never be what Elliot and I were, and are, to each other. You do see that, don’t you? You were never more than a light distraction. It’s hard for you to hear, but it’s the truth.”

A distraction… a breathing space. My heart’s thumping a wild rhythm, and I clench my clammy hands into fists. I want to run as much as I want to bury my fists in his face. But I do neither because I can only stand and hear his words, and watch his smile.

“I knew what he was doing and I think deep down he did, too. He was punishing me. I deserved it. What I did it was terrible, it hurt us both, but it taught us a lesson in its own way.”

“You betrayed him. Lots of times. So why would he have you back?” Elliot doesn’t want this man, he said, but…

“I did. How can I deny it? I think it was, what do they call it? A cry for help.”

“What?” I splutter. I’d laugh if it were even remotely funny. “Since when was cheating on the man you were engaged to marry a cry for help? You’ve been watching too much daytime telly.”

“We had our problems, Freddie. We went through a bad patch. What I did, it was wrong, but I only saw that when it was too late. But we’ve both had time to think and reconsider. We’ve both had some breathing space, you could call it.”

Breathing space.

“I don’t believe you.” I do my best to inject conviction into my words, but a wave of nausea sweeps across me. Taking in a deep breath I draw myself up to my full height, revelling for a moment in my empty victory that I’m taller than Gavin. But I don’t feel very tall.

“You can believe what you want, but it’s the truth. Like I say, Elliot’s a kind and thoughtful man and he wouldn’t want to say or do anything he thinks might upset you. He’ll be gentle with you, he’ll let you down lightly, but let you down is exactly what he’ll do. Oh, Freddie,” he says on a sigh. “Touting you around in France, showing you off like some glittery accessory. It was a mistake. He realises that now.”

“I wasn’t touted around, as you put it. I was, and still am, his partner.” I want to believe my own words, I want to believe them so much. Gavin’s a vicious fucker, for all his simpering, sympathetic words, but something dark’s crawling up my spine, its claws are sharp and it won’t let go.

“Really? Is that what you believe? You were nothing more than Elliot’s stick to beat me with. How can I blame him? But he should never have used the wedding as his means, and he knows that. Marcus was beside himself with fury. His and Andrew’s wedding was a private affair, close friends only, yet Elliot showed up with you, a complete unknown. But it was too late to deal with, because you were there, so you had to be accommodated.”

“That’s not true. Everybody was polite and friendly. If I thought they were laughing at me or Elliot, I would’ve known. Like you say, I’m a clever boy.” I meet his eye, determined to not blink, because if everybody had been laughing at us, I would have known. I would.

And then I remember.

“You were supposed to be bringing somebody, but that all fell through at the last minute. So what’s the difference?”

“The difference, Freddie, is that my intended companion was not a twenty-four year old piece of arse. And so much fake news. It didn’t fall through, because there was nothing to fall through. The person who was supposed to attend with me is a good friend, and known to both Marcus and Andrew, but a situation arose that he couldn’t get out of. That’s why I was there on my own.” Gavin’s smile switches again. This time it’s all sad and droopy. How many fake smiles does this man have?

“You were nothing more than Elliot’s way of punishing me, because I’d hurt him more than I thought possible. But you see Freddie, when people have been together for a long time sometimes they take the other person for granted. And I took Elliot for granted, but he did the same with me. We drifted apart and I foolishly… Well, I embarked on a very short-lived and very ill-advised relationship. It woke me up and I think looking back it’s done us both a favour, because it’s made us realise what we had, and what we have to lose. We had a bump in the road Freddie, a very nasty bump in the road, but we steered our way around it. I’m sorry, I really am.”

“I don’t believe a word that’s come out of your mouth. But you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to ask him, and I know he’ll tell me the truth.” I say it with as much bravado as I can muster, and I watch Gavin, I watch him so fucking hard, as I wait for him to blink first. He doesn’t.

“Yes, you should. And soon. Then this whole charade can be put aside.”

I open my mouth, I close it and open it again, gaping like a bloody fish.

“Freddie, let me ask you something,” he says, lowering his voice, as though we’re about to share confidences. “Where did he tell you he was, recently, when he went away on business?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Elliot was away for five days. He’s often away, it’s the nature of his work. But where did he tell you he was? Oslo? He’s there an awful lot. Also Berlin and Frankfurt. Paris sometimes. But never, ever in Spain.”

All I can do is stare at him. Spain. Barcelona.

“Ah, I can see the penny’s beginning to drop. Barcelona. You do know we have a second home there, don’t you?”

I nod because it’s all I can do.

“We needed to talk, away from everything and everybody, so we arranged to meet at our apartment. He loves the city, we both do. It was invigorating, it gave us both a much-needed new lease of life, but more than that, it gave us perspective. It showed us what we were in danger of losing. We want to mend what we broke, we want to build bigger and better, higher and stronger. While you were pining for him, and you would have been because he’s worth pining for, Elliot and I were together, putting ourselves back on track. Reconciling. Reconciling very satisfactorily. It’s the truth, Freddie. You know it is. You’ve only to ask Elliot. He’ll corroborate everything I’ve just said.”

And he’s gone, without another word, and I’m starting to shake as I fall back against the bookshelves. I feel sick and lightheaded, and I suck in deep breaths to try and steady myself, and not puke up in the middle of the shop floor. Everything he said, I don’t want to believe a word of it, but…

Breathing space.

Elliot’s words, and now Gavin’s.