By My Side

by Alice Peterson

  ‘What happened to you … out there?’ I ask.

  He tells me he was in a WMIK, a Weapons Mounted Installation Kit, explaining that they’re basically a stripped-down Landrover with a heavy weapon mounted on the back and a machinegun mounted for the person in the passenger seat. ‘We used to drive in and out of contacts in them, often as fire support for the troops on foot who entered and cleared compounds. Our vehicle went over a mine.’

  ‘What happened next? Were you unconscious?’

  He nods. ‘I don’t remember much, Cass. They did the amputation in Camp Bastion and then I was flown back home. All I remember is waking up in a hospital bed, unsure where I was. It was terrifying.’

  ‘When I was at King’s, I was in my own bubble,’ I say, ashamed. ‘I didn’t think about brave guys like you.’

  ‘We’re not brave, Cass, we’re just doing our job.’

  *

  After supper Edward gives me a guided tour of his flat. ‘It won’t take long,’ he says. He leaves his bedroom until last.

  ‘So, this is my room,’ he says, Ticket and Tinkerbell following behind us. Edward tells them to settle down in the corner. In front of me is a double bed and beside the window is a desk on which sit a computer, books and files.

  ‘What are these for?’ I ask, pointing to some miniature medals on a small wooden table. Edward tells me he was in South Armagh, Northern Ireland, in 2002 and Iraq in 2003. I look at some framed photographs, including a picture of the same woman I had seen in the photograph in his wallet.

  ‘Who’s this?’ I ask, but I think I know.

  ‘Amelia.’

  ‘She’s beautiful.’

  He doesn’t say anything.

  ‘Are you still in touch?’

  ‘No. She left me last year,’ he says, a tremor in his voice.

  ‘How long had you been together?’

  ‘Four years.’ He bends down to stroke Tinkerbell. ‘She’s met someone else. The ironic thing is we got through the hard times. She stuck by me through rehab, but then … Maybe she left when she thought I was strong enough to cope alone, but I still loved her. I didn’t think …’ he trails off. ‘Anyway, I’m over her now.’

  ‘Right,’ I say, far from convinced. The last person I’d want in a photograph frame is Sean. ‘Do you miss her?’

  ‘No. Cass, do you want to sit …’

  ‘Hang on,’ I say, picking up another framed photograph, realising I want to delay whatever it is that might happen tonight. Why do I feel this way? Edward is handsome and charming; he’s good company and we have so much in common … what’s stopping me?

  ‘Where are you?’ I scan the picture of young lads lined up in rows, wearing green berets.

  ‘There,’ he points. ‘And that’s Dan, next to me. We trained together, at Lympstone. We were so young, about nineteen.’

  ‘And this?’ I point to a coloured, hand-drawn map.

  ‘Helmand Province.’ Inside the map are signed messages from his friends.

  He picks up the photograph of him and Dan standing next to one another in their green berets, two fit young guys with a bright future ahead of them. ‘Are you still in touch with him?’ I ask.

  There’s a painful silence and I realise the answer. ‘Oh, Edward, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘He was the brother I never had,’ he says sadly. ‘We always thought we’d be big and strong and yomp up mountains until we were eighty.’ He turns away. ‘Let’s not talk about this any more. Why don’t we move …’ He gestures to the bed.

  ‘Yes,’ I say, my heart thumping as I head towards him.

  ‘OUCH!’ Edward cries out when I run over his foot.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I say. ‘Oh shit, does it hurt?’ Stupid question.

  ‘A bit,’ he pretends, his face puckered in pain.

  ‘Shall I take a look at it?’

  ‘No, I’m fine, really,’ he says. He laughs and I find myself laughing too with relief, watching as he heaves himself on to the bed. It’s my turn next, transferring myself from my wheelchair on to the bed. Tinkerbell rests a paw against the side of the mattress.

  ‘I have competition,’ I say. Edward orders Tinkerbell and Ticket to settle down on the fleece rug by the window. When he turns to me, I look away. ‘How’s your foot?’ I ask.

  ‘I’ll survive.’

  ‘Oh God, sorry,’ I say nervously again, when I can’t stop laughing. ‘I know it’s not funny.’

  ‘It is kind of funny.’ He grins.

  There’s a long silence. Edward lifts my face to his. He kisses me, his arm around my waist, his hand now inside my top. I don’t mean to pull away so abruptly. ‘Edward, I’m not sure …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I like you, so much.’

  ‘There’s a but, isn’t there?’

  I nod, wishing there weren’t. ‘I’m sorry.’ There’s a long silence. ‘Maybe I should go?’

  ‘Don’t.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Cass, stay.’

  When I look at him, I see how much he has lost, especially his best friend, Dan. I see the loneliness in his eyes. I think he’s still in love with Amelia. I see a young boy who wanted to be a soldier, a son who has come back home, a son who would have made his dad proud, someone who is braver than I will ever be, and I edge closer to him, noticing tears in his eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘What a twit, I’m not normally like this. It’s being with you, Cass, I can talk to you and …’

  ‘Shh.’

  I touch his face, wishing I could take all that pain away.

  ‘I still miss her,’ finally he admits, quietly.

  ‘I know. Sean and me, we were always together, and then suddenly he wasn’t around any more. It’s like losing a limb,’ I say, before realising that wasn’t perhaps the best word to use, but Edward doesn’t take offence.

  ‘You know, most of us lads, after waking up in the hospital, were much more concerned that we still had our balls.’

  We both laugh.

  ‘Stay, Cass. I don’t want to be alone tonight.’

  ‘Nor do I,’ I say, holding him in my arms.

  34

  ‘Where have you been?’ Charlie asks the following morning when I return to the flat and find him in the kitchen. He’s dressed in a pale blue shirt and pair of scruffy jeans, his hair damp from the shower.

  ‘At Edward’s.’

  ‘I’ve been trying to call.’

  I can smell bacon.

  ‘Sorry. I think my phone’s run out of battery. I’m starving.’ I open the fridge.

  ‘I’m making bacon sandwiches,’ he says. ‘I was worried. I thought you’d been mugged or taken hostage.’

  ‘Oh, Charlie, you knew where I was.’

  ‘I asked you to let me know if you were staying over.’

  ‘It got late. I’d had a couple of drinks and—’

  ‘Right,’ he cuts me off, opening the cutlery drawer.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t call though. I should have done.’

  ‘It’s fine. So I’m guessing the evening went well?’

  Edward and I had held on to each other, both of us craving touch, reassurance, and love. We’d stayed up until the early hours of the morning talking about Amelia. I then felt able to be open about my feelings for Charlie, going right back to the beginning, when we’d met in Colorado. Finally we gave in to the dogs whining to come up on to the bed. Tinkerbell rested her head gently over Edward’s sore foot; Ticket somehow lay sandwiched in between us. We laughed at how funny we must look. What a sight. Finally we fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was a night that neither one of us will forget for a long time. We were two people who had found one another through extreme circumstances, just like I’d made friends with Dom and Guy. ‘We see things in similar ways, Cass. I can tell you anything,’ he’d said, stroking my hair as we lay in the darkness.

  Edward is attracted to me, but he hasn’t moved on from Amelia. She broke his heart. I’m attracted to Edward, but I
’m in love with this man holding a grill pan in front of me.

  ‘We had a great time,’ I say.

  ‘Is it serious between you two?’

  I’m about to tell him the truth, but then I hear the sound of the hairdryer blasting from his bedroom. ‘Maybe,’ I say.

  ‘Morning, Cass!’ Libby enters the kitchen, long brown hair tumbling down over her shoulders, and dressed in a tracksuit and sporty Lycra turquoise T-shirt. ‘I thought I heard voices.’

  Charlie grabs some plates, Libby brushes past him, towards the sink, and they kiss, briefly, before she helps herself to a carrot juice from the fridge. ‘I always feel so good after yoga, as if I could float away, do you know what I mean?’ She turns to me, stretches out her long graceful arms. ‘And how are you, Miss Out All Night Cass?’ Her eyes light up.

  I feel hungover and in need of a strong coffee, my teeth need brushing and my hair’s a mess and I don’t need a carrot-drinking-yoga-bunny in front of me … Oh but, Cass, it’s not her fault she’s with Charlie. ‘I’m good, thanks. Just need some sleep.’

  ‘You look knackered,’ she announces with delight. ‘So come on, how was your evening? Charlie was getting all paternal on you, like you were out late on a school night.’

  ‘He sounds incredible,’ Libby says, after I’ve filled her in with Edward’s background in the Royal Marines and how he was injured out in Afghanistan. ‘What a brave guy.’

  I show her a photograph on my mobile of Edward with Tinkerbell. ‘Oh look,’ she says. ‘He is seriously handsome and what a cute dog. Charlie, you have to see this!’

  ‘In a sec. Just need to put the rubbish out,’ he states, making quite a noise as he lifts the bin lid to retrieve the bulging black sack.

  ‘Ignore him,’ Libby says when he’s left the room. ‘He’s been in a stinky mood this morning. Someone got out of the wrong side of the bed. Anyway, back to Edward. Did you … did you … you know?’ she asks as Charlie returns.

  I sniff the air. Something’s burning.

  ‘Oh shit!’ he says, flying towards the oven and without thinking pulling out the grill pan. ‘Fuck!’ The pan clatters to the ground.

  ‘Ticket, no! Basket!’ I say, before taking a look at his hand. ‘Put it under some cold water, quick!’

  Still cursing, Charlie runs the tap and holds his hand under it. Following my orders Libby then heads to the bathroom to find some Ibuprofen and a dry gauze bandage, or any dressing to wrap around his hand, along with some aloe vera cream, which is in my medicine bag.

  ‘How’s it feeling?’ I ask him, a couple of minutes later. ‘The cold water should lessen the burn. Keep your hand under the tap.’

  ‘It hurts,’ he says.

  ‘It will be sore for a bit, Charlie.’

  He nods gravely. ‘How long?’

  ‘A couple of days.’

  ‘I wouldn’t make a very good Royal Marine, would I?’

  ‘No.’

  He smiles, as if to say he deserved that.

  ‘I’ll dress it for you, but keep it under water for a little longer, OK.’

  ‘So, Dr Brooks, tell me more about last night.’

  ‘Just worry about your hand.’

  He moves closer towards me. ‘You know, last night, I was—’ he turns, looks me in the eye ‘—jealous.’

  ‘Jealous?’

  He nods. ‘I know I have no right to be.’

  ‘You don’t, Charlie. You have no right at all.’

  ‘Is it serious between you?’ he asks again.

  ‘Why do you care?’

  ‘Of course I care.’

  ‘Jealous? You’re with Libby,’ I remind him, aware of his eyes still fixed on mine.

  ‘Here! I’ve got some … oh …’ Libby stops.

  I move away from him. ‘That’s great, thanks,’ I say, taking the cream and assortment of bandages from her, aware she’s looking at me, and then back to Charlie. ‘Crisis over,’ I say. ‘I think our patient will live.’

  35

  I’m lying in bed, the world peaceful until Ticket barks at the tribal music coming from the sitting room next door. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing Libby would turn the volume down. It’s Sunday morning. Give the chanting a rest. She’s a little too health-conscious for me as well. Everything she touches is organic, even wine. I’m surprised she doesn’t spray Charlie with something green before touching him. Oh, Cass, it’s not her fault she’s going out with him, I tell myself again.

  Charlie and I haven’t mentioned that moment by the sink a couple of weeks ago. We now have first-class degrees in pretending nothing is going on between us. Part of me thinks I should ask him if we can talk, grab a coffee round the corner, clear the air and finally find out where we stand with one another, but each time I race down that track I turn round and limp back home. I have too much to lose. I know we have a connection, an attraction, but Charlie’s made his choice. He’s going out with Libby and however much she can irritate me, I still like her. Charlie needs to stop playing games, messing with my head. Who the hell does he think he is? He has no right to be jealous. Rich’s voice also haunts me. ‘He’s complicated, Cass. He can’t commit. He bottles out.’ If only Edward and I had fallen in love.

  On my way to the bathroom I catch a glimpse of Libby sitting cross-legged on her yoga mat, hands in the prayer position. ‘Morning, Cass,’ she says, gracefully stretching herself out like a cat. ‘Morning,’ I say back, wanting to tell her to eat a doughnut.

  *

  When Edward and I meet for a dog walk in Richmond Park, Edward senses I’m not myself. ‘I’m sorry I’m being so quiet,’ I tell him. ‘It’s Charlie. I want to move on, I do, but it’s hard when we live together. I think Libby could be getting suspicious too, and I don’t want that. Maybe I should move out?’

  ‘That’s a bit drastic! Besides, it could be hard finding a new place. Why don’t you pretend we’re still together? It could take the pressure off? Use me.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ I say, throwing the ball for Ticket.

  ‘Why not? I don’t mind as long as you say I’m the best kisser in town.’ He raises an eyebrow.

  I smile. ‘You are pretty good.’

  ‘It would help me too,’ he confides. ‘Since I’ve met you, Mum’s laid off asking questions about my private life, thank God.’

  I glance at him, thinking that maybe it isn’t such a bad idea after all.

  36

  When I fibbed to Libby that Edward and I were officially going out, she clapped her hands in glee, as if I’d announced my engagement. ‘We must go on lots of double dates,’ she’d exclaimed. She has been trying to sort a night out with Charlie, Edward and me for the past fortnight. ‘It’ll be Christmas before we know it,’ she had moaned in email exchanges, when Charlie couldn’t do this date because of work, or Edward was away. I’d also thrown in the odd lie to say I was busy too, as no one wants to be available all the time. Besides, I have been working late these past few weeks, organising all the last-minute details of the Sweden skiing course for next January.

  During our last dog walk, Edward had asked me to describe Libby, Charlie and now Rich, who had returned from filming abroad again and wanted to come along too.

  ‘Oh, this will be fun. Where do I start?’

  ‘I don’t need their whole life story, Cass, keep it brief.’

  ‘OK, I can be brief. Libby first. She’s pretty, a yoga freak, ambitious.’ I paused, stuck already, deciding I needed to make more of an effort to get to know her.

  When it came to Rich, ‘Tall, scruffy, workaholic, skinny bean, intellectual, loves history documentaries and Homeland.’ Something was missing. Finally I said, ‘Lonely.’ Charlie had told me that he’d been single for a couple of years, not through lack of women interested but through choice. Charlie’s sister, Anna, had broken his heart. He also has a poor relationship with his parents. ‘Why they had children is anyone’s guess,’ Charlie had said. ‘When he was growing up, all they wanted to do was travel round the worl
d. Rich was an inconvenience.’

  ‘Charlie?’ Edward said.

  I took in a deep breath. ‘He loves photography, great skier, creative, works hard, eccentric in many ways, you know, quite British. But he’s kind, really kind, generous, and he makes me laugh. He can be so frustrating too,’ I said, not wanting to make him sound perfect. ‘It’s hard to know what he’s thinking, he can drive me insane sometimes, just when I think he’s about to—’

  ‘Stop!’ Edward looked at me. ‘I get the picture.’

  *

  Tonight’s the night we’re meeting at a Greek restaurant on Fulham Road. Charlie, Libby and I are the first to arrive. This place is very much a traditional taverna, Grecian statues and murals adorning the walls. As we wait for Rich and Edward, olives, pickled chillies, hummus and pitta bread are brought to our table. Charlie orders some house wine and a couple of bottles of cold beer.

  ‘Oh look, this must be Edward!’ Libby waves at someone.

  I turn and see him heading towards us. He’s dressed in dark trousers and a deep red jumper, hair freshly washed. I feel a surge of pride as he shakes Libby and Charlie’s hand. Then he bends down to kiss me, full on the lips, shocking the life out of me until I remember we’re supposed to be dating.

  Over a supper of kebabs and salads, we talk work, life, films, flatmates, books, dogs, and Libby wants to know all about how Edward and I had met at Canine Partners.

  Libby then asks us what we’re all doing over Christmas and New Year. ‘Maybe we should plan a party?’ she suggests. ‘It’s only a month away.’

  ‘I don’t even want to think about it yet,’ says a disgruntled Rich. ‘The shop round the corner from me has been stocking mince pies since bloody August.’

  ‘I’m not mad on the festive season either,’ says Charlie, a sparkle in his eye. ‘Too much time with Mum.’

  ‘Oh, you’re all such killjoys! I love it!’ Libby tells us she’s one of five sisters and her family lives in Chobham, Surrey. Her father, Bruce, is a stockbroker, her mother raised the children, and from the sounds of it, it’s one big happy family. ‘Charlie’s being very brave, he’s visiting us after Christmas, aren’t you, sweetheart?’ When she touches his hand I feel that unwelcome pang of jealousy. They’re spending the New Year together. I turn away from him, cursing myself that I still feel this way.