Much Ado About Sweet Nothing

by Alison May

  I have thought about that. I will need to go to the toilet. I’ll probably need to go quite soon. I’ve sort of planned it though. If I get out of bed very slowly and walk very carefully I think I can hold my head level and still while I go. That way it won’t really feel like I’ve moved at all, and I can come straight back to bed and carry on.

  ‘I could bring you some food.’

  I do wish that people would stop trying to feed me. My dad tried to make me eat last night, and then again this morning. I really don’t feel like it. I don’t see the need. I’m just being still. It’s not really using any energy at all.

  Trix seems annoyed at my unresponsiveness. I am sorry about that. I don’t want to make people angry, but I’m not asking them to come in and see me. I’d be perfectly content if they just left me all alone here. She reaches out and puts her hand on my cheek. I let her. I hope she doesn’t go any further. If I have to move to stop her touching me I shall be very cross I think.

  My lack of reaction must be off-putting. She withdraws the hand.

  ‘Do you want to talk about yesterday?’

  Do I want to talk about yesterday? I don’t really know what I would say. I will have to talk about it to people who weren’t there I suppose, but Trix was there, so she knows what happened. I don’t really know what I would tell her. Trix pats my face again.

  ‘I’ll leave you for a little bit then, shall I?’

  She stands up and walks over to the doorway.

  ‘I’ll just be downstairs. Let us know if you need anything.’

  There is one thing. I haven’t asked Dad because I know he’s just been here, but Trix has been out there in the world. I swallow. My mouth feels clammy and sort of clogged up.

  ‘Have you talked to Claudio?’

  She shakes her head. I do hope he’s OK. Maybe when I go to the toilet I shall check to see if he’s phoned. I definitely shall. I’ll just be still here for a few more minutes first.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Claudio

  I reckon they’re gonna try to chuck me out of here soon. Ok, so I haven’t shaved, or showered, and I probably smell like someone who slept in their car, but that wouldn’t be a fair assumption at all. In fact, I slept in Ben’s car, so that’s completely different. Having said that, I am still wearing a full morning suit, so I think I’m pretty much raising the tone.

  It’s quite a nice pub. I brought Henri here once, about a year ago, just before I went to Italy. We sat outside all afternoon. It’s about a five-mile walk back into town, and we ended up staggering in the dark. I drink some more beer.

  The bar staff are giving me dirty looks, so I move away from the bar and into the beer garden. The inside is full of families enjoying Sunday lunch. They’re kind of oppressive anyway. Outside there’s a small gaggle of smokers around the porch but no one else. It’s not warm, so at least I should be left alone out here to drink my beer.

  There’s two girls smoking a bit away from anyone else. I decide to have a crack. Gotta get back on the horse, as they say. I wander over to them. I don’t bother trying to look casual. You see people tying themselves in knots trying not to look too interested, and then tying themselves even further up in knots wondering how to let the other person know they are interested. Nothing wrong with making your intentions clear. Attracted, attractive and not too sleazy. A bit of humour usually takes care of the last one. I flash my best Italian stallion smile at them. ‘All right, ladies.’

  They nod and turn their bodies away from me. Playing hard to get, huh? This is where you use humour to avoid coming off as sleazy. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t bite.’

  They look at me. One of them, the prettier one, actually wrinkles her nose. I mean, OK, as I said, I could probably use a shower, but it can’t be that bad.

  I shrug. ‘Just being friendly.’

  Maybe this time, discretion is the better part of whatever. As I walk off towards the tables in the garden I can hear them giggling. I tell myself it’s probably at something else.

  I sit down and sip my beer. I suppose I will have to go home eventually. Apparently the need to shower is more urgent than I thought. I didn’t go back last night. I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want to have to answer any questions. I didn’t want to have to tell the story again. I feel like I’ve been a fool. I can’t believe I was sucked in by the idea of her being so sweet and pure and naïve. I feel like I’ve been sold a right lemon.

  I finish my beer and head inside to get another. I have to scrape all my change together to pay for it, after the barmaid informs me, that they only take cards if Sir is ordering food. Well Sir doesn’t want food. Sir wants beer. I manage to pay for my pint and head back outside.

  My phone’s ringing. It’s been ringing on and off since yesterday. Mum, Danny, Deano, who’s got a nerve to be ringing me at all, and now Ben. He called yesterday a couple of times right after, but this is the first time today. I haven’t talked to anyone since I walked out of the church, but all my clothes are at his flat, and I’ve got his car. At some point I am going to have to talk to Ben, even if I never talk to anyone else. I answer it.

  ‘Where the hell are you?’

  I tell him.

  ‘Have you still got my car?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How pissed are you?’

  ‘A bit.’

  ‘How pissed?’

  I remember the girl wrinkling her nose, and am vaguely aware that I’d thought that ‘Don’t worry. I won’t bite,’ could be classed as humour. Ben takes my silence as not having heard, and asks again.

  ‘Seriously, how pissed?’

  I mumble the answer. ‘Very.’

  I can hear him sighing on the other end of the phone. I don’t have to listen to know what he’s going to say next.

  ‘Stay there. I’ll find a cab and come get you.’

  He is my brother, after all.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Claudio

  Sixteen years ago

  ‘I don’t have to listen to you.’

  ‘No. You don’t, but I think you should.’

  ‘Don’t have to.’

  Ben is holding his hand up in front of his eyes to shield them against the sun, and squinting as he stares up at me in the tree. ‘You don’t have to, but I’m telling you that if you crawl further out on that branch it will snap and you will land on the concrete and probably smash your face on the floor.’

  My big brother is the dullest, nerdiest sixteen-year-old you’ve ever heard of. I’m stuck with him all summer because Mum and Dad are dead busy with tourists at work. At least I don’t have to do what he says.

  I swing my legs around and sit on the branch. Then I shuffle my weight back a bit towards the trunk. Ben’s not right about it snapping though; I just want to be nearer the trunk.

  ‘We did about birth certificates at school yesterday.’

  Ben doesn’t hear. He’s sat down on the steps near the bottom of the tree, and is pulling a book out of his bag.

  ‘What you reading?’

  ‘A book.’

  ‘Looks boring.’

  ‘It’s not.’

  ‘I’m bored.’

  He doesn’t react. He seems to have gone off into the book. I kick my leg against the tree. It hurts.

  ‘I can see Mum and Dad’s restaurant from up here.’

  Ben glances behind him. ‘I can see Mum and Vittore’s restaurant from down here.’

  ‘Why’d you call him Vittore?’

  Ben shrugs.

  ‘Sometimes you call him Dad.’

  He shrugs again.

  ‘We did about birth certificates at school.’

  Ben puts his book down. ‘And?’

  ‘And nuffin’.’

  ‘Really?’

  I nod. ‘I don’t have to do what you tell me though.’

  Ben lays down on his back, and pulls his sunglasses down over his eyes, so I can’t see where he’s looking.

  ‘Tell me what you learnt abou
t birth certificates, short stuff.’

  ‘I’m nearly as tall as you.’ It’s true. I’ve had new school trousers twice this year.

  ‘Yeah. You’re tall like Dad.’

  ‘They said that everyone has to have a birth certificate, and on it it says your mum’s name, and if your mum’s married to your dad, it says his name too.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘So Deano’s just has his mum on it?’

  Ben shrugs. ‘I guess.’

  ‘So I asked Mum if I could see my birth certificate.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Was boring.’ Well, it was. It just said where and when I was born and that Mum and Dad were my mum and dad.

  ‘Right.’ Ben sits up and pushes his sunglasses back. ‘Anything else?’

  I shake my head. Ben’s staring up at me again. ‘I’m guessing you asked to see my birth certificate.’

  ‘Might’ve.’

  ‘And did Mum show you it?’

  I shake my head. She wouldn’t. She said she didn’t know where it was, but it was right there in the envelope with mine. I saw Ben’s name on the top when she took mine out. Then she put the envelope back in the drawer and said it was time for her to go to work and that I should go and make sure Ben was up before she went out. When I went back to look again the whole envelope had gone.

  Ben shrugs. ‘Maybe she couldn’t find it.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  I don’t want to talk about this any more, so I decide to try and get a bit further out along the branch. I reckon if I get a bit further along I’ll be able to get a view of the sea.

  ‘Claudio!’

  I pause and twist around to have a look at Ben. As I twist I feel my knee slip off the branch; without thinking about it I sense my foot scrabbling at the air trying to get a hold back on the branch, but it’s too late. I know I’m going to fall before I do. My own weight pulls me sideways and I’m heading for the ground.

  I can make out voices a long way away. One of them is Ben, and it sounds like he’s shouting. Then it goes quiet.

  When I wake up I’m in bed. Mum and Dad are sitting by the bed. I can hear them before I work out how to make my eyes open.

  ‘Well, Ben was supposed to be watching him.’ That was my dad.

  ‘It was an accident.’

  ‘Well, that’s what he says.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘I just mean, that if that boy spent a little bit less time trying to build some sort of super-computer in his bedroom, then maybe my son wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed.’

  I concentrate on making my eyes open, and then blink a few times. It feels scratchy.

  ‘Darling!’ My mum is leaning over me. ‘Vittore, find a nurse.’

  My dad goes running from the room, while Mum talks at me. ‘Do you remember what happened?’

  I nod. Talking still seems a bit of a challenge.

  ‘You fell from a tree. Ben had to call an ambulance.’

  I nod again, and manage to look around. Where is Ben anyway?

  ‘They had to put a pin in your knee.’ For the first time I notice that my left leg is kind of numb. A pin sounds cool though. ‘You’ve been asleep since then, but the doctors say you’re going to be fine.’

  I nod again, and try to form a word. ‘Ben?’

  Mum nods. ‘He’s outside.’

  A woman in a white coat comes in with Dad, and so I can’t see Ben till after she’s finished prodding me. When I’ve wiggled my toes and told her what year it is about three times I’m allowed to have visitors.

  Ben comes in still carrying the book he was reading in the park. There’s a dark red mark across the cover. I lift my finger to point at it. ‘Blood?’

  Ben nods. ‘Yup. Came out of you,that did.’

  ‘Cool. Ben?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What we were talking about before ...’

  I see Ben look over at Mum and Dad. ‘We can talk about that later.’

  ‘No.’

  Ben looks really uncomfortable. ‘Really. Not now.’

  ‘No. Not ever. I just think …’ I’m not quite sure how to explain this, but I’m absolutely sure that I’m right. ‘I just don’t think it matters, does it?’

  Ben swallows. ‘No. I don’t think so.’

  ‘Right.’

  Ben turns his back on the bed, and Mum starts talking. When I look back at Ben his face looks kind of blotchy, like with girls when they’ve been crying.

  Chapter Forty

  Ben

  I opt for just wandering around hoping I can spot him. It seems somehow less embarrassing than accosting a barman and asking if they’ve seen a guy in full morning dress crying into his beer. He’s not in the bar, so I check the car park, where I find my car. Claudio isn’t with it. Eventually, I locate him in the beer garden, still, as expected, wearing yesterday’s suit. He’s got his head down on the table next to a stack of glasses. He looks up as I sit down opposite him.

  ‘Ben!’

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘How did you get here?’

  ‘Taxi.’ They actually sent the same taxi driver who picked us up this morning. He’s not getting a representative picture of my social life. A hotel pick-up still in last night’s clothes, followed by a mercy run to an out-of-the way pub, is not my usual Sunday. It’s normally much more PlayStation oriented than this.

  ‘Do you want a beer?’

  ‘No, thank you.’ I don’t quite know what to say to him. He’s not dead, and not obviously bleeding. I sort of feel I’ve done my brotherly duty. I suspect Mum won’t agree until he’s actually at home, cleaned and fed, and ideally sobered-up. ‘Have you been here all night?’

  He shrugs. From the state of him, I’m guessing that’s a Yes. This isn’t the sort of situation I’m good for. I should probably be asking him how he feels, trying get him to open up or something. If Trix had her way I’d be punching him but I’m not well equipped for that either. Claudio works out. He actually goes to the gym four times a week all year round, not just three times in January and then never again. If Trix had really wanted me to kill him it would have to have been a slow poisoning. I tell myself to stop thinking about Trix. If punching isn’t an option, I realise, it has to be talking. ‘So why here?’

  ‘Didn’t want to come back to the flat.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Didn’t want to talk to anyone.’

  ‘There wasn’t anyone there.’ Didn’t mean to tell him that. I think last night’s events are best neatly compartmentalized with the mental equivalent of ‘Police – do not cross’ tape across the entrance to that part of my brain.

  Claudio looks at me. ‘Where were you?’

  ‘Mum and Dad’s.’ It’s not a great lie. If he mentions it to them he’ll find out that it’s a lie. Hopefully, he’s too preoccupied to remember.

  He puts his head back down on the table and mutters something.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Is Mum freaked?’

  ‘Just a bit.’

  ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’

  ‘Well, it is sort of your fault.’ See; I’m a total natural at this sympathy lark.

  He sticks his head back up. ‘It’s not my fault.’

  ‘So it’s Henri’s?’

  The head is back straight on the table. ‘How is she?’

  ‘Not seen her. Tony took her home.’

  ‘I bet she’s really milking the sympathy. Poor little Henrietta. Daddy’s little princess can do no wrong.’

  ‘She was really upset, like in shock.’ So I can’t actually kill him. That doesn’t mean he gets a free ride.

  ‘She was the one that was screwing around.’

  ‘With Deano?’ Even though I knew this was where we were going, I still can’t believe it.

  ‘So even you knew? My own brother, and you didn’t think to tell me? You didn’t say anything!’

  ‘Woah! I heard it from John last night. You don’t believe it?’


  ‘I know what I saw.’

  ‘And what did you see?’

  ‘Her, precious little Henrietta with Deano. He was at her flat.’

  ‘And from that you get that she’s shagging around?’

  ‘Yes.’ He really is certain. I don’t know how, but I’m convinced that John did this. Somehow the pieces are starting to fit. There are still some big gaps, but John looked so pleased with himself last night. There’s definitely something there.

  ‘So, Deano was leaving Henri’s flat, at a time when you just happened to be passing, with John, who you don’t even like and don’t really socialise with.’

  ‘He called me. At least he thought I should know the truth.’

  ‘Right. So he called you and took you to stand outside your fiancée’s flat, and you didn’t ask him how he knew Deano was there? You didn’t ask Deano, who’s been your mate since childhood, what was going on? You didn’t ask the woman you were planning to marry what was going on?’

  ‘I saw it. I didn’t need to ask anyone.’

  ‘You twat.’ It’s not a well-formulated point in my argument, but I think it is one that needed making. Henrietta may actually be better off without him.

  ‘So you saw what John took you to see, and you’re now convinced that Henrietta was having an affair with Deano?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Claudio

  I can tell Ben’s not impressed, but I don’t care. I’m not about to start taking advice on my love life from him. The man has no soul. He doesn’t feel like a normal human being would. And I know what I saw. John had taken a picture on his phone of Deano going into her flat, and then we both saw him coming out. She cuddled him on the doorstep, and he’d brought her flowers. Straight men do not bring flowers for no reason, and I already know he thinks she’s fit.

  Ben closes his eyes and tilts his head back away from me. He always does that when he’s stressed. Trix says it’s a way of him screening out inconvenient human interference. She’s probably right. She usually is about Ben.

  Eventually he starts talking. ‘Walk me through it again.’