Page 13 of Close to You
Jane bites at her nail and then turns and rubs my upper arm. There are so many times that I want to tell her to stop, but it’s gone on for so long that I figure it’s too late now. I suspect it’s more reassuring for her than it ever is for me.
‘You’re right,’ she says. ‘I just want you to be happy.’
‘David makes me happy.’
Well, happy enough.
She presses her lips together and I know she isn’t convinced. I wonder if there’s an element of jealousy. Ever since university, she’s had Ben. They’ve been a duo and I’ve been the single friend hanging around. It’s different now.
I’m not in the mood to argue. Our fallings out are always around insignificant things, never anything important. I don’t get the chance to reply anyway, because the sound of raised voices drifts through the open front door. Jane and I exchange a bemused look and then we head out to the front, where Ben and David are at the back of the van. Ben has a cigarette in one hand and is jabbing a finger at David with the other.
‘That’s a lie,’ Ben shouts. ‘You know it is.’
‘Just shut your mouth.’
‘I’ll do whatever I—’ Ben cuts himself off as he notices us in the doorway.
‘Everything all right?’ I ask.
Ben and David exchange a look that I can’t read – and then Ben tosses his cigarette onto the ground and crushes it with his foot.
‘Let’s get this stuff inside,’ he says.
Without another word, Ben grabs a box from the van and carries it towards the flat. Jane and I step out of the way to allow him to pass. David crosses back to his car, which he’s parked at an angle at the front of the van. I follow him over, watching as he removes a satchel from the back seat. There’s a bobblehead of some footballer on the shelf at the back, though I have no idea who it is.
‘Probably didn’t need the van,’ he says. ‘I don’t have as much stuff as I thought.’
I nod towards the flat, from which Ben is yet to reappear. Jane has disappeared inside, too. ‘What was that about?’ I ask.
He digs into the satchel with his back to me: ‘What?’
‘The argument with you and Ben.’
David turns and shrugs. ‘Not much. We’re not going to let him spoil our day, are we?’ He starts to move past me and then stops, waiting until I’m at his side. ‘Number one, Sunshine Row,’ he says. ‘I like the sound of that.’
Seven
THE NOW
This is the equivalent of when somebody starts a sentence with, ‘We need to talk’. The truth is that people never need to make a formal announcement about having to talk. If they need a chat, they get on with it. Pre-proclamations mean trouble – and so does the missing Tigger pot.
Everyone who sees it assumes I’m a fan of Winnie The Pooh, but it’s nothing to do with it. When I bought it for £5, I was with David and he thought it might be worth more than the price. There was no way I could have known that such a seemingly insignificant piece of clay would change my life. It’s probably the reason I glued it back together after it was broken – I couldn’t bear to throw it away. It’s why it sits on my counter, housing my keys. The last thing I see before I leave the flat and the first thing I see when I return.
But now it’s gone.
I check the photo on my phone once more, zooming in on David’s face. I’m filled with the same feeling I get when I wonder if I’ve remembered to lock the front door. I suspect everyone has it at some point. I’ll leave as normal and set off on my journey and then, ten minutes later, for seemingly no reason, a thought will worm its way into my mind that I forgot to lock the door. Even if I remember specifically putting my key in the lock, the voice will continue to insist that I did that yesterday. That I definitely forgot to secure things today.
And now I’m wondering if David can be alive.
IknowI killed him. Isawhis lifeless eyes. I got rid of the body.
Yet, not only is he in the back of a photo of what most would assume is my proudest moment; but the object that will forever bind our fates has disappeared.
I scratch away the chills that ripple along my arms and then find myself rubbing the scar on my neck before catching myself. I decide that it can only be me who gets a grip on this madness.
I search along both sides of the counter, wondering if I might have knocked it off and somehow not noticed.
Nothing.
