Crying in the Rain (Hiding Behind The Couch Character and Festive Episodes)

7 Bottle

Kris

K ris didn’t comment , or not in words. By the time they’d finished recording yesterday, he’d been completely captivated by the contradiction that was Ade Simmons, assertive producer, cool, calm and in control, versus the nervous, almost meek man he became away from his domain.

Watching Ade now, it was like those two sides were at war with each other. The set of Ade’s jaw, tensed shoulders and clenched fists said he was ready to flee, yet that defiant glare was back, challenging Kris to ask why, but he already knew. He’d picked up on it almost at the start, even before he’d seen the bruises, but he hadn’t been sure until Ade’s reaction in the corridor.

So no, he wasn’t going to ask why because it was dishonest and voyeuristic and would block Ade’s only escape route—

“Of course,” Ade said, matter-of-fact, “I have to attend a lot of meetings with management.”

—and he’d taken it.

“There are…expectations.” He gestured to his attire, today a plain navy shirt open at the neck, black brushed-denim jeans and black suede loafers. Casual and stylish, but very plain and middle-aged, completely at odds with the boyishly handsome face with a sprinkling of freckles across the nose and hairstyle straight out of GQ .

Kris zoomed out, taking in the whole person again, and discovered he wasn’t the only one having a good look while they could.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you? ”

“Thirty-six. You?”

“Thirty-nine in January.” That sounded so much older than thirty-six.

“Ooh! My birthday’s in January too,” Ade said. “The twentieth.”

“Mine’s the thirteenth.”

“Oh…” Ade seemed disappointed, but then shrugged and added, “Well, that’s exactly a week apart.”

“We were obviously destined to meet,” Kris teased.

“Without a doubt!” Ade smiled, zapping Kris with the same spark as last night.

“I don’t feel nearly forty.”

“No, me neither, but what does that mean? Feeling nearly forty?”

“Older and wiser?” Kris speculated.

“Ha, I wish I was wiser.” Ade shook his head, briefly retreating into himself before shrugging it off. “You’re right, though. I dress like my dad.”

“Hey, I didn’t…mean… It was just you said…” Kris pursed his lips, hearing his mum’s voice in his head. Stop, take your foot out of your mouth, and try again. “Your dad had excellent taste.”

Ade bowed demurely. “A sideways compliment, but I’ll take it.”

Kris laughed. “And I suppose at my age, I should be dressing a little more conservatively.”

“Why?” Ade nodded at Kris’s shirt. “That’s so you.”

Kris pulled his shirt out a bit so he could see it. Shaunna had picked it out for him, claiming the swirls in multiple shades of blue, turquoise and green perfectly complemented his complexion and drew out the blue of his eyes. He’d taken her word for it, to save himself another half an hour of indecision that might’ve meant missing Ade. Still, he was curious.

“How is it so me?” he asked.

“Based on yesterday, and your CV. And…” Ade blushed so deeply his freckles all but disappeared. “Your online agency profile, reviews, interviews… ”

Kris narrowed his eyes. “Are you stalking me, Mr. Simmons?”

Ade nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

They both laughed but quickly fell quiet again. Their cups were empty, their coffee date over. This could be the last time they saw each other, because even though Ade had just admitted he had all Kris’s contact details, they hadn’t officially exchanged them, and Kris didn’t want to impose.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” he said as Ade said, “I’ll walk you out.”

Kris had walked himself in, but he wasn’t going to argue against a few minutes more in Ade’s company.

As they travelled down in the lift, he watched Ade’s fuzzy reflection in the steel walls, observing that they were both doing the same thing again. They shared a smile but didn’t speak until they reached the ground floor, where Ade stood by while Kris handed back his visitor’s pass, then followed him outside.

“Might as well have a smoke while I’m here,” he said, pulling a cigarette packet from his jeans pocket. He thumbed towards the side street that ran next to the radio station building and moved off. Kris moved with him. “You don’t have to stay—oh! I haven’t given you my number!” Switching the packet to his other hand, Ade took out his phone and unlocked it. The packet slipped upwards out of his grasp and tumbled down onto the pavement. “Damn it.”

“I’ve got it,” Kris said. He picked up the packet and kept hold of it while Ade dealt with his phone.

“What’s your number?”

“Not a clue!” Kris took out his phone and unlocked it…and dropped the cigarette packet.

“Oh God!” Ade started laughing. “Are you OK with me taking your number off your CV?”

“Yeah, totally.”

“I’ll text you later if that’s all right?”

“Perfect.” Kris handed back the cigarette packet. Ade immediately took one out and lit it. “Mind if I hang around while you have that? I’ve got to re-record a set of ads I did last year, but I’m not due there until ten.”

“Sure!” Ade replied tightly before coughing out a spluttery blue cloud. “I don’t really smoke,” he said.

Kris raised an eyebrow.

“Honestly, I don’t. I gave up ages ago, but I bought these yesterday, so I figured I might as well finish the packet. Oh, who am I kidding?”

“Hey, no judgement here.” Kris had never smoked, but Shaunna had when she was younger. Jack was a smoker too, and while Kris couldn’t say he enjoyed kisses that tasted of cigarettes, it wasn’t a turn-off. “So…about this drink. Would you like to meet me later? About seven o’clock?”

“Seven o’clock…” Ade tapped ash from his cigarette, took another drag, tapped the ash again.

“Or whatever time suits you,” Kris added.

“Seven should be fine, I think.”

“You can say no,” Kris assured him, praying he wouldn’t.

“It’s not that I don’t want to…”

“Rain check?”

Ade considered for a moment. “No. It should be OK, but can I call you later if it’s not?”

Kris couldn’t help grinning at that.

“What’s funny?” Ade asked.

“I’ve never been stood up in advance before.”

“Ah.” Ade’s chuckle was bittersweet. “That’s what I’m trying to avoid, as I won’t know if I can make it until I get home from work.”

“OK,” Kris accepted. “Is there anywhere in particular you like? Anywhere you don’t?”

“Maybe somewhere near you, in case I don’t make it?”

“It’s a forty-minute train journey.”

“I have a car.”

Ade stubbed out his cigarette and fished a packet of mints from his pocket, offering them to Kris. He took one for the sake of politeness, and thank goodness he had, because the next minute he and Ade were hugging and kissing cheeks.

“See you later,” Ade murmured close to Kris’s ear.

“I hope so,” Kris replied.

“Text me the details.” Ade released him and went back inside. Kris stared after him a moment longer and set off for the rival station a few streets away.

*

“Did you see him?”

Kris hadn’t even made it as far as closing the front door.

“Yep. This morning.”

He walked through to the kitchen, pausing to accept the gift of a tea towel from Casper on the way. Very pleased with himself, the nutty golden Lab went bounding ahead and did a couple of circuits of the table, almost knocking Shaunna’s legs from under her. Boiling water overshot the mugs she was filling.

“Casper, pack it in!” she shouted. It made no difference whatsoever. The dog always acted like they’d been gone for weeks.

“Have you just got in?” Kris asked, letting the dog out into the garden.

“About ten minutes ago.” She padded past him, barefoot, and collected the milk from the fridge.

Kris sat at the table and picked up the post, thumbing through the envelopes, flipping each to the back of the pile. Nothing exciting. A mug appeared in front of him. “Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

Casper charged back in, and out again.

“I’ll take him for a W-A-L-K in a minute,” Kris said.

“He can wait.” Shaunna thunked down on the chair opposite, tea in one hand, a packet of biscuits in the other, preparing to get the low-down on All Things Ade.

“Well?” she said.

“Well what?” Kris asked, trying to keep his expression serious. His mouth was having none of it. He stuffed a biscuit in it .

“Aha!” Shaunna grinned. “So he is single?”

Kris chewed quickly and swallowed down some tea, burning his tongue in the process. “I didn’t get the chance to ask, but I’m guessing so. He’s agreed to meet up for a drink tonight.”

“That’s promising.”

“Yeah, it is…”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“I’m not. There’s something not right.”

“Is this about the bruises?”

“I think so. Maybe he’s got kids with emotional problems or a relative with dementia or something, because he said he wouldn’t know if he could make it until after work.”

“Or he’s in an abusive relationship?” Shaunna speculated, and she wasn’t being spiteful, though she’d have every right to be, seeing as a married man was part of why they were separated—only a very small part. They’d already been sleeping in different rooms when it happened, and Kris had been struggling with depression. Jack had made a move on him, and Kris had kind of fallen into it. The result: a short and meaningless fling that he was so ashamed of he’d kept it from Shaunna and even temporarily moved out to avoid facing her.

Jack was Kris’s only indiscretion, but he still felt like a cheat. He and Shaunna had been together for twenty years, and she was his best friend. She knew everything about him. They lived together, ate together, did their laundry jointly, shopped for groceries, went to the cinema, to dinner—everything they’d always done as husband and wife, and that was the problem. However excited she was to hear about Ade, it felt wrong to talk to her about seeing someone else.

“I know you’re worried,” she said. “But it’s not the same as with Jack.”

“It isn’t?”

“Good God, no! He was a manipulative piece of…work. There again, I know what you’re like. You take people at face value and go all in. ”

“You mean I’m gullible,” Kris said.

“Trusting,” Shaunna corrected. “And there’s nothing wrong with that, as long as you’re not setting yourself up for heartbreak.”

“Should I cancel?”

“No. But you should probably ask Ade straight up if he’s involved with anyone else.”

Kris suspected it was already too late, as regards saving himself from heartbreak, but at least he’d know where he stood. Still, he didn’t relish having that conversation.

“Hey, maybe you could come along as my chaperone,” he joked.

Shaunna rolled her eyes. “Or maybe I should stop trying to mother you.”

Kris laughed and got up. “I’m going for a shower.”

“OK, hun. You want a shirt ironing?”

“What was that about not mothering me?”

She grabbed the tea towel the dog had nicked earlier and flicked it at Kris’s behind as he passed.

He dodged away and ran upstairs, returning half a minute later. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at—” Her eyebrows arched in surprise as she took the plain black shirt from him. “It’s a date, not a funeral!”

“I know! It’s just…Ade mentioned he used to wear bright colours, and…well, I should start toning it down a little. I’m nearly forty, after all.”

“So?”

Nothing to add in his defence, Kris started back up the stairs, listening to the clanging of the ironing board being set up.

“He must be pretty special,” Shaunna called after him.

He stopped and glanced over the banister, giving her a hopeful smile. “Yeah. I think he is.”