Page 47 of Out of the Shadows
DANIEL
You’d think it wouldn’t be easy to keep out of somebody’s way when there’s hardly more than a dozen of you, holed up together, but keep out of each other’s way is exactly what Cosmo and I do.
His twisted ankle means he’s been let off the outdoor exercise, which this morning entailed a combined assault course and treasure hunt, out on the moor, but he takes part in this afternoon’s ridiculous desk-based activities. Yesterday Cosmo and I may have been thrust together, but today we’re being wrenched apart. Our paths haven’t crossed and we’ve not spoken a word to each other apart from a bland and civil good morning.
Everybody’s quieter today, everybody’s tired, and by nine o’clock most are making an early night of it, including Cosmo, who hobbles away. I don’t offer to help him, and that’s down to cowardice, because I don’t want to see the shade of contempt in his eyes when he refuses. If anybody notices our lack of communication, so different to yesterday, they don’t comment.
Soon, I’m the only one left in the common room, where I catch up with work emails. It’s nothing more than a diversionary tactic because what I’m waiting for is for Cosmo to be fast asleep so I can creep into the bedroom and slide under the covers, hiding in the darkness just like I’ve been doing for years.
* * *
“… discovered so much more about ourselves. Strengths and weaknesses, what makes us fear and how we can face them , but also how we can be brave.”
Linda leans forward. Her eyes are bright, her tone almost evangelical.
“As we leave here today, we can be proud of what we’ve achieved as individuals but also of what we’ve achieved through working together as a strong and cohesive team. What we’ve learnt in this very short time away from the office will take our professional lives to a new height but also, I believe, our personal lives too. Keith, would you like to say a word?”
Linda turns to the facilitator. Keith. Of course. The name’s as colourless and forgettable as the man himself.
Keith steps forward, but I’m not listening because I’m still feeling vaguely queasy after Linda’s gushing and trite little speech. Yet there’s a kernel of truth in what she’s said. Facing one’s fear. The one fear I should have faced long ago, but chose instead to run from. And proud, and brave? I don’t feel very much of either.
My gaze finds Cosmo, across the other side of the common room where we’re all gathered for these final words before we board the coach that will take us back to London. I should talk to him, now there’s been a breathing space. We have to be mature and professional about this, we have to agree to box up what happened, put it aside and forget it.
But how the hell am I going to forget about it? How the hell am I going to forget how he looked, how he felt, how he tasted? How the hell can I go on fooling myself?
He turns suddenly and quickly as though he feels the heat of my scrutiny. Our gazes lock, but those eyes, those mossy green eyes which turn up very slightly at their outer edges giving them an almost catlike quality, are as cool and unreadable as ever, before he looks away, dismissing me as though I’m not worth the effort.
What does he read in me? What do I read in myself? But I know. I’ve always known. It’s uncomfortable, difficult, agonising reading. I closed the book long ago, and thrust it aside, yet the words are still there and waiting to be read.
Soon after we gather outside, strung out along the front of the outdoor centre as a coach arrives and throws open its pneumatic doors. Everyone piles on with their luggage, except for Cosmo whose gear is picked up and taken aboard by Kyle who is, no doubt, relieved to see the back of us. A couple of minutes later and with the rumble of chitchat all around us, the coach sets off.
I turn as though to look at the centre that’s been our home for the last four days but really it’s to see where Cosmo has settled himself. Not with Fiona, which I’m surprised about. He’s further back, a couple of rows between him and the rest of us, with earbuds tethering him to his phone as he stares out over the bleak landscape.
* * *
The coach pulls up outside the office and as soon as we’re all off, I look around for Cosmo. I can’t help it. Something needs to be said, something needs to be worked out because even though we have to put aside what happened, I can’t rid myself of the gnawing conviction that until we do this will always be unfinished business. It can’t be here, and now, I know that, but maybe if I can have a word, arrange to meet him perhaps…
Everybody’s waving goodbye, leaving for the tube station to go home to start their weekends. Maybe I can catch him now and I take a step towards him when a taxi pulls up. He throws his bag onto the back seat, and stumbles in after it; a moment later the taxi’s pulling away and melting into the traffic.
I start to make my way towards the underground, but I change my mind. I don’t want to go home to an empty house. I could call up some friends. I could take myself off for a solo dinner. My choices leave me cold. Right now, there’s only one person I can bear to be with and I pull out my phone and make the call.
