Happy Endings

by Jon Rance

  ‘It’s him, isn’t it? The boyfriend who hates to travel.’

  I nodded.

  ‘I’m sorry, Jez, but I love him and I don’t want to do anything to risk what we have.’

  ‘Even though he wouldn’t come travelling, obviously loves work more than you and even though we kissed?’

  ‘Even so.’

  ‘He must be special.’

  ‘He is, Jez, and so are you.’

  ‘Really?’ he said, looking across at me, the moonlight catching the side of his face.

  ‘Yes really. You’re wonderful, funny and sexy and if it wasn’t for Ed . . .’

  ‘You’d spend the rest of the year travelling with me, we’d fall in love and live happily ever after?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  A part of me wanted that. I could see it all in an instant. I could see the next six months and probably longer travelling the world, experiencing life and living the dream. I’d always thought about backpacking and in my head there was always a man. Tall, dark and handsome, just like Jez, and we’d fall in love on a tropical island like Koh Phangan. When I was fifteen it was all an incredible dream, but now I was actually living it and in that moment with Jez, lying in that bed, I think I could have gone with it. It was a close call. Instead we lay listening to two cats screaming outside and to the sound of the overhead fan slowly cooling our bodies.

  I used to go to the park with Mum when I was little. We’d go there nearly every day in the summer before autumn came with the rain and winter with the cold. I used to love going on the swings and swinging as high as I could. Mum would get scared and yell out my name from the bench, ‘Kate Marie Jones, stop it now; don’t go any higher!’ I would go right up until the point when it felt like I was about to go all the way around. I loved that feeling of flying so close to the edge and wondering if one day I’d go too far. I had the same feeling again with Jez. I felt like if we kept going, we’d go all the way around and we’d never be able to come back again.

  ‘Richard would have been proud,’ Jez said through the darkness.

  I turned and looked at him and I could see he was smiling.

  ‘Why’s that?’ I said, reaching across for the packet of cigarettes on the nightstand.

  ‘He said one day he’d like to have an affair with an older woman. Something else I’ve crossed off the list for him.’

  ‘Cheeky bastard,’ I said, hitting him gently on the shoulder. ‘You know, just for the record, I really admire what you’re doing.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘This. Travelling the world for Richard. I can’t think of a better way to remember someone.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Jez quietly. There was a small pause as he lit a cigarette. ‘It . . .’ he started and then I could sense he was on the verge of tears again. ‘It’s guilt, mainly.’

  ‘Guilt? Why?’

  ‘Because he was coming to see me when he died. It was a weekend I organised and made him drive down for. You know he called me on the Friday because he wasn’t going to come. It was our last conversation. He had too much to do, but I convinced him to come anyway. I made him come, Kate, and he died.’

  ‘But it isn’t your fault. Surely you can see that.’

  ‘I still feel guilty though and maybe that’s why I had to get away so quickly, because I couldn’t face it. Running away seemed like the only choice.’

  ‘Maybe it was. You did what you had to do, and what good would have come from being there? Going to the funeral. Dealing with all the tears and grief, talking about it over and over again. At least this way you’re grieving on your own terms and paying your last respects to Richard the way he would have wanted.’

  ‘I just . . .’

  ‘Just what?’

  ‘I just wish I could see it like that.’

  ‘And you will, in time.’

  Jez and I lay smoking and talking until we both fell asleep near dawn to the steady moan of dance music in the distance. We’d planned on staying up to see the sunrise, but neither of us made it. We awoke around ten, still wrapped up in each other. Jez smiled at me.

  ‘I suppose this is it.’

  ‘I suppose,’ I said and a part of me wanted to cry.

  We packed our bags and said goodbye to our little bungalow. In some ways it felt like an absolute age since we’d arrived, cautiously navigating the single-bed situation, but in others it felt like only yesterday. We took the boat back to the mainland and I thought about the moment I’d had on the way out to Koh Phangan – my epiphany. It had been a wonderful moment, but going back felt even more monumental because I had changed. I had cheated on Ed, but it had made me closer to him, if that made sense. I thought about my kiss with Jez and if I regretted it. I didn’t. I didn’t because he made me realise, despite everything, just how much I loved Ed. If going travelling was something I had to do, then so was being with Ed. If I was still running, then Ed was the constant that would always keep me coming back.

  Jez and I stood facing each other at the bus terminal. I was heading one way and he the other. I didn’t know what to do or what to say. I wanted to keep in touch, but I knew it wasn’t possible. I’d shared moments with Jez I’d never forget. He would always be the one who saved me. My Bangkok hero. We stood in an awkward silence, neither friends nor lovers, but caught somewhere in between.

  ‘I have one question,’ I eventually said.

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘Why did you spend the last three weeks with me?’

  Jez smiled and looked at me with those gorgeous blue eyes. Jez had a certain smile, my mum would call it cheeky; the smile of a boy who knew he was handsome and could get away with blue bloody murder because of it.

  ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

  ‘Because you thought I’d have sex with you?’ I said and then laughed a horribly girlie laugh.

  ‘Kate,’ he said, holding my hands in his. ‘It was never about the sex.’

  ‘You just liked being with me?’

  ‘Is that so hard to believe?’

  ‘Maybe,’ I said and we kissed again, only this time it was different. The passion was still there, but, knowing I wouldn’t ever kiss him again, I felt a sadness that would linger on my lips long after we said goodbye.

  To: Emma Fogle

  From: Kate Jones

  Subject: Re: I made it!

  Em,

  I can’t believe you kissed Rhys Connelly! That’s incredible. Was it amazing? I bet it was. I know you probably felt guilty, but shit, Rhys Connelly! And if it really was nothing then Jack shouldn’t be that bothered. I mean, yes, you kissed him, but you’re going to be kissing him in the film, so what’s the difference? I think with men it’s mainly ego. I’m sure Jack will come around once he’s calmed down. And, talking of kissing, I ended up snogging Jez! What’s wrong with us? Let me explain how it happened and what I’ve been up to since the last email.

  Jez and I travelled down from Bangkok to Koh Phangan. It was a long journey but so worth it. It was so beautiful, Em. When we arrived we checked into this hostel that Jez had stayed at before. It was gorgeous, right on the beach, but the only problem was that we had to share a bed! OK, fine, I should have guessed something was going to happen, I suppose, but it felt sort of innocent at the time.

  The island was just perfect and we spent our time snorkelling, taking little trips on the death scooters (so dangerous but such fun!) and sunbathing. I have an A-mazing tan already. Just have a look at the photos I’ve attached – you’re going to be so jealous! It took us ten days to finally kiss, but it was really magical. I don’t know how it felt to kiss Rhys, but kissing Jez felt so good and so right it scared me. I felt guilty straight away because I hadn’t meant to cheat on Ed. We just kissed though, nothing else. I mean we cuddled in bed, which is bad, I know, but, and it isn’t an excuse, but when you’re so far away it feels different. I’m not going to do any more though. I didn’t come away to cheat on Ed. I love Ed. This was just a blip.

  I just ar
rived in Chiang Mai, which is in the north of Thailand, after another very long trip. I’m loving it though, Em. It’s hard to put into words, but I feel a connection to my old self again. That probably sounds a bit weird, but I think working the last eight years and living in London, I sort of lost a bit of who I used to be. The old, pre-university, back-in-Oxford, teenage me. But coming away and doing the trip I planned when I was fifteen, I feel closer to that me again. It feels silly writing it, but it’s you, probably the only person who understands what I’m waffling on about so I don’t care.

  I have lots of cool stuff planned for Chiang Mai. I’ll write again soon with more details. I’ve attached a few photos – a couple of Jez, so make sure Ed doesn’t get a whiff. Let me know how things go with Jack and with the wedding. Make sure you stand up to your mum. This is your wedding, not hers!

  Love K X

  February

  Ed

  Jack looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Something had obviously happened with Emma because as soon as he arrived, he ordered a pint and a whisky and they were both gone in a matter of minutes. I got us another couple of pints and we sat at a table by the window. Outside, the Thames was a slow-moving grey mass and the sky was the colour of charcoal with not a star in sight. It was good to see Jack, although by the expression on his face, maybe it wouldn’t be the light-hearted lad’s night out I’d hoped for.

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  Jack was twirling a beer mat between his fingers and he looked like he wanted to punch something.

  ‘It’s Emma. She kissed Rhys Connelly.’

  It was then I guessed that what he actually wanted to punch was someone.

  ‘The actor?’

  ‘They went out for lunch, then to a club in Soho. One thing led to another. Long story short, they kissed.’

  ‘Blimey. I never thought she’d do something like that.’

  ‘Me either.’

  ‘And she told you?’

  ‘She said it was a mistake and it wouldn’t happen again, but they’re doing a film together and there’s sex scenes and nudity and so of course it’s going to happen again.’

  ‘Mate, I’m sorry.’

  I immediately started thinking about Georgie. Was it just a kiss? Did it mean nothing? I wasn’t so sure. I think it always means something when you cheat on your partner. People throw around hollow phrases like, it meant nothing, it won’t happen again, I felt trapped, but what does all of that really equate to? Aren’t they just pitiful excuses because we were too weak to turn down the offer of someone who made us feel attractive? I knew what I was doing with Georgie was wrong, but I did it anyway. I stopped before we went too far, but I still cheated on Kate and I was sure it definitely meant something.

  ‘I told her she couldn’t do the film,’ Jack said suddenly.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Too much?’

  ‘It’s your life, mate, and your girlfriend.’

  ‘But you think I went too far?’

  ‘It’s just . . . that’s always been her dream and she’s finally made it. I’m not sure you can take that away from her.’

  ‘Bit like you and Kate.’

  ‘Exactly like me and Kate. I couldn’t stop her leaving and I have to trust she will come back to me.’

  ‘But what if she doesn’t? What if she meets someone else?’

  ‘Then I suppose that’s it.’

  ‘You can be that clinical about it?’

  ‘Not clinical, just a realist. We can’t make people stay with us, love us. It doesn’t work like that.’

  I wasn’t sure I believed a word I was saying. It sounded right, like it might be true and that I should believe it, but I wasn’t convinced. I loved Kate so much. She gave me meaning. Without her I’d be a shell of myself and it would kill me if she didn’t come back. I’d be crushed. I knew I couldn’t make Kate love me and be with me any more than Jack could stop Emma from doing the film, but if she didn’t, I didn’t know what else I’d do.

  ‘What do you think I should do?’ said Jack, downing the dregs of his pint.

  ‘I think you already know the answer to that one, mate. Another?’

  ‘Please.’

  Ever since our kiss, Georgie and I had kept our distance. There had been a few furtive glances and awkward moments at the photocopier, but we’d seen the error of our ways and I assumed it would disappear into my forgettable past like my brief foray into the office five-a-side football team. However, while I was standing at the bar waiting for our pints, Georgie had other ideas. My phone buzzed in my pocket to let me know I had a text.

  Home alone, bored and thinking of you. G x

  I felt a prickly heat rising up inside of me. It was silly, but it felt like every person in the room knew what was going on. I quickly looked around and, of course, no one was looking at me. They were all drinking their pints or talking and not paying me the slightest bit of attention. I quickly stuffed the phone into my pocket and headed back to the table with our drinks, desperately trying to work out what Georgie wanted from me.

  ‘How’re you doing without Kate?’ said Jack once I’d sat down again.

  ‘I’m not going to lie, it’s been tough.’ I said. ‘Tougher than I thought.’

  ‘Do you regret not going then?’

  It was a good question. Did I regret not going? Did I regret what had happened with Georgie? Did I wish I was sunning myself on a beach in Thailand with Kate rather than sitting in a pub trying to decide whether I should send a reply that would cause more harm than good?

  ‘No,’ I said, taking a sip of my pint. ‘It was Kate’s thing. She needed to do it for her. If I’d gone, I’d probably have ruined it for her.’

  ‘You’re right. You’d have dragged her down with your constant whining.’

  ‘Cheers, mate.’

  ‘At least if it all does go awry and it isn’t what she’d hoped for, she can’t blame you.’

  ‘It’s a win–win. Either she has the time of her life and she thanks me for letting her go, or she has an awful time and can’t wait to get back to me.’ If only I was that confident everything was going to turn out so well.

  ‘I wish my situation was that simple,’ said Jack and his face dropped again. ‘And on that note, I’m off to the loo.’

  Once Jack had gone, I took out my phone and stared at the text. Why would she have written it? Maybe she was drunk? or maybe she meant to send it to someone else. Just as I was pondering whether to ignore it, delete it or reply to it, another message suddenly appeared in my inbox with a ping.

  Are you ignoring me Ed? G x

  Obviously the message was for me. What could I say? Was I ignoring her? Yes and for good reason. She was beautiful, home alone and thinking of me and I was out, drinking, my girlfriend was ten thousand miles away and I hadn’t had sex in forever. I decided it wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of friendly banter.

  Of course not. Just out with a mate having a few beers. Why aren’t you out? E x

  Before I had the chance to put the phone back in my pocket, it buzzed again.

  No one to play with. At home in my pyjamas, bored and wishing you were here. G xx

  I quickly typed a reply before Jack came back.

  And what would we do? Film? Takeaway? Other? E xx

  It was wrong and stupid, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I felt out of control and maybe it was what I needed. Maybe what I needed was Georgie. Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly, but before I managed to text myself further into a hole, Jack came back to the table.

  ‘How’s the writing going?’ I said nervously, hoping he wouldn’t spot the look of embarrassment and guilt that seemed, to me at least, plastered like a billboard across my face.

  ‘All done. Sending off the agent letters on Monday.’

  ‘And this is definitely the last one?’

  ‘For a while. I’m so bored of being broke, of feeling like a complete and utter failure. If this doesn’t work, it’s back to
the drawing board.’

  ‘Like I’ve said before, you can always come and work with me.’

  ‘Another pint here or do you want to go somewhere else?’ he said, ignoring me.

  ‘We can stay here if you want; get pissed like a couple of old codgers.’

  ‘You don’t fancy going somewhere a bit, I don’t know, livelier?’ said Jack with a disappointed shrug.

  I looked around at the pub and it was lively enough. Admittedly, the people were mainly City workers who came here because they could sit down and talk, eat some half-decent food without being elbowed out of the way by pissed tourists, students and people under the age of twenty-five. The pub was full of people like me. People who sat in comfortable chairs all day and didn’t want that to change by night.

  ‘Fine, let’s go somewhere a bit livelier,’ I said, downing the last inch of my pint.

  ‘While the Kate’s away, eh.’

  I smiled and grabbed my coat. Maybe it was time I took a chance and had a bit of fun. Maybe it was time I stopped living the easy life in easy pubs full of middle-aged people living middle-aged lives. After all, I wasn’t yet thirty. I was sick and tired of always doing the right thing, the sensible thing, and acting as though I was past it. Kate wasn’t the only one who could be impulsive and have fun.

  Four hours later I ended up drunk and standing outside Georgie’s flat in Clapham, throwing small stones at her window. Maybe if I’d have stayed with the commuter-belt bunch, I’d have gone home like a good boy, bought a kebab and fallen asleep on the sofa thinking about my girlfriend. As it was, I spent the night with Jack, getting steadily drunker, texting backwards and forwards with Georgie until I couldn’t take it anymore. Jack and I left the club and after I said goodbye and wished him well with Emma, I hopped in a taxi and headed to Clapham.