Take My Breath Away by Ali Ryecart
Chapter Forty-Four
PERRY
“I said I can take you. There’s no need for a cab.”
“I’m not getting a cab. Alfie’s borrowed a car. He’s coming to collect me, and he’ll be here in a minute.”
With a large suitcase and a bin bag at my feet, my life with James is packed up and ready to go. I scoured the house to make sure I’d got everything. If there’s anything left it won’t be important and he can throw it away.
I look at my watch, willing Alfie to get here so I can leave this phase of my life behind. James is hovering, still and awkward like he’s a stranger in his own house.
“Perry…” His voice sounds so small, pathetic even, it’s not the voice of the man I know. Or knew. Thought I knew.
Fuck it. I rub my eyes, dry and gritty from a sleepless night.
“Perry?”
“What?” I snap, glaring at him. I have to snap, I have to glare because if I don’t I’ll cry.
“Please, if there’s anything I can do, any time, you’ve got to let me know.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. He’s done plenty, he’s done more than enough. I keep my gaze locked on to his and a red tide washes up over his face. There’s a part of me that wants him to squirm, but a bigger part only wants this to be over.
“If it’s easier for you,” he says quietly, “I’ll go out and—”
He’s interrupted by a long ring on the bell. It’s Alfie, I know it is, keeping his finger pressed to the button. I almost smile. Thank God for friends who act like twats.
I drag on my coat which has been lying on top of my suitcase, as I make for the door.
“Thanks Alfie,” I say quietly. “I’ll just get my stuff.” I jerk my head towards the sad little pile of belongings that represent my life in this house.
“I’ll get it.” Alfie pushes past me and I follow him back down the hallway, where James is still hovering.
Alfie doesn’t even acknowledge him as he picks up my things before striding back down the hallway and out of the house. I’m on his heels, and he hefts it all into the back of a large estate car, idling at the curb. For a moment I wonder who it belongs to because Alfie doesn’t have a motor.
“It’s Leo’s,” he says, answering my unspoken thought.
I wrack my dull and heavy brain, trying to remember who Leo is. Of course. Leo, the new man. The one Alfie’s decided to stay in London for. I make a mental note to pass on my thanks.
“You ready? Got everything?”
“Yes. Oh no, wait. Just a minute.” I may have everything, but there’s something I have to return because there’s no way I’ll be using it again.
The front door’s still wide open and James is standing in the hallway, exactly where I left him.
“Here.” Delving into my pocket, I pull out a set of keys.
I hold them out to him, but he only looks at them as though deciding whether or not he should take them. My heart, my fucking treacherous heart, picks up the beat in the sudden hope that he doesn’t.
He does, of course, because this is real life and not some crappy romance.
There’s no last minute change of heart, no last minute declaration of love, no last minute begging me to stay, there’s only quiet acceptance as he takes the keys I hold out to him. But it’s not quite that simple, as he wraps his palm around my hand and brings it to his lips to place a gentle kiss on my knuckles. I should drag my hand away, but I can’t. He looks up at me, his eyes sadder and duller than I’ve ever seen.
“I’m sorry.”
My throat’s frozen. I can’t talk. But what would I say if I could?
Turning, I walk away and James doesn’t follow. I close the door quietly, on the man I love and on the life that could have been.
* * *
It doesn’t take me long to get sorted out at Alfie’s. He’s my best friend, and he knows me well enough to leave me alone. I’m not in any great mood to dissect what’s happened with me and James and I don’t want to pick over the bones. What I need now is to look forward, not backward, but at the same time I don’t feel like doing much more than huddling in the corner and just losing myself in the TV or a book. Alfie gets it and, the good friend that he is, he lets me do just that.
For the first couple of nights he stays at the flat, keeping me quiet company, but he’s also been on the phone a lot to Leo and when I tell him to piss off and go and stay with him he gives me a sheepish grin. My own life might be a pile of steaming shit at the moment, but I don’t want that for anybody else. Even James. I don’t think I have the energy to hate him, even though it’s what I’m supposed to do.
I throw myself into my job even more so than normal, but after a few days of wallowing as soon as I get home, I tell myself it’s time to get Operation Perry up and running again.
It’s just gone three o’clock and my stomach rumbles, reminding me I’ve not yet taken a lunch break. I’m hungry yet I don’t feel much like eating, but I suppose I should pick at the sandwich I’ve brought in with me. Closing down the spreadsheet I’ve been working on, I pull up a list of Brighton estate agents, but there’s nothing new on the market, just the same grotty old places. With barely three weeks until Christmas, it’s probably not worth even looking until the New Year.
My heart lurches.
Christmas.
James had told me he always has a tree delivered, and I’d imagined we’d decorate it together. The wood burning stove crackling, mince pies and mulled wine…
The thought of Christmas and all its forced cheer and jollity turns my stomach, and I shove the sandwich away. I’ve always loved Christmas, always embraced it, but this year I want to bundle it into a box and drop it in the Thames. But it’s unavoidable, it’s a monster devouring everything in its path, even here at work.
The first of the corporate Christmas cards are starting to arrive and some of my workmates have even decorated their computers with various bits of Christmas tat. The office decorations and the tree will go up on Friday afternoon and then, in the evening, everybody will decamp for the office party to a smart nearby bar with a private function room. Everything’s been organised to within an inch of its life. I know, because I’m responsible for sorting it out. Elliot’s employees and their partners, although not many partners come, and a small handful of invited guests of Elliot’s, which has always included James.
This year I shan’t be going. I’ll go along ahead of time just to make sure there aren’t any last minute issues, and then I’m going to make myself scarce. I think it’s fair to say I’m not in the party mood.
“Perry? Can I have a quick word, please?”
I jump, and swing around. Elliot’s poking his head around his office door. Normally he would just ring through, and my heart drops because I already know what this is about.
In his office I sit down in the chair on the other side of the desk to him.
“I’m not going to beat about the bush. I know you and James have split up.”
Of course he does. The two of them are best friends. I haven’t missed the slightly awkward glances Elliot’s thrown my way over the last couple of days. He’s a good man and he was probably wondering whether or not he should say anything as, technically, my personal life doesn’t have anything to do with him. But, he’s also Elliot’s oldest friend and I was James’ partner even though you could have blinked and missed it.
“Yes, we have. It’s probably for the best. I don’t think we were very well matched.”
Elliot huffs and shakes his head. He’s scowling and he looks annoyed.
“He’s an idiot. I don’t know the details, he just told me you’ve parted. Nothing more. He’s done some stupid things in the past but this beats everything. I’m sorry Perry, I truly am.”
I don’t know what to do or say other than stare at him. Elliot’s a great boss but he’s always coolly professional. We never cross the line into talking about anything remotely personal and I’ve always been happy with that, so to hear him berate his oldest friend like this… I look down and smile.
“Thank you, for thinking he’s an idiot, but the truth is we’re just too different. What I want from life isn’t what he wants. I just hope he finds what it is he’s looking for.”
Which isn’t me.
“He had found it, if he’d just had the sense to see it.”
I start at Elliot’s words, as a little flair lights up in my heart. But no. Elliot’s talking from his own perspective, that of a man who’s happy and in love and looking forward to a life with the man of his dreams.
“So what’s happening now? Are you still looking for a place so you can start your own business?”
We’re back to the purely practical, and that’s fair enough because what I choose to do next affects my position here. Elliot certainly looks more at ease talking about this and, to be honest, so am I.
“Yes, I’m still determined to give it a go. If I don’t, I know I’ll always regret it. All those what ifs. And now seems the opportune time.”
Whilst I’ve got no ties, whilst I’m not involved with anybody…
Elliot nods, reading between the lines.
“I’m still looking in the vicinity of Brighton, because it’s not all about the business and striking out on my own. It never has been. It’s about starting completely afresh. Brighton’s the ideal, but I’m widening the net and there are one or two other places I’m happy to consider if Brighton doesn’t work out.” Which are also cheaper. Now that everything’s on my back, that’s no small consideration. “I’ll keep you informed of everything, so we can plan for my replacement.”
And you can maybe tell James…
Elliot nods but he doesn’t look happy. “I’m all for people starting up their own businesses. More should take the plunge and I completely support you and what you’re doing. If I can be of any help, in any way,” he says, his gaze steady on mine, making me understand he’s not just talking about my potential new venture, “don’t hesitate to let me know.”
We talk business for a little while, taking us back onto safe ground, before I retreat back to my own desk and bury myself in work so that I don’t have to think.
* * *
“I thought we could get in pizza, have a few beers and watch some porn.”
Alfie walks in from work seconds after I do. Despite how crap everything feels, I can’t not laugh. I look him up and down. My favourite shepherd and urban poet has turned into Mr. Corporate Accountant.
He knows why I’m laughing, and he glares at me.
“Thought it might cheer you up a bit,” he grumbles.
“It’s a nice thought and I do appreciate it, but you seem to forget I’ve seen some of your porn collection. Very hairy men dressed in thongs, stockings and tutus doesn’t really do it for me.”
“I was going through a phase.” Alfie tries to look affronted but it’s not very successful. “We can go for whatever you want. What makes you get hot and sweaty?”
Men with moss green eyes who wear fuck off three piece suits…but I guess that’s not the answer he’s looking for.
“I’m all for the pizza and the beer but can we shelve the porn? I’m really not in the mood.”
“You should be. Kind of get you back on track, you know?”
Alfie, my good friend. He may be way off track with the porn idea but his heart’s in the right place just as it’s always been, and I can’t help but wrap my arms around him.
“Hey, what’s this all about?”
“Oh, for being a twat. You know.”
Alfie chuckles before he disentangles himself from my death hold and phones up the order as I head off to get showered and changed.
“Here, have one of these,” he says, handing me a beer when I re-emerge. Flopping onto the sofa, I knock it back and close my eyes.
It’s Thursday evening, five days since I walked away from James. I tuck away the thought, refusing to keep count.
“… from him?”
“Hmm? What? Sorry, what was that?
“I said, have you heard anything? From James?”
So much for not thinking about James Campion.
“No, but then I don’t expect to. It’s not like we were together for long so there’s nothing much to unpack. You know, emotionally speaking.”
Lies, lies, and more lies.
“The man’s a fool to let you go.”
I shrug, and swallow the sudden very hard lump lodging in my throat.
“Maybe, but now we’ll never know.”
Alfie wraps a muscly arm around me and pulls me in, and I rest my head on his shoulder.
He doesn’t say anything, he just holds me. I’m grateful for his touch, almost as much as I am for his silence.
A few minutes later the pizza delivery guy arrives. We set up the boxes on the little coffee table in front of the telly. It reminds me of when we were students together, living in one crappy flat after another, eating pizza straight out the box and licking greasy fingers. It’s a nice, warming memory from a life that seems like it wasn’t as complicated as the one I’m living now.
Deep in my pocket my mobile pings, and so does my bloody heart. Every time it does, I think… What I know I shouldn’t think. I fish it out, and try to ignore my hammering heart.
“What’s that?” Alfie shifts over to look at the message. “Fuck me. Talk about silver lining.”
“Yeah.” I re-read the message, once, twice, three times.
The cash buyer on the bungalow has pulled out. The owners are desperate to sell and have slashed the price. It’s not just a bargain, they’re virtually giving it away, and I’m being given first refusal.
“Well, that’s a turn up. You better get your signature down on the dotted line, because I reckon you’re going to Brighton.”
