Betrayal

          “These people don’t know they’re born,” said Ed, at the top of Le Brevent, the mountain opposite Mont Blanc, across the valley of Chamonix. It was incredible to see so many people everywhere and so many unnatural buildings clustered together.

            We agreed to spend the night in Chamonix as a reward for completing the first of six stages of the walk.

            “How many miles is that section?” asked Ed. He never has any idea of mileages or directions, he lets me handle all of that and simply walks alongside, oblivious.

            “About 50.”

            “Fuck, we’re barely anywhere!”

            “This was your idea. Anyway, what are you going to do for the Return to Sender adventure?”

            “Well, that’s up to you, but I’m sticking to the no more adventures from French people rule. From now on let’s take our cue from books, since we’ve got plenty of those with us now, and no music to speak of it.”

            “Okay. Return to Sender can be a future challenge. In fact, when you return to England to have to ‘return’ to whomsoever is the ‘sender’ of the very next email you receive.”

            We went, therefore, to check our emails.

            “Here we are!” said Ed, a little triumphantly. “It’s Alice!”

            I looked and to my distinct disappointment it was true. She was emailing him. I restrained myself from reading the contents, I didn’t want to know. It seemed like… a betrayal. A betrayal of herself, that is.

            “Fine,” I muttered, and went to check my own messages. I had yet another friendly email from Annabell wishing me luck along the route and telling me how impressed she was with my resolve! I couldn’t believe. In a moment of madness, with Alice somehow in the back of my mind, though to what effect I couldn’t say, I decided to email Annabell back and ask her straight out where she stood with me, whether we could try again.

            As soon as I clicked send I choked, and I’ve been holding my breath ever since…

Big Girls Don't Cry

          I almost fell in love at first sight today. The very first image to materialise before my eyes as I woke was Sharona. She was so peaceful and silent, tanned skin framed by black hair on a white pillow. I couldn’t move, or even breathe, for fear for disturbing it. Even as I watched her though she woke up too. She blinked her deep emerald green eyes open and smiled at me.

            I ran away to make breakfast.

           

*

 

            “Who’s it gonna be?” we asked Ed, over breakfast. “Who will you make cry?”

            “Oh I don’t know,” he said, “maybe Alice…”

            “No!” I said, a little too vigorously. “I mean, haven’t you done that to her enough?”

            “Why are you always protecting her Tom?” he said, and looked significantly towards Sharona. She just sat there quietly.

            “It’s just cruel, that’s all.”

            “I’m not the one who came up with an idea to make a girl cry, Evans.”

            “Just think of someone else, would you?”

            “Maybe I’ll make you cry, since you’re being such a big girl!”

            But he capitulated, and we discussed the options.

            “No violence,” I said, “and no harassing small children either Ed.”

            “Check,” he said. “Listen, I’ve decided what I’ll do. We’ll all go out clubbing tonight and I’ll find some poor innocent girl, chat her up, and then pull her best mate. Should be a piece of cake.”

            “I’ve got just the place,” I said, recalling my old university days of such silliness, “Infernos in Clapham.”

            “Just one problem with that, Evans,” he said, “the girls at that place must be more than used to being screwed around.”

            “Or just screwed. Deal with it.”

            And so the night is on, we’re leaving shortly.

You Know Where They Take the Dead People, Right?

 

          Last Saturday night in Brighton, when we ran from the bar, I committed the last song playing to memory. It was ‘Hip Hop is Dead’ by Nas. This would create Ed’s next song-venture. We discussed it this morning and nothing obvious occurred. We listened carefully to the lyrics until Sharona spoke.

            “’Bodies in the morgue lie together’ – let’s use that line!” she said.

            “How do you propose we do that?” I asked.

            “We’ll find a morgue and Ed can go lie next to a body.”

            “Yeah,” I replied, “how hard can that be?”

            “That’s the spirit, Evans! I’m in,” said Ed.

            We started online, looking for a morgue but it’s surprisingly difficult. You can’t just type ‘morgue London’ into Google. We were drawing a total blank on it. Then I remembered that Robin used to work in the Royal Free Hospital in Hampstead, to earn money for his legal training, so I gave him a call. He agreed to meet us at the Roebuck pub opposite the hospital, but I didn’t tell him why.

            We were just leaving when Alice rang the doorbell. As I saw her I remembered with considerable embarrassment that I’d texted her last night and agreed to meet for lunch today. I’ve been trying to stay in touch with her since Ed dumped her; she’s such a sweet girl. I’d forgotten all about her though.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Ed asked, not amused to see her. I restrained him and explained. He shook his head in apparent pity at me. “You can’t leave well alone, can you Evans? So be it.”

Reluctantly he agreed that she could join us but in the awkwardness no one actually really explained what we were doing to her, and no one introduced her to Sharona who ended up putting on a brave display and doing it herself. Alice reacted to Sharona’s introduction shyly but politely.

 

*

 

Over a splendid lunch at the Roebuck Ed began questioning Robin.

“So you worked over there?”

“That’s true, many years ago now.”

“But you remember the place? You remember the layout?”

“I was just working in an administrative role.”

“Yes, but you know where they take dead people, right?”

Ever the master of tact, Ed. Robin became extremely reluctant at this stage and I tried to explain with some cock and bull story about Ed needing to describe the inside of a real morgue to his school kids! Can you imagine? It was the most transparent lie and Ed could hardly keep a straight face. Alice looked slightly concerned by this point.

            Robin didn’t like it at all but nonetheless, after lunch, he took us into the hospital and helped us find the morgue. We dodged a couple of doctors on the way in, pretending to be on our way elsewhere, with the elsewheres supplied by Robin. It was actually a very well lit place and not half so much like a horror film as might be suspected!

            We found a side room full of liquids and scalpels and decided to take a closer look. Ed told Alice and Robin to keep guard outside and make sure no one caught them. Neither of them looked at all impressed.

            Once inside Sharona looked at home. She wandered about lightly touching objects with fascination. Suddenly Ed yanked open a big metal door. Inside, amazingly, was a dead body. I froze, uncertain of what to do at the sight. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a dead body. Ed on the other hand didn’t appear in the least concerned. Worse, he actually managed to find space on the metal surface to sit himself down next to it.

            “What the hell are you doing?” I whispered, hoarsely.

            “Oh calm down,” he replied, in ordinary tones.

            Sharona walked around the other side of the surface and placed her hand, lightly, on the dead man’s hair. “Lie down,” she commanded Ed. He looked around at her and raised an eyebrow. He looked down at the body and for a moment hesitated. Then he did as he was told and lay down, sideways, alongside the body.

            “Guys,” I started, “I’m not sure about this at all. Maybe we’re taking this thing just a little too far.”

            “Sod that Evans,” said Ed, “just whip out your phone and take a picture before it’s too late!”

            “What, and create evidence of this insanity?”

            “Do it, Tom,” said Sharona.

            I started. There was an odd lilt in her tone. She looked altered somehow, almost high. Reluctantly I took out my phone and took a quick snap.

            “Now get off and let’s get the hell out of here!”

 

*

 

            Back outside the room Alice and Robin were gone. In silence we stalked uncomfortably out of the hospital. No words seemed appropriate.

            “What have we done?” I said, once we exited the place. No one replied.

            Alice sent me a text message shortly later.

            ‘Thanks for lunch. It was… unusual. x’

            Back home in the early evening I found Ed at the computer.

            “Let’s see what’s next,” he said.

            “Don’t you think we’ve done enough?” I asked.

            “You’ll get over it.”

            He brought up itunes with all our songs on it and typed ‘dead’ into the search box. Up came ‘Before I’m Dead’ by the Kidney Thieves.

            “It’s off the soundtrack to that vampire film isn’t it?” he said. “Just so long as it doesn’t involve morgues – maybe you’re right Evans, perhaps we shouldn’t go back there. Might get caught next time…”

 

Platonic Love

          I met Sharona and Ed for lunch today to take a break from working in the Temple. We talked about the Sisters venture.

            “Okay,” I said, “what are the options?”

            “Er… let’s see,” Ed replied, “Annabell? Scheherazade?” He was certainly being a prick.

            “Yeah, why not Alice, or Jane while we’re at it?”

            “Okay, do you guys actually know any girls you haven’t screwed?” Sharona asked.

            “Er…”

            “Oh, I know!” I said. “There’s this girl, Nicole, a good friend of mine who lives in Soho. You’ll really like her, she does graphic design for television.”

            And so it was sorted. We’re all meeting tomorrow night.

Splendid but not Comparable

          This morning I was busy working on a case in the library when I received a pleasant surprise. A senior barrister in Chambers called Timothy came in to see me. He explained that he had a complicated deception case in the crown court next week and he needed a junior to help him. I was to be the man! Apparently my clerks had noticed my dedication to the cause this week and recommended me! It just goes to show: treat life with the proper respect and it shall reward you. Perhaps Robin and my mother were right…

            Timothy explained the case to me. It sounded interesting enough. A gang had pretended to be tree surgeons and had approached various little old ladies and fleeced them for professional advice and treatment of the trees in their properties. Of course, in reality, the gang knew nothing about it and were just chainsawing down random trees.

            At the end of our chat Timothy stood to leave and looked across at me with the confident ease that all senior barristers seem to possess. “Why don’t you come over to my house for Sunday lunch this weekend Tom?”

            “Well of course,” I replied, “I’d be honoured.”

            “Excellent. We’ll have a splendid day. You can meet my wife’s daughter, she’s about your age… Yes. Splendid.” He nodded his head sagely for a moment and then retired.

 

*

 

            On the way back to the tube station this evening I happened to bump into Alice at Holborn on her way home from Central St. Martin’s. She looked delighted to see me and we agreed to go for a drink around the corner at a bar called Sway.

            We chatted away over a glass of wine and she spoke vividly about her art. She’s a student at the College and specialises in painting. I noticed, as she described her latest efforts to me, that she had flecks of red paint scattered amongst her careless strawberry blonde hair. She noticed me looking at her hair and shyly tucked it away behind her ear before continuing. I smiled absently and listened.

            We came to a hiatus in the conversation and Alice suddenly drew breath and looked at me. “I just wanted to ask,” she said, “how’s Ed doing?”

            I was sharply disappointed. We’d had a delightful drink together talking about her passions. She’d come alive. Now she looked nervous, ill at ease and insecure. And all because of Ed, even despite his treatment of her!

            “He’s fine,” I replied, gruffly and dismissively. “More importantly, how are you doing?”

            She sighed slightly. “I’m single.” She gazed away for a moment. “I just can’t seem to find the right man. None of them quite seem…”

            “Good enough?”

            “…comparable.”

            I left her shortly after this exchange. I felt angry at her and belligerent towards Ed. I decided to go to bed swiftly and avoid him altogether. He was not in and so I accomplished my plan easily and gladly.

Non-Sequitur

 

          At least I’m not Alice.

            Ed wasn’t in when I arrived home last night. He’d simply left a note saying he was out with friends. When I met him in the pub after work today he admitted that ‘friends’ were in fact Alice.

            “So does this mean you two are back together again now?”

            “Of course not.”

            “So, what? You nipped over for a friendly chat?”

            “Not exactly.”

            “So you… Did you…?”

            “Maybe.”

            “You did!”

            “Maybe.”

            “Ed, you have to stop this. Remember that abuse you gave Annabell for the way she behaved to me?”

            Ed didn’t reply.

            “Exactly. You know it’s wrong. Leave the poor girl alone.”

            “But that’s different. We men have to stick together. And besides, you’ve got to stop comparing your relationship with Annabell to this. Alice and I have never been together meaningfully.”

            “That’s not how she sees it.”

            “Fine. Whatever. More importantly, that barmaid keeps smiling at you every time she goes past…”

            Ed was referring to a blonde girl with a slender figure and a gorgeous smile. It was true, she had been smiling every time she passed. Briefly I was overcome with excitement: perhaps she liked me! On the other hand…

            “Barmaids are paid to smile at the customers. She’s just being friendly.”

            “You’re a fucking loser.”

            “Cheers, Ed.”

 

A Breakfast Scene

          When I got to Ed’s last night he was out! He’d left a note in an envelope addressed to me, with a key. The note read: Had an offer I couldn’t refuse. I let myself in and went to bed. In the darkness all the colour had drained from the world. Everything was a shade of grey.

 

*

 

            Upon walking into Ed’s kitchen this morning I got quite the shock. Alice was sitting there, looking cheerful and drinking coffee at the table. Her hair was ruffled and her clothes only loosely thrown on. She has thick waved chestnut hair, large dark eyes and a wide open mouth exhibiting perfect white teeth. For just a moment I was caught in admiration of her.

            “Morning Tom.”

            “Er… Morning. Is… er… everything okay?”

            “It’s fine now, Ed was just messing about the other day but he apologised last night.”

            I paused for thought. I was glad for Alice that Ed had turned it around, but something about it all sat very uncomfortably.

            “Doesn’t it bother you, though, what he did?”

            “Of course. But it’s Ed, right? This is the sort of thing he does.”

            “That doesn’t make it okay Alice.”

            She looked at me with appreciation. “You’re sweet Tom.”

            “I just felt for you, with everything that’s happened to me lately.”

            At this moment Ed walked in looking terrible, hungover. By contrast to Alice he looked haggard. He cares little for his appearance at the best of times, despite having admittedly rugged good looks and Norse looking blonde hair. He glanced at Alice with painful disgust and yet she smiled back at him with patient love. He shook his head slightly, looked at me and then turned back to Alice.

            “Get the hell out of my house, Alice.”

            “What?” I said. Alice looked horrified.

            “She heard me, I told her to get out. Go on, get out of my sight!”

            I was silenced. Alice started crying.

            “For god’s sake, just go. You’re embarrassing yourself. You can come collect your stuff later.”

            Alice got to her feet and staggered out, sobbing uncontrollably.

            “You’re an absolute monster Ed!”

            “I’m sorry, Tom, I shouldn’t have gone back to her, after my promise to you, but I was sorely in need of a fuck.”

            “Ed! That’s not what I mean! How can you treat her that way? I don’t care about myself.”

            “Look, Tom, not that it’s any of your business but I can do what I like. We were only together a short time and it was obvious to me that it wasn’t going to work out in the long term. So much the better, then, to end it earlier than later.”

            “But did you have to do it like that?”

            “Yes. This way she can hate me and there’s no chance of her blaming herself.”

            “Is that what you think?”

            “Yes.”

            He began to break eggs into a mug. I watched him, trying to make up my mind.

            “Fine.” I said, and went back to my room.

 

*

 

            In the late afternoon Ed came in to invite me to the pub. My anger at the morning’s scene had subsided and I felt I needed to get out. We went to the Fitzroy Tavern near Goodge Street and drank a copious amount of green ginger wine. I could swear that stuff is hallucinogenic. We had a delirious conversation that I can only half remember where a thousand incredible plans for the future were devised.

            At some point we suddenly found ourselves on top of a tall building near the BT tower, throwing coins at the windows of the opposite building to freak out the security guards there. I heard sirens and we made a break for it, sprinting recklessly down the fire escape stairs and onto the street. The police came around the corner and flashlights bathed us in white light. We ran for it and lost them.

            I’m back in bed now and scared to hell. I could lose my job over a thing like that. I need to sort myself out and calm down. Concentrate on what matters.

Alice

“Free will is an illusion. People always choose the perceived path of greatest pleasure.”

- Scott Adams

 

          Ed’s an English teacher now and I think he hates it. We got the same degree in the end: despite his best efforts, Ed did have a remarkable talent, and I worked hard. After that I told him I’d like to become a barrister and he scorned me. He was suddenly overcome with some kind of social conscience. He saw the law as an affront to common decency and morality, a self-serving set-up where only the lawyers ever won, while teaching was the key to a better future. He hated the privileged and the pretentious, lawyers, and deep down wanted to champion those with the same disadvantages he’d suffered.

            Now, however, two years later, he was becoming disillusioned, and resentful of the fact that teachers should be paid so little. It was yet another injustice handed down by those arrogant bastards in power who had no idea what it was like to really live in this country, making your own way. Of course, many of these politicians were once barristers and solicitors…

            And so, because Ed had his philosophies, I was forced to go to work today in a knock-off teacher’s suit.

 

*

 

            My offices are actually in central London, in the Temple, even though I moved out to Oxford with Annabell. She prosecutes there and so, in many ways, it made sense. Today, staying with Ed, I got back in the early afternoon, paperwork for the day complete.

            We chatted about Ed’s latest reading conquests for a while and then, in early evening he got up to cook me dinner. As he pushed a slab of beef around a frying pan he suddenly spoke, and changed topic.

            “I’ve been thinking. Since you’re single, I’d better be so too.”

            Ed had been dating a truly lovely girl called Alice for some months now. She was half Hungarian and half English. She had grown up in Hungary and still had a residual accent, though her English was perfect. Ed seems to have some kind of phobia of straight forward English girls; he hates them all. The only proper girlfriend he ever had is also the only English girl he’s ever dated, Jane. Personally I think it’s because English girls see straight through his confident arrogance to his awkward insecurities whereas foreign girls just see the strength and magnetism of him. Somehow, other subtleties are lost on them. Alice, I believe, saw it all, and really loved him. I thought she was perfect for him. I was therefore shocked by what he said.

            “Setting aside the fact that I’m not single, you can’t! Alice is wonderful!”

            “I disagree. She’s nothing special. In fact, I’m going to do it right now.”

            He took out his phone from his pocket and dialled a number. I sat in silent disbelief watching him.

            “Hello? Alice? Yes. I’m fine thanks. Yeah, listen, never mind all that right now, I’ve got something to say.”

            “Ed! What are you doing? You can’t…” I tried. He waved an angry hand in my direction.

            “Yes, sorry, that’s just Tom being an idiot. Right, listen to me. It’s not working out between us. I’m afraid we can’t see each other any more.”

            Ed took the phone from his ear and held it out in front of him, looking at it. I could hear no sound come from it. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow, shrugging his shoulders. “Good.” He said. “That’s that sorted then.” He hung up and smiled at me.

            I was horrified.

            “You can’t treat someone that way. Especially not Alice, she doesn’t deserve it.”

            “I can, Tom. You have to learn that life isn’t all about other people. You live inside your own skull and you can’t ever really get out. You can’t ever really connect to someone and see life through their eyes can you? So you’ve got to do what’s right for you.” He laughed, callously. A thought occurred to me.

            “You didn’t do it, did you? You’re just trying to teach me something. There was no one on the other end of that call!”

            “There was. I’ll prove it.” He dialled a number on the phone and handed it to me. The display read ‘Calling Alice’. It was ringing.

            “Hello! Ed? What was all that about?” She was crying.

            “Alice?” I said. “Is it you?”

            “Who’s that? Tom? Yes, it’s Alice. What’s Ed doing? Is this one of his silly jokes?”

            Ed had been listening closely. At this question he nudged me, smiled and shook his head. I looked at him with disgust.

            “No.” I exhaled. “It doesn’t seem to be a joke. Not in the sense that he doesn’t mean it anyway.”

            “Why? Everything was fine. I don’t understand.”

            “Alice.” I couldn’t think of anything to say. But I felt for her. After the week I’d had I really knew what she was going through. “I’m very sorry. Honestly. I thought you were lovely. I… I’ll talk to him.”

            She carried on sobbing and I hung up.

            “What are you doing?” I said. “Sometimes I really can’t understand you Ed.”

            “Ah well. I’d’ve thought you’d be happy. Grateful even.” He shrugged and thrust out his lower lip. “Have it your own way.” He carried on cooking, apparently unconcerned.

            I took out my own phone. I was filled with a sudden desire to run away from this place, and go back to Annabell, away from this monster. As I brought the screen up before my face I experienced the familiar pang of doomed hope that I might see a message or a missed call. Nothing. I was stuck.

            Inertia took hold and suddenly I was eating. It was getting later. I couldn’t go back to Annabell, that is, I can’t, until she understands what really matters and calls me.

            So I’m still here, in London.