That Summer He Died by Emlyn Rees

the meditation crap and you use that as your excuse to bail. But it’s deeper than that.’
    James rolled his eyes, drunk and uncertain he wanted to hear any more. ‘Is that a fact?’
    ‘Reckon so. On the surface, sure, you’re just like me: moving on all the time, not prepared to settle and give up on the game.’ David swirled his drink for a moment, before adding, ‘Only motive-wise, I think it’s different with you. I think you really do want to settle down with someone. That’s what’s with all these short-lived relationships. Otherwise, you’d do what I do: you’d get the one-night stands in and move on the next morning, not look back. But you try. You try and make it work with all of them. And then, when you suss they’re not perfect – and by now, you should’ve cottoned on to the fact that no one is – you chuck them, convinced it’s not going to work out anyway. Am I right, or am I right?’ David nodded his head and raised his glass. ‘Profound, huh?’
    James didn’t speak for a few seconds, waited until he was sure that David had finished, then said, ‘Becky’s right, you know. We do talk a lot of shit.’
    David laughed. ‘Becky’s right about a lot of things.’ He raised his glass. ‘To Becky, the best woman I know. Our guardian angel.’
    ‘Becky,’ James concurred, toasting her with his own glass and drinking. He waited till David’s eyes met his. ‘So,’ he said, ‘since we’re being so honest with each other. . . if you reckon Becky’s the best woman in the world, how come you’ve never. . .’
    ‘How come I’ve never what?’ David said, looking at him bemused. The suggestion hit home. ‘What – that? With her? You serious?’
    ‘Sure I’m serious.’
    David frowned. ‘Well, I dunno. The situation’s never arisen.’
    ‘OK, but hypothetically—’
    ‘Hypothetically. . . Christ, I dunno. It’s like asking me if I’ve ever considered banging my sister. It’s not something I’ve thought about.’
    James wasn’t being put off. Becky would castrate him if she could hear him going on like this. But it was only hypothetical, right? No big deal. Just a game. ‘So think about it now,’ he said.
    ‘OK,’ David said, doing just that for a moment, pulling all kinds of troubled faces. ‘Well, she’s attractive, yes. I mean, if you like that kind of thing.’
    ‘And do you?’
    David considered this a while longer. ‘Suppose. But you know me,’ he added quickly. ‘Not like I’m fussy at the best of times. . .’
    ‘Point taken. But you’re great mates with her, and you do find her attractive. Attractive-ish, anyway.’
    ‘I’ll run with that,’ David said, his expression serious. If Becky had looked across now and seen him, she might have withdrawn her earlier comment: it really did look like it might be a route to world peace that was on his mind.
    ‘So back on the hypothetical, say the situation did arise where you could – question is, would you?’
    ‘But we’re mates. . .’
    ‘Which means you wouldn’t have to go through all the crap of getting to know her and finding out it’s a waste of time.’
    ‘The James Sawday Speciality, you mean.’
    ‘Call it what you want,’ James said, overlooking the dig, keeping on his case. ‘Just answer the question.’
    ‘OK, OK, so yeah – if the situation arose – I might have a crack.’
    James was riding the tequila now, holding nothing back. ‘So maybe – instead of spending the rest of your love life shagging nameless bodies you’ve met in clubs – you should.’
    ‘Fine,’ David said, though his belligerent expression showed that it was far from it. ‘So switch it.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘What about you? Hypo-bloody-thetically, what about you? You know her as well as I do. If the situation arose with you, what would you do?’
    ‘It wouldn’t.’
    ‘Uh-uh.’ David wagged his finger at him. ‘You’re not getting out of it that easily. It’s as likely to happen to you as to