Man: Wanted: Chapter Seven - Part Ten

It was Sangeeta who closed the front door in the end. I was too busy looking stunned; running Billy’s words back through my mind.

“You okay?” she said. “You look kind of put out.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t realise your sister was married.”

“What? Who?”

“Alison. Your sister.” She smiled. “I didn’t know she was married. And to such a dishy guy.” She laughed. “Though a little bit slim and arty for my tastes. He looks like he might break in bed.” She gripped two fistfuls of my shirt, front and back, level with my belly button. “Not like my man.”

I broke off, feeling distracted, my mind elsewhere.

“Hey,” she said. “Are you alright?” I didn’t turn to face her and she came to my side. “Geoff? Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah. I guess. I’m fine.” I walked into the kitchen and she followed. “I got some blue Stilton and biscuits for afters and I have some port. Do you want some?”

“Okay. Yeah. Why not?”

She was watching me as I got the items together; gauging me. We went back through to the lounge and sat down, this time me on the armchair, her on the corner of the sofa. I poured us two dainty glasses full of port and cracked open the biscuits and cheese. We started helping ourselves but Sangeeta kept watch on me. I could feel her eyes but my own thoughts weren’t on where I was or what we were doing. I couldn’t stop thinking about Billy.

“Tell me about him,” said Sangeeta. “What happened between those two?”

“Billy?”

“And Alison.”

I looked off, casting my mind back, and realised that the memories I had of that back-story was in the third person. I didn’t have the Alison memories that tied me intimately to the chain of events. Instead I had memories of conversations after the fact; snippets of tales of the good times and bad times of “my sister.” Those memories tied me into the role of passive observer but seeing Billy again had still brought back the pain and yearning of my real subsumed emotions. It was contradictory and difficult to reconcile, but I found myself talking nonetheless.

“They were really in love. But like comets, you know? It was all fire and passion and spontaneity; sudden trips to Paris or Egypt; champagne cocktails on the beach in Thailand. But...”

“But?”

I shrugged. “Alison loved him like he was... a drug she was hooked on. With this... desperation. Like she couldn’t breathe without him there. It was... It was sort of inspiring, but it was also...”

“Creepy?”

“No. Not creepy. It was just so intense. And we all... everybody thought it would burn out in a couple of months. But they got married. Spontaneously of course. In Edinburgh. Nobody else there; just the two of them.”

“It’s romantic.”

“Yeah. It was.” I gazed off for a while.

“And then did it burn out?”

“No. It just went on burning hot. For months. And then a year. And then two.”

“But something went wrong. It must have.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t... remember all the details now; but Billy was self-absorbed and selfish and he was fine when things were going his way. But he... got made redundant from his high flying job and all these cracks were there underneath them suddenly that they hadn’t noticed ‘cause they were moving so fast.

“Suddenly they couldn’t hop on a plane to Milan anymore and... Alison’s dressmaking business wasn’t bringing in much of anything. They were this pair of star-crossed lovers suddenly stuck in an episode of Eastenders set in the arse end of Coventry.”

“They got a divorce?” asked Sangeeta.

“No. Separated. His idea.”

“She wanted to stay with him?”

I nodded. “He acted like a real tosser, but she... She would have forgiven him anything. And she kept hoping he would admit some fault; work on sorting things out; rebuild their lives together.”

“Are you okay?” She touched my arm. “You look like you’re the one it happened to.”

“Huh?” I shook my head. “Sorry. I just need a minute. Do you mind?” I got up, leaving her seated. “I just need a minute to think.”

I went to the doorway, paused to look back at her, then climbed the stairs.