Tigers on the Run

by Sean Kennedy

  I’ve met that person. I was going to write “I think I’ve met that person,” but that would be wrong. I know it, deep within my waters. To doubt I have found my soul mate would be a lie.

  I wasn’t even looking for him. If you’re a regular reader you would know I have been going through quite a bad patch with other men. Quite a long, horrendous patch, really. I came to the decision that I would stay single, and would probably be better off that way.

  And then I met him.

  It was a total surprise, because I found him in the last place I would ever expect: in the base of my enemy.

  It’s not easy falling in love with someone when they happen to be friends and colleagues with someone who has gone out of their way to make your life difficult in the past. It hasn’t been easy for my new partner either, as he has a strange affection and sense of loyalty for this person and stated in no uncertain terms that if he started seeing me he would never let himself be put in the middle of us.

  At first I rebelled. I wanted to be number one in his world. But then I realised that a true partnership includes trust, and knowing when to let that other person be himself. So now I have to be on my best behaviour, and hope that my enemy acts accordingly. After all, we both care about this person.

  I know I can keep my part of the arrangement. The other guy?

  I doubt it.

  “SO MUCH FOR him trying to behave himself,” I fumed, throwing the Reach Out in front of Declan.

  “I’m almost too afraid to look,” he said, spoon still halfway to his mouth and dripping milk onto the table.

  “Shall I read it to you?” I demanded. “Shall I?”

  “Just the important part?”

  I glared at him, and read out the section on the colleague.

  “Well, he doesn’t really say it’s you.”

  I remained silent.

  “Okay,” Dec conceded. “It is you.”

  “And he makes out that I’m going to be the one making this difficult, when he’s the one making passive-aggressive subtweets about me!”

  “It’s an article, not a tweet.”

  “I know what it is! I’m just too mad to think of the right word!”

  “References, maybe?”

  “Whatever. Anyway, I don’t care! If he wants trouble, I’ll make trouble!”

  Dec groaned and rubbed his temples. “Can’t you just be the better person?”

  “What if I don’t want to be the better person?”

  He looked back up at me. “I don’t believe that of you.”

  I hated how he could always say the right thing. Maybe I was starting to pick up his dreaded nobility.

  I didn’t like it as much as he did, though. I wished I could push Jasper Brunswick off a bridge.

  Again.

  Except deliberately this time.

  I SWANNED past Coby without a word, and he nervously followed me into my office.

  “Morning, boss.”

  “Back to boss again, are we? Fine.”

  “Huh?” he asked.

  “Don’t play dumb, Coby.”

  He sagged into one of the chairs. “You’ve seen it, then.”

  “I get the Reach Out delivered, remember? Was that article Jasper’s idea of being on his best behaviour? It’s really not what I was hoping for.” I stared my colleague down. “I mean, I don’t expect us ever to be coffee buddies, but he could dial down the sniping seeing we’ve supposedly lain down our arms.”

  “I think he thinks he has.”

  I snorted. “It seems like he’s heading for Waterloo. And he’s Napoleon, by the way.”

  “Did you not see what else he wrote? That I made rules? That I wasn’t going to be in the middle of you two?”

  “Oh, Coby,” I said. “Sweet, sweet, daft Coby. You’ve already picked your side. But that doesn’t matter anymore.”

  If possible, Coby grew more nervous. “Why?”

  I dramatically let silence fill the space between us.

  “You’re firing me,” Coby said in a monotone.

  “What?” That ratcheted up to eleven pretty quickly. “No!”

  “Then I’m confused.”

  “I’m being the better person. Or something very close to it.”

  “Really?”

  “Honestly, you don’t need to sound so cynical, Coby.” I realised I kept using his name as some kind of condescending barrier, but it was too late now. “I am capable of rising above things. And if Jasper sees me doing so, then maybe he’ll feel inclined to do the same.”

  “Uh huh.” Coby didn’t sound that convinced.

  “You can make me a coffee now.”

  He was so confused he didn’t even begin to whine about being my assistant, not my slave, or as I liked to call it, Coby Whine #22.

  “Don’t forget,” I called after him. “Only one sugar. I’m sweet enough as it is.”

  Even that didn’t get a comment from him.

  THE NEXT few days saw a strained atmosphere between Coby and me. He tried to gauge my reaction by mentioning Jasper far too often for my liking, but I countered every parlay with polite repose and even enquired after Jasper’s good health. Inside I might have been a kaleidoscope of exploding Jasper Brunswick heads, but Coby could never read me.

  No matter how hard he tried.

  “I want everybody to come over for dinner,” he announced on Wednesday. “I think it’s time Jasper got to know you all in a social setting.”

  I wanted to point out that we had all dealt with Jasper Brunswick many times before, but I knew what he was getting at. “Oh, as your boyfriend? I suppose it should happen sooner rather than later, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Coby echoed, watching me suspiciously for any sign that I was imagining carving up Jasper for the main course.

  I was. He had the apple in his mouth and everything. Everyone was grouped around the feast like a Norman Rockwell painting.

  “When?” I asked.

  “Are you free Friday?”

  “Even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t miss this for anything!”

  Okay, that one played a little too close to the line. But I kept smiling, and Coby had no choice but to take it on face value.

  “DINNER! DINNER with Jasper Brunswick!” I railed at Dec when I got home that night. “I’m only going if arsenic is the appetiser!”

  “For him, or for you?”

  “I don’t much care, quite frankly. Either way will have the desired effect of not having to deal with Jasper Brunswick for very long.”

  “Maybe, but I’d kind of like you not to die.”

  “Then we’ll make sure Jasper gets the poisoned chalice.”

  “Okay.”

  “It will really be helping Coby in the long run, anyway.”

  “I’m sure he’ll see it that way. He’ll probably be our character witness when we’re both up on a murder charge.”

  “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll take the rap.”

  “You will?”

  “Yeah. You would be much more skilled at busting someone out of prison than I would.”

  “Maybe it would be easier if we just went to dinner, acted polite, and left as soon as possible.”

  “Mr. Sensible,” I mocked him.

  “Like I said,” he kissed me lightly on the nose. “I want to keep you around.”

  “Just one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t leave me alone with him. Don’t give me the opportunity to fuck this up.”

  I was suddenly being crushed as he wrapped me in a bear hug. “I love you, Simon Murray.”

  “Thank you for not wanting me to murder somebody,” I whispered.

  “As long as you try your best, that’s all I ask.”

  FROM THE REACH OUT website, Jasper Brunswick’s blog page

  GETTING TO KNOW YOU

  In a new relationship, there is always the point where you have to get to know the friends. This can often be a nerve-racking experience, as you are scared of how they may respond to you. Will th
eir acceptance, or rejection, of you affect the feelings of your partner? Can it come down to having to choose a side? If so, you may be the unfortunate one who loses as you don’t have the weight of history that a friend carries. The extreme throes of love in the first few weeks of a relationship may not compare. So much can ride upon the opinions of a circle of friends.

  And what if they already know you? And in your previous dealings they have already formed an unfavourable impression of you? How do you win them over and get them to see you in a new light? And should you even bother? The die has already been cast; there’s not much you can do to start afresh with them. Your previous interactions will always be a dark cloud hanging over you all. What happens then?

  So many questions. So few answers.

  THE LIGHT on Coby’s veranda desperately tried to warn me of rocky shores ahead, but instead Declan was the ship that carried me on further without any regards to our safety. We were willingly throwing ourselves onto the half-hidden reef, and I cried out in pain as Declan’s hand tightened viselike over mine.

  “Sorry,” Dec said, a little too cheerfully for my liking.

  Okay, so that was a whole lot of purple prose and painful analogies, but I was feeling pretty shitty.

  “I told you I’d be on my best behaviour.”

  “I know, I know.” His tone reflected otherwise.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I do. I just hope that Coby’s convinced Jasper to do the same. Because then there may be no stopping either of you.”

  “We are adults.”

  His lack of reply made me drop his hand.

  “Kind of proving the point,” Dec called after me as I bounded ahead to the house.

  I flipped him the bird behind my back.

  “Even our nephews and nieces are more mature than you!”

  “Don’t care!”

  Dec’s sigh came from beside me; he had caught up and we now stood together before the front door. I turned to face him, as only the unadulterated expression of my partner’s exasperation with me could sober me so quickly—I had, after all, already drunk a whole bottle of wine to prepare myself for the evening. Declan looked at me, unaware he was turning on puppy dog eyes, a silent plea for me to watch myself tonight. I pulled him closer and went in for a kiss.

  He pulled away.

  “Hey!” I protested.

  “I’m just teasing you,” Dec said, only one corner of his lip upturned.

  I wasn’t impressed, but this time the kiss was his initiative, and we forgot where we were for a moment, clinging together in the open air, beneath a flickering porch light.

  Coby threw open the door before we even got to knock.

  “Hey ho!” he sang. “Sorry to interrupt!”

  “Your light needs fixing,” Dec told him, slightly embarrassed at being caught out.

  “I’ll get right on it. Actually, I’ll get Jasper right onto it. It’s so nice having a man around the house to do these things!”

  In case you couldn’t already tell, Coby had the flushed vigour of someone who had already gotten stuck into the vino—not that I would know anything about that. He gave Dec a kiss on the cheek that strayed perilously close to his lips.

  Before I even had a chance to say anything, I found I wasn’t exempt from such affection as Coby stumbled into my arms and I received a sloppy kiss that supposedly aimed for my cheek but landed upon my nose and slid down to my lips. “I’m so glad you’re here!” he yelled into my ear.

  I pushed him back, my ears ringing and my face wet like an overactive puppy had just drooled all over me.

  “You okay, Coby?” Declan asked.

  “Now that you’re here, I am!” He gave Dec a huge smile, but it was me who got another kiss.

  This was highly inappropriate behaviour towards a boss. “Here’s wine,” I said, disentangling myself from Coby’s embrace and shoving a bottle into his hand.

  “Excellent, I’ll pour!”

  “You do that.”

  As Coby ran up the hallway, I gave Dec a look, and he burst out laughing.

  “He’s happy,” Dec said.

  “He tried to snog you!”

  “He kissed you twice, not me. And got you on the mouth. And to think of the way you acted after I hugged Jasper Brunswick.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I said, wiping my mouth and nose dry with my sleeve. “I have never seen Coby like that before.”

  “He’s nervous.”

  “Nervous? Coby?”

  “First dinner with his boyfriend and his friends? Of course he’s nervous.”

  “It’s not like we don’t know his boyfriend.”

  Dec made his frequently used you are so dense expression. “Simon, that’s what’s making him nervous.”

  That made me smile. “Good.”

  “Wipe that evil grin off your face. Behave.”

  Coby called for us from the kitchen. A new face poked out from the lounge room into the hall.

  “I thought I heard you!” Roger ran down to greet us, dispensing his own hugs. He could have been accused of being drunk, but this was normal Roger behaviour.

  “Is Jon Brown here yet?” I asked with all innocence.

  “Has he started already?” Roger asked Dec.

  “Does he ever stop?”

  “I am right here,” I said, pushing past them and into the lounge room. “And I can hear you perfectly well.” Fran jumped up from the couch, more excited to see me than she typically was.

  I could see why, as she had been left alone with Jasper Brunswick.

  “Simon, hi, oh, hello, you’re here! Hi!”

  She was overcompensating with her love. At least I knew not everybody was as on board with this as they claimed. Caught in her embrace I looked upon Jasper, who was lolling back in his seat looking far too comfortable in his surrounds.

  He acknowledged me by nodding slightly and saying my name.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Hi, Jon.”

  It wasn’t a slip of the tongue, and he knew it.

  “Jasper,” he corrected me.

  “Jasper.”

  “I haven’t been Jon in a very long time.”

  “That time in my life still pops up in my nightmares.”

  “No wonder. It was so empty. That would haunt anyone.”

  “Isn’t this fun!” Fran exclaimed, squeezing my arm with both hands. She had years of experience at Chinese burns, being the eldest girl in her family.

  I nodded through my tears and was glad when I felt the warmth of Declan’s hand on my lower back, guiding me to a seat far away from my nemesis.

  “Who’s up for more wine?” Coby appeared at the door, brandishing the bottle like a weapon.

  “Yes, please,” everyone said at once.

  Jasper continued to smile at me like he was imagining wearing my skin as a suit. And it still wasn’t as discomforting as seeing him enacting some cosy domestic scene with Coby as he helped pour the drinks.

  “Pace yourself with the booze.” Dec leaned in close to me, his breath warm and inviting.

  “I’m not driving,” I reminded him and felt, rather than heard, his noiseless sigh of response.

  BUT, TO make Dec feel a little more comfortable, I paced myself. I was determined that it would be Jasper who would lose his cool that night, not me. I would not be the black hat-wearing villain of this piece.

  It didn’t mean I wouldn’t screw up every now and again.

  “How’s the arm?”

  A clichéd clattering of dropped forks against dinner plates greeted my conversation starter.

  Declan’s hand squeezed my knee in warning.

  “What?” I asked everybody. “It’s not like I’ve really spoken to him since that happened.”

  “It was two years ago,” Dec reminded me.

  Coby’s wounded expression was not lost on me, and I felt the first sledgehammer of guilt in my stomach.

  But Jasper smiled. I had fired the first round, and he was going to let it glance off.
“It’s fine. It healed up all nicely, and no problems since.”

  Bastard. “Oh. Good.”

  “Are you planning to break the other one?” was his riposte.

  If anybody had picked up their forks, I’m sure they would have dropped them again.

  My turn to smile. “I don’t know, let’s see how the rest of the night goes. But to be on the safe side, let’s not cross any bridges together.”

  “Good advice,” Jasper said.

  “Isn’t this fun?” Roger asked.

  Everybody now focused upon him, and he wilted under our collective gaze.

  “What?” he asked.

  “It’s a blast,” Fran said, attacking her pasta with gusto.

  Her husband didn’t last long as scapegoat, however. Fran and Declan started upon a new subject, while Jasper and I refused to let either of our white flags unfurl.

  Coby muttered about checking on the main, and I wrestled myself out from under Dec’s grip and followed Coby into the kitchen.

  His back was to me, and he refused to turn around on the sound of my footsteps. He was used to hearing my step at work and probably knew rightly who it was.

  “Cobes….”

  That made him turn. “Cobes? Cobes? When the fuck have you ever called me that?”

  “Umm… I have for a while?”

  “Yeah, but you’re only doing it now to try and defuse the situation with a friendly nickname. It’s not going to work, you arsehole.”

  “Okay, no more drinks for you tonight.”

  He raised his arm and I wondered if I should duck, but he only scratched at it.

  “I’m sorry, Coby.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Yeah, and I’m just wondering if Dec’s taken up ventriloquism.”

  “I can apologise if I think I’m in the wrong!”

  “I’m also wondering if it’s a blue moon tonight.”

  “You know about my history with Jo—Jasper. It’s a hard thing to break.”

  “I know, and he’s being a dick, too.” Coby viciously poked at a pot on the stove. “So tell me this, why am I wasting my night dealing with two dickheads?”