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Authors: Mike Gayle

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The Importance of Being a Bachelor (31 page)

BOOK: The Importance of Being a Bachelor
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‘I don’t want to come in, OK?’ He sat down on the edge of the pavement with his head in his hands. ‘This was about you and Luke, wasn’t it?’ He looked up at her expectantly. ‘It’s all about Luke.’

Cassie sat down next to him. ‘I’m sorry, Russ, honestly I am. You must think I’m the world’s worst bitch. I don’t even know myself why I called you tonight . . . I wasn’t thinking it through. It’s just that . . . well . . . I met Luke earlier today. We had a massive row and . . . and . . . I just got sick and tired of all the toing and froing he and I have been doing. I just wanted to draw a line underneath us once and for all—’

‘And you thought you’d use me to do it? But I really cared about you, Cass!’

‘I know,’ she said quietly. ‘What I’ve done is unforgivable.’

‘You don’t get it. That kiss . . . that day when I kissed you in the park. It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing. Cass, I have loved you for the longest time. Ever since that night when you first meet Luke I’ve been mad about you. There have been times when all I could think about was you. So don’t tell me what you did was unforgivable. I know it’s unforgivable because I’m the one who won’t be doing the forgiving.’ He was about to walk away when something made him stop. He looked across the road and standing next to a car with Susie and Steve in it and looking for all the world as though her heart was breaking in two was Angie.

‘That’s different.’

The list of things on Adam’s mind as he lay in bed that Sunday morning thinking about the day ahead was long – very long – from the stack of invoices on the desk in his office at BlueBar through to the thirty or so voicemail messages currently on his phone that he had yet to listen to let alone answer. But above all these problems hovered one he couldn’t ignore: the fact that today was Steph’s deadline.

Even though nothing during the last seven days had changed his mind, Adam was still keenly aware of the deadline. Was he making the mistake of his life? Didn’t it make more sense to live alone than constantly in fear that he would mess things up? Yet Steph had seemed so sure, so convinced of her position that Adam couldn’t dismiss it out of hand even though he wished he could.

Making his way downstairs and into the kitchen, Adam came face to face with the other thing on his mind which he had been hoping had been a figment of his imagination.

‘I didn’t dream it then,’ said Adam, looking over at Russell who was sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of hot buttered toast and a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. ‘You really did turn up at my house at four o’clock in the morning looking for a place to stay?’

Russell took a large bite of his toast. ‘I’ll be out of your way as soon as I can, OK?’

‘There’s no rush,’ said Adam, making himself a coffee. ‘It’s not like I’m not used to having family members as house guests these days. Anyway, now that you’ve slept on it are you going to tell me what’s happened or are you going to make me piece it together myself?’

‘Me and Angie had a bit of a row.’

‘I’d guessed that much. What about?’

Russell didn’t reply. Adam decided he would help him out. ‘Would it by any chance have been about Cassie?’

Russell looked up, confused, guilty. ‘Why would you say that? Who’s been talking to you? Did Angie ring you? What’s she been saying? Whatever you’ve heard it’s not true, OK?’

‘So you’re not and have never been in love with Cass?’

‘Of course not!’ Russell walked over to Adam as though the very act of positioning himself in closer proximity to his brother made his case more convincing. ‘Is that what Angie has been saying? That I’m in love with Cassie? She’s mad. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. All that happened is we had a row and Angie . . . well Angie is a bit of a drama queen to say the least.’

‘Have you finished?’ asked Adam. Russell looked at him blankly. ‘Look mate, Angie hasn’t been in touch with me, and just for the record, even if she had, your little display of amateur dramatics there wouldn’t have convinced me in the least.’

‘I don’t get it. How do you . . . ?’

‘I’ve known for ages, mate. No one told me, no one had to tell me. It was obvious.’

‘How obvious? Obvious enough for Luke to know?’

Adam put his hands on Russell’s shoulders. ‘Calm down, OK? Obvious to me but no one else has mentioned it so I’m guessing the only people who know are you, me and Angie.’

Russell sat down again. ‘Nope, Cassie knows too. Ad, this is a mess. A real mess.’

Adam stared at Luke in disbelief. ‘What have you done, Russ? How does Cassie know?’

‘I met up with her a while ago. She wanted to talk about how things were with her and Luke and to cut a long and extremely embarrassing story short I tried to kiss her and she ran a mile.’

‘And Angie found out about this?’

Luke shook his head sheepishly. ‘No, she didn’t know anything about it and I regretted it straight away. It was stupid, Ad, really stupid but then last night Cassie asked me to meet her at some bar over in Didsbury. So I lied to Angie and told her I was going out with you and Luke but I went to meet Cassie. I didn’t know what she wanted. I just knew I had to go. She’d had some kind of row with Luke and was drunk enough to be considering using me as a way of getting back at him . . . and before you say anything nothing happened. And nothing would have happened. She was just angry, that’s all.’

‘So where does Angie come into it?’

‘When I arrived at the bar I bumped into a couple of Angie’s mates. I’m guessing texts were sent, conclusions were jumped to and soon enough Angie was fully up to date with the fact I had lied about where I was going. Her mates must have gone and picked her up and she must have followed me back to Cass’s house just to make sure she hadn’t got the wrong end of the stick.’

‘But nothing happened with you and Cass?’

‘Nothing at all. And that’s what I tried to tell Angie. But when her mates drove off and she wouldn’t answer her phone the only thing to do was head back to the flat and hope she would talk to me there.’

‘And she wouldn’t let you in which is why you came to mine?’

Russell nodded. ‘Her phone was switched off and she wouldn’t open the door. It was a choice between sleeping in the communal hallway or coming over to yours.’

‘And how do you think she’ll be now? If you explain will things be OK?’

Russell shook his head. ‘Not a chance. I lied about meeting up with Cass. That’s as much evidence as she needs. Her catching me in the middle of an embrace was just the icing on the cake. The thing is, Angie knows . . . everything about Cass and how I felt about her and she always has done. It’s the price you pay for turning a friendship into something more: you end up being more exposed than you’d ever be otherwise. When we were just friends I never hid anything from her because there was never a reason to. And then I lied and worse still I got caught out. She won’t have anything to do with me now, Ad, and the thing that really hurts is I haven’t just lost a girlfriend I’ve lost my best mate too.’

‘Once maybe, but not any more.’

Russell was at the flat. After knocking loudly enough to wake at least one of the neighbours he finally let himself in and after standing in the hallway calling Angie’s name and listening for sounds of occupation he came to the conclusion that she was either not in or else was lurking with some kind of implement in her hand ready to brain him the moment that she saw the opportunity. Of the two options Russell preferred the latter, reasoning that perhaps if the blows she struck inflicted enough damage she might:

 

a) feel better about herself

b) feel enough remorse to make her forgive him.

 

Bracing himself as best he could he tentatively ventured into the flat checking first the living room, quickly followed by the kitchen (plates still in sink but nothing out of the ordinary), the bathroom (no sign of a shower), the bedroom (evidence that she had at least slept in there at some point) and finally the airing cupboard (just on the off chance). Russell was disappointed to discover no sign of Angie. Had she gone away? He narrowed it down to a couple of educated guesses: her friend Katie’s house or her parents’ place in Chester. As Russell stared at the empty beer bottles from the night before still sitting on the coffee table, it occurred to him that a few months ago, had Angie felt angry and hurt and in need of someone to talk to, she would have turned to him. Right now she would have been cuddled up in his arms listening to him reassure her that everything would be all right.

Russell called her mobile again and although it rang out (so at least it was no longer switched off) she still didn’t answer it (meaning either she couldn’t hear it or was choosing to ignore it) and it went straight through to voicemail. Russell decided against leaving a message. Twenty seconds later he decided that perhaps he ought to leave a message after all and called her back. With his phone pressed up against his ear he began mentally preparing the message when he noticed something odd: he could hear (albeit faintly) Angie’s phone ringing nearby. It had to be hers. Angie was the only person in the world who could entertain having the opening bars of the world’s most annoying song (‘La Macarena’) set as her ring tone. Russell followed the sound of ‘La Macarena’ out of the living room and into the hallway. Hearing the sound of a key in the front door he realised that Angie was much closer to home than he had assumed.

Ignoring Russell as if he were a bin bag that she had forgotten to put out with the rest of the rubbish, Angie brushed past him, headed to the kitchen and slammed the door behind her. Slowly coming to the realisation that the longer he stood gawping at the wrong side of the door the worse it would be, Russell plucked up the courage to follow her.

Angie was leaning against the kitchen windowsill. She no longer looked quite as angry, just disappointed that he was still there.

‘I was hoping you’d gone,’ she said flatly.

‘Is that what you want?’

‘Why would you care what I want? From the evidence of last night it’s patently clear that what
you
want is far more important to you! You want Cassie? Then go ahead and have her because I don’t want anything more to do with you.’

‘It wasn’t like that, Ange, you have to believe me. She sent me a text asking me to meet her. She sounded like she was upset and I knew you’d never agree to my seeing her and so I lied.’

‘How many times?’

‘What?’

‘How many times have you lied to me?’

Was this the appropriate moment to tell the truth? Russell was pretty sure it wasn’t. ‘Last night was the only time. Really it was.’

‘Are you trying to tell me that last night was the first time you’ve seen Cassie since I asked you to stop spending time with her?’

‘Yes, yes of course.’

For a moment Russell thought he might be off the hook but then she held out her hand. ‘Give me your phone.’

Russell played for time. Had he deleted all of his texts to and from Cassie? ‘What for?’

‘What do you think I want it for? If you’re telling me the truth you won’t have any problem handing it over, will you?’

‘Fine.’ Russell reasoned it was worth the risk. With his heart thumping at double time he reached into his jacket pocket and handed the phone to Angie. ‘Here you go.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘I can’t believe you don’t trust me. I’m telling you the truth. Last night was the only time.’

‘We’ll see about that, won’t we?’ said Angie, apparently scrolling through for his text messages. When she pressed the call button and put the phone up to her ear Russell shifted uncomfortably.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Calling your girlfriend,’ replied Angie. ‘Cassie might be a lot of things but I’m pretty sure she’s not a liar. So do you know what? If I ask her how many times she’s seen you she, unlike you, will tell me the truth.’

‘OK, stop!’ said Russell, closing his eyes as he surrendered with both hands aloft. ‘Put down the phone and I’ll tell you everything.’

Angie shook her head. ‘You think I’d trust a word that comes out of your mouth? Once maybe, but not any more. You’re a liar, Russell Bachelor. A liar and a coward.’ Angie pressed the end call button and tossed the phone on the table. ‘I bet you never even told her about me, did you?’

‘Ange, please . . . just let me explain.’

‘Explain what exactly?’ snapped Angie. ‘How you met up with her behind my back? How you didn’t think you were doing anything wrong because you were only trying to be a friend? How you thought it would be OK to lie to me because I would never understand how you felt? How you thought this was something you had to do? Come on Russ, which bit do you want to explain or have I covered all the salient points?’

Russell looked down at the floor. ‘Ange, I know this is a mess. All I’m asking is that you understand that I never meant for any of this to happen. I never meant to hurt you.’

‘And that makes it all right? Poor Russ never meant to lie to my face and make a fool out of me by carrying on behind my back! It was an accident! Surely not even you believe that? I told you not to see her, Russ. I told you! And do you know why? Not because I wanted to be cruel. Not because I was jealous. Not because I didn’t sympathise with her predicament. It was because I knew this would happen. And I knew because I know you, Russell, like no one else does. And what breaks my heart is that you don’t know me. Because if you did you wouldn’t be standing here hoping I’ll forgive you. That’s never, ever, going to happen.’

BOOK: The Importance of Being a Bachelor
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