‘Well... take care of yourself.’ She went silent again and I could tell she had more to say. I knew her well. The airwaves between us were thick with unspoken words.
I sighed. ‘Come on, out with it. What’s up?’
She began sobbing down the line. ‘Oh, God. Fin, I’m so, so sorry. I have to tell you something.’
I shook my head even though she couldn’t see me. ‘What? What is it?’What the hell could be so bad? Oh, God. Please don’t let her be pregnant. Please...
She cleared her throat and I heard a deep inhale. ‘I... I met someone else. I’m... I’m in love with him. Have been for a while now.’
Ah.‘I see. I see. Well... um... congratulations. I mean it, Elise. I want you to be happy. Sincerely I do.’ A part of me ached inside with sadness and a twinge of envy.
‘Really?’ The sobs came harder, even though I’d pretty much just given her my blessing. ‘Oh, Fin. You’re so sweet.’
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. ‘Yes, so I’ve been told.’
She laughed too, and the heavy weight on my shoulders began to lift.
She sniffed again. ‘Thanks for not hating me. I couldn’t bear it if you hated me.’
‘Of course I don’t hate you. So, who is he?’
Elise went on to fill me in about Theodore Fitzsimmons. The lawyer from London who she’d fallen head over heels in love with so quickly. He sounded like a complete nerd in my opinion, but apparently he was good to Elise and had asked her to move in with him. It all seemed a bit quick to me, but she was evidently besotted. We ended our chat on friendly terms, but it felt like we’d never really been together.
A strange numbness settled over me.
* * *
For the next week, I concentrated solely on work. It was a place I could escape my parents as my dad was still taking things easy at home, which wasveryconvenient for him as it meant staying out of my way. I made no contact with them at all after the verbal explosion that had occurred on the Thursday I was supposed to be married.
For some reason, I was under a tremendous amount of pressure at work. It wasn’t something that had bothered me before, but suddenly every case seemed to be filled with issues that needed extra work in order for them to come anywhere close to a conclusion. I had been going straight to work from the apartment that I had once shared with Elise—not even calling for my coffee as I guessed the pretty woman behind the counter would no doubt ask me how the wedding had gone, or she’d wonder why I wasn’t on some exotic island having passionate sex with my new bride.
At around six, my best friend—and best manas was—Tom Fielding, art gallery manager extraordinaire—walked into my office without knocking. He plonked himself down on the edge of my desk and picked up my hole punch. Turning it round, he pressed it up and down, making it look like a mouth. ‘Come on, Hunter. We’re going to get you shit-faced.’
‘Hello, Tom. I’m good thanks. Do come into my place of work and make yourself at home, won’t you?’
He slammed the hole punch back on the desk. ‘Sod off, you grumpy, sarcastic git. Just ?cause you got dumped at the altar, there’s no need to take it out on me.’
Shocked at the callousness of his words, I looked up and found him grinning.Prick.I smiled in spite of myself. ‘Bugger off.’
Tom threw his head back with a hearty laugh. ‘Come on, mate. You’re better off without her. Think of all the Edinburgh totty just waiting for you to pick them up.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Oh, yeah. They’re all falling over themselves to meetme.’
‘Oh, pack it in with the ‘woe is me’ crap. You’re a bloody good-looking bloke and you know it.’
I didn’t know it. Well, not really. I looked after myself and spent an hour at the gym after work every day, and was known to take advantage of the gym in the apartment block on weekends too, so sure, I had a good physique. But I had been called a pretty boy by the guys I endured at school and then by some of the tossers I encountered at uni. So ‘good-looking’ wasn’t really a phrase I generally associated with myself.
I heaved a sigh and let my shoulders sag. ‘Look, Tom. I can’t be arsed with going out. I’ve just got no energy for it. Work is manic and this whole thing with Elise… I’m drained.’
‘Bullshit. It’s Friday night. You were dumped a week ago. It’s time to get on with your life. Come on. We’re meeting the lads down at that dingy place just off Princes Street. It should be a laugh.’
I rolled my eyes, even more determined not to go. ‘That ridiculous karaoke joint you’ve been going on about? What’s it called?Debasement? The name says it all really. You must be joking. I’d rather cut my ears off with paper.’
He laughed, his shoulders shuddering in the process. ‘Nutter. It’s a play on words, you know? It’s actually inde basementofde oldbank. I think it’s dead clever.’
Scrunching my brow and folding my arms like a sulking teenager, I informed him: ‘Yeah, well I don’t care how clever it is. And it could be on the sodding roof of Edinburgh Castle for all I care. The answer isno.’
It appeared my attempts to convince him to leave me to wallow fell on deaf ears and eventually he cajoled me into agreement. ‘You know you want to. Think of how hilarious it’ll be to stand there, pint in hand, and take the piss out of all the arses who think they can sing.’
