Jake glared at Marcus as he grabbed the bag and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Jake leaned back against the closed door. His hand was throbbing. He stood like that for several seconds, breathing deeply and trying to get a grip. It was working – sort of. Marcus had always had the capacity to wind him up. Since he had lost Eleanor, there had been times he had seriously wanted Marcus to disappear out of his life permanently, but he was afraid of what might happen if he just walked out on Marcus. Just then was a case in point. Would he spiral again, and go on a bender? Jake did not want another phone call from Faye about Marcus, even though if Marcus landed himself in jail again, it would not be Jake’s fault.
Jake sighed and opened the bedroom door; he swung it wide and stood in the open doorway, eyeing Marcus. He was still seated on the sofa. ‘Are you coming or not?’
‘I don’t know – you tell me,’ Marcus quipped. ‘You seem to be doing your best to ditch me.’
‘And why do you suppose that is?’ Jake watched the smirkdisappear from Marcus’s face.
Marcus got up and walked towards the door.
Jake moved into the room, holding the door in readiness to close it behind them.
Marcus collected his jacket and suitcase from by the door. He paused in front of Jake, and leaned in close, whispering, ‘Why don’t you say it to my face? Say it out loud, then see how bloody fantastical, how bloody absurd it sounds.’ Marcus stood his ground, staring at Jake intently.
Jake stared back, taking in those dark eyes and the faint two-inch scar just above the eyebrow – one of the battle-scars of childhood that people all seemed to collect.
‘Yeah, just as I thought,’ Marcus brushed past Jake. ‘You can’t say it to my face, so you write it down for posterity – cruel, Jake.’
‘What are you talking about now?’ Jake was confused. He shut the bedroom door and followed Marcus down the stairs.
‘That’s why I can’t visit the memorial garden, and see that stone.’
Jake caught up with him at the front door.
‘You know what?’ Marcus scoffed. ‘You’re the one with problem, not me. Don’t you see?’
Of course Jake did. He was the problem because he had made the mistake of telling a truth which Marcus could not and would not accept. If it had been the other way round, on that mountain on Christmas Day, could Jake have done the same as Marcus – made that choice, leaving Eleanor to her fate? More to the point, could he live with himself afterwards?
He didn’t know the answer to that question but what he did know was how he loathed Marcus for just carrying on as though nothing had happened, for thinking everything could stay the same.
Jake searched his face; was it possible that Marcus had convinced himself of the lie? Convinced himself that whathe had said happened at Christmas was true? It was understandable; it could be a way out, a way for Marcus to live with what he had done.
‘I can’t visit the garden without your little inscription staring back at me, accusing me.’ Marcus’s words cut into Jake’s thoughts.
‘My what?’
‘Perhaps you shouldn’t keep it to yourself. Why not tell the family?’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘You can’t tell them, can you? Who would believe your absurd little concoction?’
Jake sighed. How could he tell the family? Didn’t they have enough to cope with, with the loss of Eleanor, without knowing what had really happened on that mountain when the three of them had got caught in that avalanche? It wouldn’t change anything; it wouldn’t bring her back. This disagreement over the facts; it was just between the two of them. And Jake wondered if it was ever going to end.
He had suggested counselling in the past. He could suggest hypnosis. Wasn’t that all the rage, to find and face up to all those repressed memories? What good would that do? This was so obviously Marcus’s coping mechanism, to believe the lie, to believe he wasn’t the one who had chosen to dig Jake out of the snow first instead of his sister.
‘So, you have your little lie engraved, so it makes you feel good, and me feel bad,’ continued Marcus started shaking his head. ‘Was it worth it?’
Jake opened his mouth to speak.
‘Was it worth our friendship?’ Marcus turned abruptly, opened the front door and walked out.
Jake stared after him, trying to piece together what had just happened. One comment, just one comment, would set off thewhole damn argument again. Jake realised in that moment, watching Marcus walk down the front steps, that this was never going to go away. This heartache and their friendship was never going to mend.
Chapter 37
‘I thought I heard voices.’
