Chaos Theories Collection

by Moody, David

  ‘This is all very interesting, Beck,’ he said, ‘but it’s not what you’re supposed to be talking about, is it? Come on, let’s get it over with.’

  ‘I hate doing this.’

  ‘I know, but they pay you a shit-load of money for it, so you better get it done.’

  She paused. Deep breath. ‘What’s going on, mate?’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘You tell me.’

  ‘People are starting to ask questions.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘You, mainly. Your performance.’

  ‘But we’ve just been over the office figures. We’re doing okay. We’ve moved up a couple of places in the league tables. We’re top quarter and the only targets we haven’t hit are the ones that no one’s hit yet. We’re up on last year’s figures.’

  ‘I know all this, but I’m not talking about the overall office performance, I’m talking about your performance.’

  Steven swallowed hard. ‘What about it?’

  ‘Brian flagged it up with me. A couple of cases you sanctioned were referred up to him by the processing team.’

  ‘Is this about the McGiven deal?’

  ‘That’s one of them. You approved a facility way outside your authority with the Chalmers case.’

  ‘Did I not refer that one to you?’

  ‘You haven’t referred anything to me for weeks. I was starting to think you were deliberately avoiding me.’

  ‘I can explain. With that one I just thought...’

  She was looking straight at him. ‘I don’t want you to explain, Steve, I want you to listen. Look, I know things have been difficult. You’ve had a lot on your plate and I understand if—’

  ‘That’s got nothing to do with any of this. My work and home lives are completely separate and you know that. I’ve never had any problem keeping one from the other.’

  Still looking straight at him. ‘You finished? I said I wanted you to listen, Steve, not talk. The thing is this, no matter what you say, you’re not two people. You might be able to switch off and change from one to the other, but I don’t necessarily think that’s always the best option. Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness.’

  ‘If I needed help I’d ask for it. Fact is, I don’t. Fuck’s sake, Beck, you’ll be sending me for counselling sessions next. I don’t need this, okay? I’m fine.’

  ‘Fine but touchy.’

  ‘I get pissed off when people think I can’t cope, that’s all.’

  ‘I didn’t say you couldn’t cope. You’ve got selective hearing today, you’re only listening to the bits you want to hear.’

  ‘If I’m honest, I don’t want to hear any of this.’

  ‘And I think that’s the problem. It’s okay to admit things aren’t going well. It’s okay to ask for time off. You’re not a robot, you’re a human being.’

  ‘You’re getting dangerously close to patronising me now.’

  ‘I don’t know how else to talk to you anymore. You came back to work straight after the baby and I’ve been trying to tell you this since then. Problem is you’re so bloody stubborn you refuse to listen. Thing is, though, it’s affecting your performance now and we’ve got to do something about it. Now you can either listen to what I’m saying or just keep telling me everything’s okay and carry on as you are. But if you do that, I’ll have to tell Brian that there’s no excuse for your fuck ups, and that they are just that, just fuck ups.’

  His head drooped forward. Shit. Busted. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to react. His silence spoke volumes.

  ‘I’m on your side, remember?’ Rebecca said.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So what are we going to do about it?’

  He kicked the dust under the bench, swinging his feet like a kid being admonished at school, wishing he was anywhere but here, talking about anything but this. ‘I’ll get on top of the procedures again, Beck. I need to review the staff authorities, so I’ll take the opportunity to double-check mine.’

  She was staring at him again. ‘Shut up, Steve. I’m not talking about bloody authority levels and procedures, I’m talking about you. You’re not yourself. Outwardly, yes, but I’ve known you a long time... you’re different. The suits are still sharp and you never have a hair out of place, but you don’t carry yourself like you used to. Your spark’s died.’

  ‘Well what do you expect? The spark did die, remember?’

  She sighed and looked at him. ‘You can’t keep all this stuff bottled up indefinitely. You need to talk to someone.’

  ‘Like who?’

  ‘Your wife? Jesus, mate.’

  ‘It’s not that simple.’

  ‘How’s she doing?’ Rebecca asked, trying a change in tack.

  ‘She’s fine. She’s talking about going back to work.’

  ‘And is that it?’

  ‘What else do you want me to say?’

  ‘I don’t know... bloody hell, though, Steve, you two were always so loved-up it was nauseating. It used to be that I couldn’t get you to shut up talking about her, now you rarely even mention her. What’s changed?’

  ‘You know what’s changed. Stupid bloody question.’

  ‘You should take some time off. Have you had any holiday recently?’

  ‘Been too busy.’

  ‘Bullshit. Take some time, spend a few days together.’

  ‘Jesus, Beck, you talk about me going outside my authority... since when did they include marriage guidance advice in your bloody job description?’ He knew he’d gone too far as soon as he’d spoken. She looked hurt. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.’

  ‘No you shouldn’t, you arsehole. We’re having this conversation because I care about you, that’s all. I’ve known you a long time, and I don’t need to be a bloody marriage counsellor to know when a friend’s struggling.’

  ‘Sorry,’ he said again.

  ‘When was the last time the two of you went out together?’

  ‘Last week. We went out for a meal for my dad’s birthday.’

  ‘You’re still not listening to me. When was the last time the two of you went out together? Just the two of you?’

  ‘Can’t remember. Back in the summer. Before...’

  ‘Exactly. Listen, Steve, you can tell me to piss off and mind my own business if you like, but I hate seeing you like this. Go home tonight and surprise your wife. Buy her a bunch of flowers, then take her out to dinner. Spend some time with her. Talk to her.’

  ‘I was planning on working late tonight.’

  ‘Why? You don’t need to. There’s nothing on your desk that can’t wait.’

  ‘Someone was telling me it’s getting hard to find fresh cut flowers at the moment.’

  ‘Then buy her a bloody box of chocolates. Christ, you’re infuriating. Stop making excuses. Take Sam out to dinner and try and make it feel like it used to. You need to do this, Steve because the longer you leave it, the worse it’ll get.’

  ‘I know,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s not that easy.’

  ‘I never said it would be. Like I said, you can tell me to butt out and mind my own business, but if I don’t do this, who will? You might be able to fool the rest of them but you can’t fool me. Get yourself sorted out. Do something about it before it’s too late.’

  5

  She was right, as usual. Bloody woman. Rebecca was the voice of reason and although he couldn’t bring himself to admit it, he was grateful. Sometimes Steven felt lost, wholly out of his depth, but he knew from Sam’s response when he’d suggested going out that it was unquestionably the right thing to do. They agreed on The Shanti – a curious but fashionable mix of Indian restaurant and traditional British pub on one of the main roads out of Cambridge. They used to go there regularly, though they hadn’t been for a while. The best of both worlds, Steven decided. Good food, plenty of booze.

  It was working.

  ‘We were only there because you were reading the maps and you sent us the wrong way down the A146,’
he said, laughing.

  ‘And I only misread the map because you were panicking about us being late.’

  ‘I know, but thank God we were, eh?’

  ‘Funniest thing I’ve ever seen,’ she said, chuckling at the memory. ‘All those cars stuck in the mud, then we just come tootling along from the opposite direction and park up as if nothing’s happened.’

  ‘Priceless.’

  The conversation stalled naturally as they finished their meals. Sam leant back in her chair and looked across the table at her husband. He was running his finger around the rim of his glass, drawing endless circles. ‘What you thinking about?’ she asked.

  ‘Nothing, really.’

  She knew that wasn’t true. Don’t push him, she thought. Gently does it. ‘We should do this more often, don’t you think?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘It’s good to talk.’

  ‘Suppose.’

  ‘Work okay today?’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘You think things are going to calm down there soon?’

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘Jill phoned again today.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘I’m going to go into the office next week. It’ll do me good to go back there again. I haven’t been in since I went on maternity leave.’

  Steven found an uneaten scrap of food on his plate to play with. ‘And are you sure you’re okay with that?’ He kept thinking about when he’d picked her up that day, the back of his Audi full of balloons and cards and gifts, most of which were still in the spare room because she didn’t want to throw them away and he didn’t know what else to do with them. And in his head he was back in that room again now, remembering the laughter, the excitement and the anticipation which never came to anything.

  ‘Of course I’m okay with it. It won’t be easy, but it’s something I’ve got to do.’

  ‘What, so you’re just going to get your work clothes out of the wardrobe and go back like nothing’s happened?’

  ‘What else am I supposed to do?’

  He just shrugged.

  ‘It’s time to move on, Steve. Settle the bill and let’s go sit outside for a while, yes?’

  ‘Sure.’ He took his wallet from his jacket pocket and gestured for the waiter. Sam picked her light summer cardigan up off the back of her chair.

  ‘Just going to the loo,’ she said, running her hand along his back as she passed him. ‘Shall I see you out there?’

  ‘Okay.’

  The restaurant was quiet and he was dealt with quickly. The bar, however, was busier and he had to wait. He took their drinks out into the beer garden outside the front of the pub and found Sam sitting at a wooden picnic table. There were more people outside the building than in tonight, it seemed. They sat in couples and groups on the outdoor furniture which should, by rights, have been put into storage for winter by now. A large bunch of men sat together on the opposite side of the patch of dry grass, perched on the wall and sitting on the floor when they’d run out of seats, two tables full of empty glasses in the middle of them all. They were making more noise than everyone else combined. Maybe a football or rugby team, Steven decided.

  The moon was incredibly bright this evening, almost as intense as the ceaseless sun, turning the purple sky ultraviolet in its immediate corona. It looked huge, and its size belied its distance.

  ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Sam said, as he sat beside her. She threaded her arm through his. ‘Looks like you could reach up and touch it, like you could just switch it off.’

  ‘I like the moon. I’d much rather find the off-switch for the sun, if I’m honest.’

  She smiled and pulled him closer, leaning her head on his shoulder. ‘You’re very quiet tonight, Steve. Please tell me what you’re thinking.’

  ‘I was just thinking how little I am.’

  ‘Weird thing to say.’

  ‘I was just thinking that if we hadn’t brought the car, it’d take us a couple of hours at least to walk home. Imagine how long it’d take us to get to the moon.’

  ‘You getting all deep and philosophical?’

  ‘Me? Hardly. Nah, I’m long past all that.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Nothing. Just trying to get everything in perspective.’

  ‘And are you succeeding?’

  ‘Not really.’ She squeezed his hand and he managed a flicker of a smile. A raucous burst of laughter from the lads in the corner disturbed the quiet of the moment. Steven glanced at his watch. ‘Jeez, have you seen the time? It’s after ten.’

  ‘You got somewhere better to be?’

  ‘No... just didn’t realise it was so late.’

  ‘That’s what happens when you stop and relax, love. You should try it more often.’

  ‘Easier said than done. I just thought it was earlier, that’s all. I didn’t sleep well last night. My body clock’s all screwed in this heat. I think it might have stopped, actually.’

  Sam laughed and reached for her drink. ‘Steve, I was thinking...’ she started to say, and the fact she paused concerned him. She was being tactful, he could tell. He hated it when she was like this. He knew he probably wasn’t going to like what was coming next.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know I spoke to Dad yesterday?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Well before I go back to work I want to go and see him. Just spend a couple of days with him. It’s been ages.’

  ‘It hasn’t been that long.’

  She ignored him. ‘I was thinking maybe next weekend? We’ve got nothing on.’

  ‘Just Saturday and Sunday?’

  ‘I was hoping you might take a couple of days off. The Thursday and Friday, perhaps? Or the following Monday and Tuesday, whatever works best for you with work.’

  His heart sank. He thought back to his meeting in the park with Rebecca earlier, how she’d almost ordered him to take a break, but he knew that spending time with Norman would inevitably be more stressful than being at the office. ‘It’s really difficult right now, Sam.’

  ‘I know. I understand. It’s been months since I saw him, though. I haven’t even seen him since we lost Jack and I feel terrible. I worry about him now that Mom’s gone, all on his own out there. He’ll be seventy next year, Steve, and apart from his sister I’m just about all he’s got left.’

  ‘That’s because he pushes everyone else away.’

  ‘That’s not true. This weather’s not helping, either. He used to get cranky after a couple of days whenever we went abroad on holiday.’

  ‘To be fair, Sam, I’ve never known him not to be cranky.’

  ‘Can you just stop? For Christ’s sake, give it a rest.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘We can either go and see him or I’ll ask him to come and stay with us.’

  ‘What, like last time? Three weeks... I didn’t think he was ever going to go.’

  ‘He’d have stayed longer if you’d been more welcoming.’

  ‘I tried but he’s impossible. It’s like I can’t do anything in my own home when he’s around. He’s always watching me. He criticises everything I do...’

  ‘It’s just his age.’

  ‘That’s no excuse.’

  ‘I know, but that’s how it is. He doesn’t realise how annoying he can be.’

  ‘Doesn’t realise or doesn’t care? He hogs the TV, messes with my computer...’

  ‘So do we visit him or does he come to us?’

  ‘I’ll see what I can sort out.’

  ‘I thought as much.’

  ‘I’m not promising anything. And if he starts having a go at me over nothing again, I’ll just load the stuff back in the car and come home.’

  ‘You’re both as bad as each other.’

  ‘No, he’s far worse than me.’

  ‘Not from where I’m sitting.’ She shook her head. ‘If he lived closer like your parents it wouldn’t be so bad. I’d go more regularly. Just nip over and see him... keep him happy.�
��

  ‘I doubt anything would keep your dad happy.’

  ‘Stop, please. Anyway, it might do you good. Criccieth will be lovely in the sun. You’ll be able to spend some time on the beach. We didn’t get a summer holiday, remember?’

  ‘It’ll be dark by six.’

  ‘Then come back in at half-five. It’ll help you de-stress.’

  ‘Who says I’m stressed? I’m not stressed.’

  ‘You are. You’re like a coiled spring. Honestly, Steve, stop putting up all these obstructions. You’re so bloody touchy all the time.’

  ‘I’m not touchy either, I’m just tired and I’m under a lot of pressure right now. If you knew what I’ve had to deal with this week you’d be the same.’

  ‘And that’s half the problem.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘You think I don’t have anything to deal with. You make it sound like losing Jack was okay for me, because I didn’t have to go straight back to work.’

  ‘I never said that.’

  ‘You never say anything anymore. Fact is, it’s been bloody hard being at home on my own. The house is so quiet, so empty... it should have been full of noise by now. I shouldn’t have had a second to myself.’

  ‘I get that, but—’

  ‘But what? See, I don’t think you do. I don’t think you’ve ever stopped to think about how it’s been for me...’

  ‘That’s not fair. I’ve always—’

  He stopped talking abruptly.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  Steven looked up and around, not sure himself. Whatever it was, he wasn’t alone in sensing it. The beer garden had become unnaturally hushed, just a low hubbub of pockets of conversation remaining. He could feel – no, he could almost taste – a sudden change in the air. An electrical tang. A bizarre, directionless breeze. Now Sam felt it too. She lifted her head towards the horizon.

  The sky began to change colour. At first it was subtle, barely detectable, the purple-black at the furthermost edge of the visible world becoming tinged with dull blue, then lightening still further. And then the intensity and speed of the sudden change increased dramatically. The blue became paler, and Steven thought it looked almost as if he was watching time-lapse footage of daybreak sped up to an extreme velocity. The light seemed to reach out from the horizon, a steady arc at first before jagged shards of brightness began racing across the sky at the outermost edge of the wave, sparks of static, clawing along the coal-black. Steven shielded his eyes as an unexpected gust of warm wind washed over him. He imagined this was how it would feel to lie on the runway under a plane coming into land, the air being sucked away by the down-draft. When the wind dropped slightly and he opened his eyes again, it was like night had been put on fast-forward, like dawn had come too soon. It lasted for a couple more seconds. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The colours reversed, dissolving back to normality through various hues and shades, melting and mutating back to black as if the sky overhead was an out-of-sync computer monitor re-calibrating itself.