Page 59 of The Good Boy

“He’s in there,” Rory says. “He’s in Fred’s Man Club.”

“In-ter-esting,” I say slowly as I look at the door, and then at the sign, wishing Rory had X-ray vision to go with his super smell. “What do we think a man club is?”

“I think it’s like a club for men,” Rory suggests.

“I think you are probably right,” I say. “But men are strange things, Rory. There are many varieties of them. I’m just wondering what kind this lot is.”

“Let’s go in,” Rory says, “and then we will know.”

“I am not a man,” I remind him.

“Oh yeah,” he says. “But what about the patriarchy? Weren’t you going to smash it earlier today in the park?”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” I shrug and open the door. Inside is a large elegant room that is entirely empty except for a small circle of chairs occupied by eight or so men.

“Hello!” I say, waving lamely. This is a support group. Maybe the secret gambling addiction theory was bang-on after all.

“Hello there, are you lost?” asks a gentleman whom I assume might be Fred.

“Erm, no.” I scan the seats, and sure enough there is Dave with his back to me, and I’m desperately reaching for an excuse to explain away this intrusion into the men’s group. “I’m here to support my friend Rory. He wants to come in but he’s nervous.”

“Actually I do not want to come in,” Rory says brightly, popping his head around the doorframe. “I don’t even want to be a man.”

“Ah,” Fred says. “Well, all are welcome here. Don’t you worry about it, Rory. We get lots of first-time jitters. We’ve all been there.”

“Been where?” Rory mutters, scowling at me.

“Well, what do you say, fellers?” Fred asks the group.

“It’s a no from me, Fred,” one man says. “You let one woman in, and the next thing you know you’re overrun.”

“I’m not sure that’s entirely reflective of the ethos of the group,” Fred says. “Rory needs a friend for a bit of backup, so why don’t we let...?” Fred looks at me questioningly.

“I’m Genie,” I say, half coughing into my hand. At the sound of my name Dave turns around and looks at me. His face falls down to his feet, and a bloom of color spreads across his cheeks.

“Do we mind if Genie here sits in and gives Rory a bit of moral support just for a couple of minutes?” Fred asks.

Everyone else murmurs their okays while Dave’s head drops.

“Come on, then, Rory, no need to be scared,” Fred says. “And for the record, what is said in this room stays in this room, okay?”

I nod.

“Go on,” I tell Rory, jerking my head inside the room.

“Fine,” Rory says. “But only because there are biscuits.”

Rory picks up the plate of biscuits and takes an empty chair in the circle. I hover at the back of the room, feeling sick to my stomach. I know I am being a good friend to Kelly, but I am increasingly getting the feeling that I am being a terrible person to Dave. And by the look on his face, so is he.

“Rory, do you want to tell us what’s brought you to our man club?” Fred asks him kindly.

“Dave’s smell, mostly,” Rory says.

Dave sinks down further into his chair.

“Right.” Fred chuckles, as if he gets the joke. He’s clearly a man determined to put everyone at their ease, no matter who they are. He radiates kindness. “But the men’s club is a place for us to be able to talk freely about anything. It’s hard sometimes for fellers like us—workingmen, who were raised with a certain idea of what masculinity is—to admit when we’re struggling. This is a safe place to do that.”

Dave looks at me, and this time it’s my turn to bow my head. Poor Dave. Poor, poor Dave. He had a safe space and I blew it.

---