Page 35 of Commitment Issues
“You didn’t need to do that, because I promise I won’t cry. I’m tougher than I look.” Andrew laughs, and it’s like the rumble of distant thunder.
“I’m sure you’re very tough, and more than a match for most. Including Gavin.”
I jerk backwards, his final words kicking my legs from under me.
“Sorry?”
“Are you? I’m not. I was watching the three of you together. He didn’t look happy. But,” he says, all laughter in his voice dying, “you may be fooling him, but you’re not fooling me. You’re not really with Elliot.”
Waves of hot and cold wash over me, and I feel very slightly sick.
Oh, fuck… If Elliot’s told him, he’d say so, wouldn’t he? But Elliot said he preferred the arrangement to be kept between us…
“I don’t know what you mean,” I say, in a voice that sounds far away, and not like mine.
“You know exactly what I mean. I’m disappointed Elliot chose not to be totally transparent with me, but I suspect he has what he considers good reason.” He grunts, and shakes his big bear-like head. “I’m a barrister, and a damn good one, which means I’m rather adept at sniffing out a lie. But don’t be concerned, I’m confident nobody else has. However, you’re here with one of my oldest friends, which means you’re welcome, but you’re also a guest in my home and at my wedding, and that means I’ve a right to the truth.”
“Shouldn’t you be speaking to Elliot?”
“I’m speaking to you.”
Andrew’s voice is calm and level but I can’t mistake the hint of steel. If I bluster or deny, or just downright refuse to answer his question, I know I’ll be belittling myself in his eyes. I don’t want that for my sake, but more than that, I don’t want it for Elliot. I’m trapped, and I know Andrew knows it, too.
I take a deep breath, and launch in.
“I’m here to support Elliot. We were put in touch with each other by mutual friends, and met for the first time about a week ago.” Seven days, ten hours and fifteen minutes, to be precise, but who’s counting?
“Would one of the mutual friends be James, by any chance? It sounds like the kind of thing he’d engineer.”
“Yes, but it’s really his cousin who’s my friend.”
“So, what are you? Some form of escort, who hires himself out as a fake partner for weddings, funerals and bar mitzvahs?”
Ouch. I’m not an escort, but as for hiring myself out…
“No, and I’ve never done anything like this before. You ask me who I am, and the answer is somebody with too many bills pressing down on his shoulders. Elliot and I are helping each other out in our own way. He doesn’t really believe he needs help, but I think the thought of coming here on his own and facing Gavin was pressing down on him. I don’t doubt he could’ve got through it, but if you’re the friend you claim to be, would you want that for him, to just get through it? James certainly didn’t. He might be an infuriating sod, but he knew exactly what it was Elliot needed. And he knew what I needed, too. He just slotted us together.”
The words rush from me, leaving me breathless. I stare up at Andrew, but his face is in shadow, as a cloud scuds across the moon.
“I suppose you’re going to ask me to leave.” My shoulders sag. Why wouldn’t he tell me to go? He has every right to. “I only ask that you don’t make a fuss about it. I could make up an emergency at home, because I don’t want Elliot embarrassed by this. If you’re his friend, you won’t want that either.” In my head, I’m already repacking the bag I unpacked just a couple or so hours ago. My time in the southern French sunshine’s over before it’s begun.
“Am I going to ask you to leave?” Andrew muses, rolling the words around his tongue like a fine brandy. “I’d never put Elliot in an invidious position, but as for whether you stay or go, that really depends on what you tell me next. I want to know exactly who it is I have under my roof.”
Don’t even bother trying to lie, in other words… It’s as loud and clear as a megaphone.
And so, I tell Andrew everything.
“A PhD? In my day, we worked in restaurants or in the students’ union bar to earn extra cash.”
“Somehow, I don’t think you ever had to work to pay off student loans, or eat budget baked beans on sliced white bread.” I’ve told him the truth, so why stop now?
Andrew chuckles. “Somehow, I think you’re right.”
We carry on walking along the beach, in the warm night air, strangely companionable given the weird circumstances. Now he’s heard the whole story, I need to know if I’m staying or going. I’m about to ask, and once again he beats me to it.
“So, Norse Studies. That’s all boat building and fishing techniques, is it?”
I give a long, exasperated sigh. I even roll my eyes.
