Commitment Issues by Ali Ryecart
Chapter Six
Elliot
“What have I done, Jasper? What the fuck have I done?”
Jasper, my mutt with arthritic back legs and more grey hairs than me, wriggles onto his back and offers up his pink tummy for a rub.
“You’re such a little tart but I can never resist your charms.” The dog answers with a yelp and a thump of his stubby tail.
Sometimes I think Jasper’s the only good thing to have come out of my relationship with Gavin. Four years ago, he’d come home with the dog, clearly not believing the adage that a dog wasn’t just for Christmas, and by New Year’s Eve he’d got bored with the four-legged scrap. I, by contrast, had fallen head over heels in love.
“You’ve been a lot more loyal than Gavin, haven’t you? Are you going to tell me what a fool I am? Or that asking a kid who’s young enough to be my son to play act at being my boyfriend is either a sign of advancing senility or a desperate act to recapture my youth? Hmm, are you, boy?”
Jasper squirms as I run my fingers across his tubby belly that feels like warm suede, and I can’t help but smile as his pink tongue lolls from the side of his mouth, a mouth that no longer has all the teeth it once had. He’s always such a loving little thing. Ugly, but loving. Ugly when he creeps onto the foot of my bed, where he knows he’s not supposed to go, and farts, but loving when he snuggles up on my lap.
“God alone knows what possessed me, but you won’t judge me will you? And what’s everybody going to think when I turn up with him?” I say, staring down at my wriggling, squirming dog as though I’m waiting for him to answer. “He’s so bloody young. Okay, some of them might think I’m one lucky bastard, but everybody else will think it’s some kind of pathetic attempt to reclaim my long-lost youth. Or that Freddie’s latched onto me like I’m his sugar daddy. Which he hasn’t, and I’m not. Why did I do it, Jas, why?”
I get up from the sofa and make my way to the kitchen, where I pull out another cold beer from the fridge. Jasper pads across with me, his back legs very stiff. Flipping the top off the bottle, I drink deep.
It’s early in the evening, and I’m home hours before I’d normally be. Because I never went back to the office. Instead, I’d telephoned Perry and told my very surprised Executive Assistant that I’d see him tomorrow. There’d been no point in going back to try and work because there was only one thing I could think about. Or someone.
Freddie.
Bright blond hair, pillowy lips, and deep hazel eyes shining green and gold. Just the thought of him makes my balls ache and my cock thicken. It’s been a long time since any man’s done that, and even longer since the now absent Gavin had. Why have I thrown all reason and good sense out of the window? Is it to do with basic, old fashioned lust? A man would have to be dead not to be attracted to Freddie, but it’s got to be so much more than that. He’d shown himself to be intelligent and honest, traits I admire and value. And quirky, because anybody who’s passionate about Viking studies shows a healthy disregard for the mainstream.
“Do you think I’m mad, Jas?”
Jasper cocks his head to the side, as though he’s considering my question. He’s a smart dog, ugly but smart, so he may very well decide to stand up on his rickety hind legs and talk to me. If he does, I’ll be a lot less surprised than by my agreement to go through with James’ ludicrous, juvenile plan.
“Or do you think this is some form of middle-aged male menopause? Do you think that’s why I’ve jumped in feet first?”
Because that’s not me. I don’t make irrational off-the-cuff decisions. I analyse, and think things through. I employ strategy. I take risks, because you have to in business, but those risks are calculated every inch of the way which means they’re not really risks at all, I suppose. This approach has served me well in my professional life, and I’ve taken the same approach in my personal life.
Bile coats my throat and for a moment I think I’m going to be sick. Cautious and calculated, staid and dull. The words Gavin threw at me. No spontaneity, no excitement. As boring as fuck. A boring fuck. I fumble to put the bottle down on the kitchen table, my shaking hand sending it toppling and rolling, and crashing to the floor.
A high-pitched yelp and a scurry of claws on the stone flagged floor.
Two big, accusatory eyes stare out of a furry face from the corner of the kitchen where Jasper’s basket sits.
“I’m sorry, boy, I didn’t mean to scare you. This is all James’ fault. I was perfectly happy to go on my own. Well, not perfectly happy, but you know what I mean. I could — I can — get through the wedding without any help from him. Interfering little runt. Gavin and I are both adults, and we’ll both be there for Andrew and Marcus. I mean,” I say, as I clear away the mess and chuck the newspaper-wrapped broken bottle into the recycling, “just because Gavin’ll be taking his new boyfriend, it doesn’t mean I have to have somebody hanging off my arm, does it? It’s not some kind of pissing contest between us. We’re not teenagers, for God’s sake.”
I glare at Jasper, as though expecting him to answer, but all he does is whine, bury his nose in his basket and clamp his paws to either side of his head as though he wants to drown out my monologue. And why shouldn’t he, because he’s heard me drone on about Gavin for weeks on end.
But… Freddie’s smart, with more than a hint of sass, and he’s jaw-droppingly good looking. More than good looking. And young. I groan. No more than twenty-three, or twenty-four at a push, to my fifty-two. I’m old enough to be his dad.
“Everybody’ll think he’s some kind of toy boy, and I’ll be a laughing stock.” I mutter to nobody and nothing but the air. Even Jasper’s decided that sleep’s preferable to my ramblings.
No, the idea has to be quashed before it goes any further. I’ve got my dignity, sometimes it feels like all I’ve got, and I’m not going to squander it. It’s not Freddie, it’s me. I snort… it’s not you, it’s me… I’ll call, tell him that, on reflection…
“Oh, fuck.” I pull out another beer, to add to the three I’ve already had.
I will call him, but not quite yet, because first I need to track James down, as the sod hasn’t returned any of the messages I’ve left on his phone. And I’m going to damn well make sure he coughs up that five hundred he’s promised Freddie. Five hundred plus.
Determined and fortified, I head back to the living room where my mobile is, and jab speed dial. This time, James picks up before the second ring.
“Once you met him, I knew you’d see sense,” James drawls.
“And good evening to you. And yes, I have seen sense. I’m going on my own to the wedding, just as I always intended.”
“What do you mean?” he says, all hint of upper-class drawl replaced by short, clipped tones. “But you’ve already agreed. Freddie told Cosmo, and Cosmo told me. It’d be a rather shabby trick to let down the boy at this stage.”
“The shabby trick was yours. And yes,” I say on a heavy sigh, “I did agree. But I’d lost sight of my sense, and now I’m seeing it again. I’m going to contact him to explain and no doubt he’ll be relieved.” Will he? My shoulders slump.
“So, you’re going to let down the poor boy?” I don’t miss the emphasis on poor. “You do know that he won’t be able to pay his bills? He’ll be forced out of his lodgings, with no other recourse but to sell himself on the streets of London. And it will all be your fault.”
I snort, and my eyes water as the beer I’ve just taken a mouthful of goes up my nose.
“I think that’s very unlikely,” I rasp, as I wipe the tears away. “Aren’t you forgetting that Cosmo, your cousin, is his landlord? I know Freddie has financial worries—”
“That you’ll be making worse by not having him accompany you. Picking up crumbs of work stacking rat poison, or haemorrhoid cream, or corn plasters or something equally as vile in a grubby corner shop—”
“It’s one of the country’s largest supermarkets, and besides,” I say, keeping my voice deadpan and even, which isn’t so easy after four beers, “he’s not going to lose out. In fact, he’s going to benefit by rather more than the paltry five hundred you promised. You, my friend, will be arranging to pay him double.”
“What?”
I whip the phone away from my ear just in time to prevent permanent damage to my eardrum.
“It serves you right for meddling. Whatever you may think, I have no qualms about being with Gavin and his new partner.” My grip tightens on my phone.
Silence stretches along the airwaves, like a gob of virtual chewing gum.
“I don’t believe you.” James’ quiet words, so simple and direct, reach into my stomach and twist my guts. “This strength of character, or whatever you wish to call it, is misplaced. It won’t do you any favours, not this time.”
“It’s got nothing to do with strength of character. I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
James answers with a heavy sigh. “I know what I’m talking about because I know you, better sometimes than you know yourself. I’ve no doubt you’ll act like the mature, reasonable adult you are. But you’re going to be thrust back into Gavin’s company, and he most definitely is not mature and reasonable. The man is vain and shallow, and will take great delight in flaunting—”
“Thank you, I think I’ve got the message.”
“Then heed it. Please, Elliot, don’t go alone. Just think about it, at least for tonight, before you make any hasty decision.”
“Thought that was what I’d already done.” I stare down at the beer I’m holding. My fourth, when I’m not much of a drinker. No wonder I have the first pinch of a headache. I need a clear head if I’m going to let Freddie down.
“Okay, I’ll leave it for tonight. But my decision won’t have changed in the morning. I’m still going to tell him I’ve reconsidered, and that you’re still going to pay him.”
“Of course I will,” James says, with no trace of his earlier outraged surprise.
“A thousand,” I say, and smile. He doesn’t argue. It’s small change to James, but a fortune to Freddie.
We end the call soon after, and I slump back into the sofa’s soft cushions and close my eyes. I must have dozed off, because suddenly I’m jerking upright, my heart hammering in my chest, as my mobile, which I’m still clutching, vibrates and buzzes in my hand, followed by a sharp ping before it goes quiet.
I stare down at the message, and groan, because whatever promise I made to James, the decision’s just been made for me.
