he expects me to pick up the pieces during some early midlife crisis. This isn’t fair. He can’t expect me to do this – he can’t be this selfish.
‘The thing is, Charlie, and kind of on that subject … maybe it would be better if you stay with your parents? Or with your brother, or down in Devon at the cottage? Don’t you think that would be better? Come on, Charlie, be honest, I don’t know how we’d cope for a weekend together. I think that maybe I’m not the best person for you to be with, while you sort your head out.’
He wrings my hands with his, and his eyes plead with me. ‘Nicola, please. I promise I won’t touch you. We’ll go just as friends. You were going to finish with me, I know that.’ Again, I am shocked. I didn’t realize he knew. His sudden insanity is lending him a clarity that is quite off-putting, especially considering that, before today, it has been known to take him three weeks to notice I’ve had my hair coloured. Now, now he manages to guess what I am about to say before I say it! He’s got some kind of Uri Geller thing going on. I contemplategetting a spoon, to test it out properly, but then realize I don’t really want to be handing him metal implements, no matter how blunt.
‘It’s fine,’ he says, as he registers my surprise as guilty shock. ‘And I promise, after this, you never have to see me again. But please, Nix, do this for me. Help me out. I know I’ve been a cheating arsehole shit, thoughtless and insensitive, but please. Just help me. I can’t stop crying … I feel like my head’s going to cave in.’ On cue, he starts sobbing again. I don’t know what the hell to do.
‘Charlie, I really don’t think it’s a good idea, plus, you know, Evil Ghost 2 is playing up, José is going to have my arse if it goes over budget, and…’ Charlie grabs the sides of my face and pulls me close to him, forcing me to look into his eyes. There’s a deep fear in there, and he genuinely believes he is losing it. I feel my body, previously stiff with tension, soften slightly at those eyes . There is something familiar in them that I haven’t seen for an age, or maybe I just feel needed.
‘Charlie, how about this,’ I whisper, ‘we’ll go away. We’ll go down to Devon, stay in your parents’ cottage, and just sort you out. Because I know you are scared now, but I really, honestly, truly believe that all you need is some sleep, and some clean air, and some perspective, and you will be fine. But then, hon, then we don’t have to have the conversation we were going to have. Then we don’t see each other as much. Do you understand what I am saying?’
‘Thank you, thank you so much,’ Charlie whispers back, and doesn’t seem to have heard anything other than my agreeing to look after him for the next couple of days.
‘But Charlie …’ I have to get this clear now, if I am going to do it.
‘Charlie, when we are done – Charlie, look at me.’ I hold his chin and pull his head up, so he is looking at me with his teary eyes.
‘When Devon is done and we come back, and you are your old self again,’ I force a smile, ‘then we’re done, ok?’ I nod my head at him, as if to encourage agreement. ‘Then we go our separate ways, ok? You’ll feel better, I promise. And we should go just as friends, just like you said. Separate rooms, separate beds, we’ll just chill out, and get you better.’ A wave of relief sweeps over me – I don’t have to have the conversation after all. This conversation that I have been putting off for nearly a year doesn’t need to happen now. Thank God!
Charlie drops his head into my lap and says, all of a sudden, ‘Of course, thank you. Now can I go in this? I feel comfortable in this.’ He gestures down at the dress. It was obviously my turn for a moment of madness. What have I let myself in for?
‘No, Charlie, I think you should get changed.’
‘But,’ he points like a child towards the kitchen, then says
‘The thing is, Charlie, and kind of on that subject … maybe it would be better if you stay with your parents? Or with your brother, or down in Devon at the cottage? Don’t you think that would be better? Come on, Charlie, be honest, I don’t know how we’d cope for a weekend together. I think that maybe I’m not the best person for you to be with, while you sort your head out.’
He wrings my hands with his, and his eyes plead with me. ‘Nicola, please. I promise I won’t touch you. We’ll go just as friends. You were going to finish with me, I know that.’ Again, I am shocked. I didn’t realize he knew. His sudden insanity is lending him a clarity that is quite off-putting, especially considering that, before today, it has been known to take him three weeks to notice I’ve had my hair coloured. Now, now he manages to guess what I am about to say before I say it! He’s got some kind of Uri Geller thing going on. I contemplategetting a spoon, to test it out properly, but then realize I don’t really want to be handing him metal implements, no matter how blunt.
‘It’s fine,’ he says, as he registers my surprise as guilty shock. ‘And I promise, after this, you never have to see me again. But please, Nix, do this for me. Help me out. I know I’ve been a cheating arsehole shit, thoughtless and insensitive, but please. Just help me. I can’t stop crying … I feel like my head’s going to cave in.’ On cue, he starts sobbing again. I don’t know what the hell to do.
‘Charlie, I really don’t think it’s a good idea, plus, you know, Evil Ghost 2 is playing up, José is going to have my arse if it goes over budget, and…’ Charlie grabs the sides of my face and pulls me close to him, forcing me to look into his eyes. There’s a deep fear in there, and he genuinely believes he is losing it. I feel my body, previously stiff with tension, soften slightly at those eyes . There is something familiar in them that I haven’t seen for an age, or maybe I just feel needed.
‘Charlie, how about this,’ I whisper, ‘we’ll go away. We’ll go down to Devon, stay in your parents’ cottage, and just sort you out. Because I know you are scared now, but I really, honestly, truly believe that all you need is some sleep, and some clean air, and some perspective, and you will be fine. But then, hon, then we don’t have to have the conversation we were going to have. Then we don’t see each other as much. Do you understand what I am saying?’
‘Thank you, thank you so much,’ Charlie whispers back, and doesn’t seem to have heard anything other than my agreeing to look after him for the next couple of days.
‘But Charlie …’ I have to get this clear now, if I am going to do it.
‘Charlie, when we are done – Charlie, look at me.’ I hold his chin and pull his head up, so he is looking at me with his teary eyes.
‘When Devon is done and we come back, and you are your old self again,’ I force a smile, ‘then we’re done, ok?’ I nod my head at him, as if to encourage agreement. ‘Then we go our separate ways, ok? You’ll feel better, I promise. And we should go just as friends, just like you said. Separate rooms, separate beds, we’ll just chill out, and get you better.’ A wave of relief sweeps over me – I don’t have to have the conversation after all. This conversation that I have been putting off for nearly a year doesn’t need to happen now. Thank God!
Charlie drops his head into my lap and says, all of a sudden, ‘Of course, thank you. Now can I go in this? I feel comfortable in this.’ He gestures down at the dress. It was obviously my turn for a moment of madness. What have I let myself in for?
‘No, Charlie, I think you should get changed.’
‘But,’ he points like a child towards the kitchen, then says
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