Superpowerless

by Chris Priestley

  ‘Come on, Donna,’ says Marie. ‘He’s a teenage boy. Have you seen the way she lies out there in her bikini? Shouldn’t be allowed. Mind you, if I had a figure like that I’d do the same.’

  ‘What do you think, Mark?’ says David.

  ‘He knows better than to say,’ says Marie.

  Marie laughs. Mark doesn’t say a word. He’s been staring at David with a fixed expression on his face ever since David mentioned Holly’s name. David does his best to avoid direct eye contact with him, but Mark’s gaze bores into him regardless.

  ‘So tell us about this girl of yours,’ says Marie.

  ‘Ellen,’ says David.

  ‘Ellen. Someone from school, is it?’

  David nods. His mother studies him as he speaks, making him falter slightly.

  ‘Yeah … I’ve known her for a while, but we’ve only just started going out.’

  ‘This is all news to me,’ says his mother, frowning and putting her cutlery down. ‘You’ve never mentioned an Ellen.’

  Why would he? What does that prove?

  ‘You’re always saying I never see people.’

  ‘I’m not complaining,’ she says. ‘It’s lovely if you have a girlfriend. But that’s the point. You never go out. How on earth have you managed to see each other? I just don’t get the need for the secrecy, that’s all. Why would you not tell me. Is it serious?’

  ‘Mum,’ he says, rolling his eyes. ‘This is why I never said anything.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘But it’s OK to ask, surely? I’d like to meet her sometime.’

  ‘All right,’ says David. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘OK then,’ she says. ‘More chicken, Mark?’

  Mark is still staring at David, oblivious to the conversation around him.

  ‘Mark?’

  ‘Sorry – what?’

  ‘You all right, darling?’ says Marie. ‘Not thinking about Holly sunbathing, I hope.’

  ‘What? Me? No. Of course not,’ he says. ‘I’m fine.’

  He takes a swig of wine and turns to face her with a tight smile. Then he says he would love some more chicken and the conversation moves on and away from David and Ellen and Holly.

  David is soon forgotten and sits apart studying the other three – but Mark in particular. He is playing his part in the conversation, but whereas he might normally be expected to dominate it, he is, that evening, a far more reserved presence, content, for once, to let Marie do most of the talking.

  David enjoys the feeling of power – enjoys seeing Mark rattled. He clearly did not like David mentioning Holly, but what could he do? David smiles and finishes his wine while the pudding plates are being cleared away.

  ‘Do you mind if I leave the table?’ he says.

  ‘No – that’s all right,’ says his mother. ‘You get off.’

  ‘G’night, David,’ says Marie. ‘Sleep tight.’

  ‘Goodnight,’ he says, looking straight at Mark, who looks straight back at him, saying nothing.

  David climbs the stairs with a satisfied spring in his step. There has been a shift in power towards him and he likes it. He likes it a lot.

  Chapter 35

  Man to Man

  The next day comes round bright and sunny and filled with the babble of birdsong. David gets up and prises open a couple of slats in his Venetian blinds and squints out into the blazing morning daylight, still smiling to himself at Mark’s discomfort the previous evening. Jerk.

  The scaffolders are back. They are dismantling the scaffolding with breathtaking ease, dropping twenty-foot-long poles to each other as the edifice speedily reduces in height.

  The workmen whistle and call to each other, laughing and singing while they work, with that careless, inconsiderate air that builders always have, owning whatever space they’re in without regard for the people around them.

  Boards and poles clatter down to be carried to a waiting truck while the clamps that held them in place are in turn hurled down and taken away. David watches the whole process, fascinated. Soon the whole building is clear and it’s as though they have never been – apart from the presence of the new window and the neat new slates.

  He gets dressed and trots downstairs. There is a note on the table from his mother saying she is out for the day, which triggers some vague memory that she was talking at dinner about having to go to London.

  There is a twenty-pound note next to the message, which tells him to go and buy a small list of supplies as well as whatever he fancies for lunch. David pockets the money and goes to the sink, fills a glass with water and drinks, almost dropping it on the floor as he turns to see Mark standing in the kitchen.

  ‘What the f—’

  ‘Language!’ says Mark with a smile.

  His presence is so incongruous, David wonders for a moment if he is dreaming.

  ‘How did you get in?’ says David looking round the room. ‘What are –’

  ‘Calm down. We have a spare key. For emergencies.’

  ‘So my mum’s out?’

  ‘Yeah. Or I wouldn’t have needed the key.’

  ‘W-what’s the emergency?’ says David. ‘Why not ring the doorbell?’

  Mark sighs. For once he doesn’t look completely in control. His voice has an edge to it. He’s holding himself back.

  ‘The emergency? The emergency is that you appear to want to wreck my marriage.’

  ‘Me?’ says David. ‘How am I supposed to be doing that?’

  Mark takes a step closer. The smile has disappeared.

  ‘I love my wife. Can you understand that?’

  ‘Not really,’ says David.

  ‘Don’t think you can judge me,’ says Mark.

  David says nothing.

  ‘Look, I’ve spoken to Holly,’ says Mark, his voice calmer again. ‘I figured she must have said something to you.’

  ‘About what?’

  Mark bows his head and waits a few moments before resuming.

  ‘Don’t make this more difficult than it is, David,’ he says. ‘OK? I know you know. If you wanted it to be a secret, you should have watched what you were saying.

  ‘Like I said – I’d assumed Holly had let something slip when she was here cleaning. But then she told me you’d found out … via your little spying game.’

  These words hit David in the stomach like a punch. Holly told on him.

  ‘I don’t think that’s what your dad had in mind when he bought you that scope, is it?’

  ‘Don’t talk about my dad,’ says David. ‘Don’t –’

  Mark holds a hand up.

  ‘OK. Low blow. I’m sorry. But you’ll understand that I’m under a great deal of stress.’

  ‘It’s not my fault that you –’

  ‘Look, I’m not here to fight with you, David. It’s really none of your business at the end of the day, now, is it? But you promised Holly you would keep your mouth shut, so just keep your promise. OK?’

  David scowls at him but eventually nods.

  ‘And don’t start talking about Holly around my wife. Or I’m afraid we will fall out.’

  David stares at him. Is that a threat? It feels like a threat. He is filled with rage all of a sudden – for Mark, for Holly. He would like to just walk up to Mark and grab him by the throat and crush him, smash him to atoms. But he knows he can’t. He mustn’t.

  ‘Do you think I don’t know what’s going on here?’

  David doesn’t answer. He doesn’t want to talk to him any more.

  ‘With you spying on Holly? Zooming in on her lovely flesh with your little telescope? And it is lovely, let me tell you. You’re jealous, right? Of me – who gets to touch that body rather than just look at it? Fair play to you. I get that.

  ‘But this isn’t a fantasy, David. This isn’t a game or one of your comics. She won’t have told you why she had to leave college but –’

  ‘She has. She told me everything.’

  ‘Really?’ says Mark sceptically.

  David says nothing. />
  ‘Then you know? OK. I hadn’t realised you two were so close.’

  ‘We talk,’ says David.

  Mark nods. He puts his hands together, palm to palm, like he’s praying.

  ‘You feel angry with me. OK. That’s OK. I’m cheating on my wife – your mother’s friend – and I’m screwing a girl you’d like to screw yourself. OK. I get it.’

  David wants to hit him. Hard. Over and over again – pulverise him. He wishes Mark knew what he was capable of – what restraint he is showing.

  ‘But you can’t punish me without punishing her – or Marie or the kids. That’s just … well, that’s just the way it is.’

  ‘That suits you, doesn’t it? And anyway, why should I care?’

  Mark smiles.

  ‘But you do though, don’t you? Not about me, clearly – maybe not even about my family. But about Holly.’

  ‘No.’

  Mark smiles.

  ‘Listen, David,’ says Mark. ‘I’ve said all I have to say. You’ll do whatever you have to do in the end, but Holly won’t thank you for causing trouble.’

  He steps closer to David. His face softens and he looks almost tearful. He’s desperate; David can see it in his eyes.

  ‘I like you, David. I’ve done more than my fair share for you and your mother. I know you’re pissed off with me now – but I was there when everything went to pieces.’

  David hates him all the more for mentioning this – because it’s true. He was.

  ‘Come on,’ says Mark, growing quiet now. ‘Please. I’m asking you, man to man, to give me – and my family – a break. They didn’t do anything. This is my mess. They did nothing and it would be them who’d suffer the most. Things have got a bit crazy but I’ll sort them out, I promise.’

  David shrugs.

  ‘OK,’ he says.

  Mark smiles.

  ‘Thanks, David – I owe you one.’

  David sits on the sofa when Mark leaves, staring at the blank black screen of the television and simmering with cold fury over Holly telling Mark about the scope.

  He knows Mark is hardly in a position to say anything about it to David’s mother, and he realises that it is not the indiscretion but the mere fact that Holly would confide in him at all.

  It had not really occurred to David that they might talk – any more than it had clearly occurred to Mark that Holly might talk to David.

  David saw them in his mind’s eye simply having sex – and even that was problematic enough, in that while he liked imagining the sex, he did not want Mark there in his thoughts, naked, and naked with Holly.

  At no point has he seen them chatting to each other. It makes it seem more of a relationship and harder to dismiss in the way he had up until that moment. It makes them seem close when David had tricked himself into believing that Holly saved that closeness for him.

  And this simply makes David all the more furious, because he realises how ridiculous and childish it would sound if he tried to explain that to anyone. Not that he had anyone other than Holly he could explain it to.

  Ironically.

  Chapter 36

  End-of-a-Film Finality

  The text from Joe is short even for him and terse even by text standards. He replies telling him to meet him by the tennis courts. He has a desperate urge to confide in Joe.

  ‘You told your mother we went to that festival together,’ says Joe.

  David can feel the anger glowing, cold and hot at the same time. He nods, wary of saying anything that might tip him over the edge.

  ‘I specifically said no.’

  David nods.

  ‘Look, I know,’ he says quietly. ‘It’s just that –’

  ‘I don’t want to hear it, OK?’

  David has never heard this particular tone to Joe’s voice. It’s not harsh or even especially aggressive. It’s distant. Final.

  ‘I know, I know,’ says David. ‘But just let me –’

  ‘Lie? Bullshit? I don’t think so.’

  ‘I’m not going to lie. Come on.’

  ‘Well, that would be a first anyway.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to –’

  Joe snarls at him.

  ‘I stuck up for you, man. From the start. Through all the lies and weirdness and shit. You know – after your dad died and you started making stuff up. I defended you. It wasn’t always easy. I never asked for thanks. I just want to have some respect, you know?’

  ‘Respect? What are you on about? I respect you. Why wouldn’t I? How do you even know anyway?’

  Joe takes a step forward. David takes another step back.

  ‘Because,’ he says between gritted teeth, ‘your mother bumped into me yesterday and asked me about it! That’s how.’

  David groans.

  ‘Fuck,’ says David. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I didn’t have the faintest idea what she was talking about, did I? You didn’t even bother to tell me about the shitty lie you involved me in.’

  ‘But you didn’t say that? You didn’t say you didn’t know what she was taking about?’

  Joe shakes his head, a wry smile on his face. David puffs out a breath.

  ‘Thank Christ for that.’

  Joe’s smile disappears.

  ‘I tried to cobble something together but it was too late. She knew I was lying.’

  ‘Knew … or just suspected?’

  ‘Knew.’

  ‘Shit!’ says David. ‘That’s why she’s been acting weird. Damn it. You’re sure she –’

  ‘Of course she knew. She’s not an idiot. I know you think we’re all stupid …’

  David’s not listening. He paces round and round trying to assimilate the new information and predict the fallout. No matter how he turns it over in his mind, the outcome is never good.

  ‘I should’ve told you that I’d used you as cover,’ says David after a moment. ‘I should have told you I was going to stick with the festival plan. Then you’d have been prepared.’

  Joe lurches at him but stops short of actually grabbing him. He has told himself over and over that he will stay in control. But it’s proving harder than he thought.

  ‘Then I’d have been prepared? Then I’d have been prepared? You selfish shit!’

  ‘All right. Sorry. For fuck’s sake.’

  ‘You don’t get it, do you?’ says Joe. ‘You asked me, and I told you no! I told you no and you just went right on and did it anyway.’

  ‘And I’ve said I’m sorry,’ says David.

  ‘You’ve said it, but you don’t feel it, do you?’ says Joe. ‘You knew I liked your mum.’

  ‘What?’ says David. ‘What has that got to do with anything? And why “liked”? She isn’t going to blame you. Besides – I’ll tell her I dropped you in it. It’ll be f—’

  ‘You made me lie to her!’ shouts Joe. ‘You made me look like I’m the kind of person who doesn’t give a fuck, and I do give a fuck. I’m not a liar. Not everyone is, David.’

  David takes a deep breath and sighs.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry,’ he says, ‘but I think you’re going a bit over the top. It’s me that’s going to get grief for this, not you. I just –’

  ‘Shut up, David,’ says Joe.

  ‘Look, what is this?’ says David. ‘I think I’d rather you just thumped me.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ says Joe. ‘It could still happen.’

  David can see by Joe’s odd demeanour that this isn’t an idle threat. He can’t get in a fight with Joe. It’s too dangerous. David tries to concentrate – to sharpen his mind. He needs to stay in control. For Joe’s sake.

  ‘I am sorry,’ he says. ‘Honestly. Whether you believe me or not.’

  ‘I believe you,’ says Joe, his eyes half closed and looking away as if looking at David is painful to him. ‘I believe you’re sorry – sorry about pissing me off – sorry about lying to your mum. But I also think you’re mainly just sorry you were caught and you’d do the same thing tomorrow. Like that!’
/>
  Joe turns to face him with this last line and snaps his fingers in David’s face. David opens his mouth to respond but his brain hasn’t supplied him with the words he means to deliver.

  ‘If the same thing happened,’ says Joe, ‘if you thought you needed to lie more than you thought you needed to keep me as a mate, you’d do the same, you know you would.’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ says David. ‘Neither do you.’

  Would he? Is Joe right?

  ‘We’ve been mates for ages,’ says Joe, a weak smile flickering for a moment. ‘Since we were little.’

  David can see now that Joe isn’t so much angry as upset and he doesn’t want David to see how upset he is. That’s why he’s refusing to catch his eye.

  ‘But I don’t want a mate who’s gonna lie to me – or make me a liar for him. I’m sorry.’

  David stands there, baffled as to what he is supposed to say other than repeat – again – that he is sorry.

  ‘What? Are you splitting up with me?’ he says, with a smirk.

  ‘See you,’ says Joe.

  And then he walks away with such an end-of-a-film finality to it that David has to suck back on the sob that threatens to burst out of him.

  Chapter 37

  Like It’s Unravelling

  David wonders if his mother is ever going to mention the fact that she has caught him in this lie. He toys with the idea of confessing but wonders if that will only make it worse. He has missed the opportunity to own up and he knows it. You can’t really confess to something someone already knows. Instead it is two whole, tense days before she finally looks him in the face – and with the expression he knows means trouble.

  ‘I spoke to Joe,’ she says.

  They are having breakfast. Has she been preparing for this all night? She looks tired.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Well?’

  Her voice is constricted – angry and sad. He puts his spoon down and looks her in the eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  She slams her mug down on the table, tea splashing over the side. David jumps. Flashes of temper from his mother are rare, and all the more startling because of it.

  ‘You’re sorry? You’re sorry?’