King Rich by Joe Bennett Page A

feel the rise and fall of his breathing, and in the half dark I stared at the features of his face, the smooth skin of his shoulder and chest. The curtain was thin and the window beyond was bright with moonlight and I didn’t want to sleep and though I lost feeling in my arm I kept it there as long as I could without waking him. I can remember it all with such clarity. It was as though I knew this moment would matter to me more than any other. Though in the end, of course, I fell asleep.
    â€˜When I woke in the morning, we were wrapped around each other. I can remember precisely the feeling of how nice it was to wake up pressed against someone else. The feeling lasted about two seconds. Then the guilt came. I was seized with guilt. There’s the world for you. Guilt.
    â€˜I knew, there and then, just knew we’d be found out. Rich was still sleeping. I wanted to kiss him but I didn’t dare. I didn’t regret what we’d done. But I dreaded being found out. And I was sure we would be. I peeled his arm from my chest and slid out of bed. Our clothes were scattered together on the floor. I dressed as quietly as I could.
    â€˜Rich’s mum was already banging around. I liked her but I didn’t want to face her then. I listened at the door till she went to the bathroom. I turned for one more look at Rich. His eyes were open. He was smiling. “See you, Vince,” he said. “Take it easy.”
    â€˜I was wound up so tight I felt I was going to snap and he looked so relaxed I half wanted to throw myself back into bed or burst into tears or scream or something but I didn’t.
    â€˜â€œYeah,” I said or something like that, and I just turned and left and let myself out the front door. And it seemed to me extraordinary that Brighton was still there and unchanged. I somehow felt the world ought to have been altered by what we’d done. It should have been a different place.
    â€˜I got a bus back into town. I remember blushing on the bus because I was sure people knew. And I’ve never told anyone. Except you. His daughter. You’ve got to laugh. Now, at any rate. You’ve got to laugh now.’
    Vince paused. ‘That was the last time I saw Rich.’
    â€˜What, ever?’
    Vince nodded. ‘I thought I’d wait for him to ring. He didn’t. There were no mobile phones back then, of course. There wereonly a couple of days before I headed south to varsity and I had lots of stuff to do. Then I got on a train and went south. And he presumably went north. And that was that. I got immersed in a new life and I got a girlfriend and it was all new and different. When I came home for the first holiday I rang Rich’s place and his mum told me he’d got a flat up north and I wrote down the phone number. But I never rang it. There seemed no point at the time. I always sort of assumed we’d catch up again one day.’
    â€˜That’s sad,’ said Annie.
    Their glasses were empty. Night had settled over the city. No lights had come on in the centre of town.
    â€˜Oh, I don’t know,’ said Vince. ‘I don’t know.’

Chapter 14
    The corridor ends in a heavy security door. ‘Exit via Car Park’, it says, and there is a picture of a stick man running from a fire. Richard turns the handle and puts his shoulder against the door. The door opens a little and the dog squeezes through but the closing mechanism is too much for Richard and the door clangs shut. Within seconds Richard hears the dog’s claws on the door, mildly at first, then with increasing vigour.
    â€˜It’s all right, boy,’ says Richard through the thick door. ‘It’s all right.’ But the claws keep scratching. The noise chafes at Richard’s head. Halfway down the corridor a rubber plant stands in a brass pot. Richard tips the pot on its side and rolls it. Gravel spills from the surface but the soil seems to be held in place by the