Page 58 of Hearts Colliding
"Yes, he has," Eva conceded.
Ryan met his nan’s gaze and all he wanted to do was hang his head in shame as her disappointment in him sank into his bones. He was twelve once again, the first and last time she'd looked at him with such sadness, when she’d caught him stealing from her purse to buy cigarettes, his ticket to being one of the gang at school.
“Well, I must say that certainly made a noise, but not in quite the way we envisioned. You'll have a real shiner of a black eye, Ryan. You'd better start thinking up your story to explain it away, as I doubt you’ll want to tell the truth.” Charles' voice, so often an upper class drawl, was crisp, clear and sharp as he made his way across. "I've persuaded Samantha not to report this incident. She wasn't entirely happy about it, but…" Charles shrugged.
“Why did you contact the press?” Ryan’s voice was thick and nasal, as though he had a heavy cold.
"We agreed on a final push. Remember? At the last meeting of the war council? Or maybe you don't, because you were too busy drifting off into La La land, and thinking of your boyfriend. You know the one?” Declan stabbed a finger toward the house. "Alex Love, who wants to ruin this village, make his pile of cash and then fuck off.”
“Hey, lover, you've made your point. Forcefully,” Charles murmured, laying a hand on Declan’s bicep.
”Nothing was said about getting the press involved." It was a smart move, even as it had wrecked everything. But why hadn't he heard? Why hadn't he—
"It was all very last minute,” Charles said. “You were uncontactable, so we had no option other than to proceed without you.”
“That's true, Ry.” Joss pushed another hanky into Ryan’s hand. “We all tried phoning you, but your mobile was switched off. You'll have a stack of messages as long as your arm. Samantha Whatshername, she's a friend of a friend kind of thing of Charles.”
“I was put in touch with her, just as Joss says. She jumped at it. It was a chance, I suppose, to raise the station’s profile along with her own. I don't think Coast and Country radio's reach is particularly wide, but it was preferable to the good ladies of the village forming a human chain outside the planning offices.”
Christ, the Grannies' Grapevine, lying on the ground, like stranded whales.
"I think it might be best if you stand down from the committee, Ryan. I think it’s fair to say your position is somewhat compromised.”
Declan huffed. “That’s a polite way of saying we had a traitor in the ranks."
“Fuck off, Declan. I’m not a traitor. Me and Alex, we never spoke about what was happening. It was off limits, we agreed that from the start.” He winced as he touched his nose. Could this day get any worse?
“How do you expect me, or any of us, to believe that? You're a liar and a traitor. But you’re also a coward, for creeping around behind our backs. Yeah, we were right to think you were seeing somebody on the sly, but you really pulled a blinder with Alex fucking Love. Well done, top marks, because nobody saw that one coming.”
“I’m not any of those things.” Ryan’s stomach clenched. Declan’s words were harder than any punch he could inflict. Alex believed he was all of those things, and now so did everybody else.
“You’re every one of them.”
“Declan, leave it for now.”
Declan shrugged off Charles’ restraining hand and jabbed his finger at Ryan. “You know what I think is the worst? It’s the lies. You’re a liar by omission. You should have been man enough to come clean and tell us what was happening, instead of creeping around, ashamed to let your grubby little secret see the light of day. A bit late for secrets now, though, isn’t it?”
What little was left of Ryan’s self restraint snapped. Anger, regret, upset and the overwhelming weight of loss — of Alex, of his good name amongst his friends and family — pressed down on him and all he wanted was to hit out at the injustice of it all.
He stepped forward. Declan did the same. They were matched in height and build.
“Oh, no you don’t. We’ve had enough fisticuffs for one day. The two of you, stop this right now." Eva forced her way between them. As solid as a brick wall, her voice clear and commanding, honed from years of throwing drunks out of the pub. "What's happened has happened, it's too late to change that, but squaring up for a fight like a couple of drunkards isn't the answer. You've been friends for years, don't let a moment of anger destroy it all. Don’t bring bad blood to the village.”
“Bit late for that, Eva," Declan growled, as Charles pulled him back.
"Perhaps we should all go home for now?” Joss said, “and, you know, calm down a bit? I’ve got to get back to the surgery in any case. The vicar's bringing his parrot in. It’s got a bad case of scaly beak.”
"A good idea, Joss. Cool heads and a bit of normality, that’s what’s called for. And we've got a whisky tasting to get ready for this evening — in case you’d forgotten, Ryan?”
Ryan wanted to laugh as much as he wanted to cry. His world was falling apart and all they could talk about was scaly beak and scotch.
"And we've left poor Mitch on his own for far too long in the café. You’re right, Joss, we need to let things calm down. Come on, you." Charles tugged at Declan, who resisted for a moment before he let his man drag him away along the path.
"I gave your nan a lift here, so if you want to come back—”
Ryan shook his head, the movement taking every last piece of his dwindling strength.
"I've got my car. I parked it around the back." He looked towards the house, avoiding the two pairs of eyes boring into him. “I’ll see you at home, Nan.”
