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

11 Classic

Ade

K ris excused himself to go to the gents’, so Ade didn’t get a chance to say so, but from what he’d heard and seen, Kris was way more successful than his brother. He was a brilliant actor, a loving father, never mind being in a relationship for twenty years and coming out the other side still friends. Those were things that Ade could only dream of. Or they had been until this evening.

It was so easy, sitting and chatting like normal people. At no point had Kris put pressure on Ade to talk, just filling the gaps, giving Ade glimpses of all the important people and animals in his life. Of course, Kris was used to performing, but he was off the clock. He could still be playing a role, Ade supposed, but that wasn’t his impression. Indeed, he’d learnt more about Kris Johansson in thirty-six hours than he’d ever know about Fergus, who was presumably still sleeping off the wine. No texts, no calls; it was bliss.

“Can you believe it’s gone ten already?” Kris asked, sliding back into his seat.

“Is it?” The evening had gone so fast, yet all the stress and trauma of getting Fergus out of his flat seemed like days, not hours ago. What had been days ago, though, was Ade’s last proper meal, and his appetite was back with a vengeance, as if his body had suddenly turned back on and was urging him to take whatever was on offer. He pressed on his belly to ease the emptiness, but it merely served to draw attention to the loud, hungry grumble. Kris’s eyebrows rose .

“I was going to suggest we have another drink before last orders, but would you like to go for some food?”

Ade screwed up his nose, embarrassed, but God, he was hungry, and he was fairly sure the G he teased the gap with the tip of his tongue, feeling both silly and fluttery with desire. Then Kris’s Adam’s apple bobbed with his gulp, and Ade giggled, as did Kris—hiding behind his hand.

“I’m sorry, but you’re very attractive.”

“Thank you,” Ade said. “I think you are too. I thought so from the minute I saw you yesterday morning. But to answer your question, yes. I’m absolutely famished.”

“In that case…” Kris took out his debit card and waited for the bartender to look his way, waving the card at her.

“I’m not sure what to do about the car,” Ade said. He hadn’t intended on drinking over the limit, but if he’d been in any state to plan ahead, he’d have booked into a cheap local hotel and left the car there.

“Where did you park?” Kris asked.

“In the car park out back.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind you leaving it there. Want me to ask?”

Ade nodded hesitantly, half-hoping the bartender would say no, but she was at their table already.

“I can’t see it being a problem,” she said. “Just overnight, right? ”

Kris looked to Ade to confirm.

“That’s right,” Ade said. “I’ll come back for it first thing.”

“No worries then.” She handed Kris his receipt. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.” She smiled at them both but followed up with a wink that was without question just for Kris.

“Told you so,” Ade said as they stepped out onto the pavement. Kris waved his hand.

“She knows we’re on a date, that’s all.” He paused to fasten his jacket. “Did I do the wrong thing?”

Ade frowned. “When?”

“Suggesting you leave your car in the pub car park.”

“Oh! No. Which way?”

“Towards the town centre.” Kris pointed along the street, and they set off at a slow stroll.

“It seems a nice area.” Ade tried to make it sound like he was making a general observation.

“It is,” Kris confirmed. “Your car should be safe enough.”

Ade chuckled. “I’m not a petrol head or anything. But it was my dad’s car.”

“What is it?”

“An MGB GT. He bought it new in the early seventies, and he took such good care of it. Waxed it every Sunday, full service every year…”

“Vintage or classic? I’ve never really understood the difference.”

“You know more than most. Vintage refers to the really old cars, before production lines. Mine’s a classic slash antique.”

“Can I see it?”

“Now?”

“Why not? We don’t have a reservation anywhere, and it’ll put your mind at ease.”

Ade grinned. “OK then.” They about-turned and headed back. “I should warn you it’s nothing flash or fancy, and it’s not worth much to anyone else…”

“But it’s priceless to you,” Kris said .

“Yes. And here it is.” Ade gestured and stepped aside, beaming proudly. Under the bright blue-white of the car park’s floodlights, his little maroon MG was positively gleaming.

“Wow, it’s gorgeous!” Kris said. “That chrome is like a mirror. It must take a huge amount of work to keep it like that.”

“A couple of hours a week. I love it. Mind you…” He buffed a watermark off the bonnet with the inside of his sleeve. “If it wasn’t my dad’s, I’d trade it for an E-Type in a heartbeat.”

“That’s a Jaguar, isn’t it?” Kris asked.

“It’s the Jaguar! My dad took me a trade show when I was fifteen—well, he took me to loads, but that was the one I remember vividly because there was a Series 1 E-Type on display, British Racing Green, green suede interior, absolutely stunning. I’ve wanted one ever since, but they’re far too expensive, and I don’t drive that much. As it is, this little beauty spends more time in the garage than on the road.” Although if he could stop boring Kris with car talk for thirty seconds, that might change. “Sorry! I get carried away.”

Kris shook his head, smiling. “Your enthusiasm is infectious. That friend I mentioned—Dan? He’s always been mad about cars, but not this sort. The showy new ones that look like they should be on a racetrack.”

“Supercars,” Ade said. Kris shrugged. “Like Ferraris and Lamborghinis?”

“Yes, that’s them.”

“I can see the appeal…”

“I can’t, but your car is different. It has personality.”

“By the gallon!” Ade said. “Anyway, thank you for convincingly feigning interest. Shall we go and eat?”

“Let’s do that, but for the record, I’m not faking it.”

Ade needed no further encouragement and chattered all the way to the restaurant—an unpretentious place with a soul kitchen vibe and multicultural menu, which, Kris explained when he squeezed a word in edgeways, was one of a handful of places he could trust not to cross-contaminate his meal with shellfish. Ade was more than happy with Kris’s choice, regardless of the reasons for it. He was enjoying the company and being somewhere Fergus wouldn’t think to look for him even if he were sober enough to do so.

They were seated at a table near the back and both accepted a glass of the waiter’s beer recommendation whilst they decided what food to order. Ade tried to ignore the seafood section of the menu, but his eyes were instantly drawn to the prawn Kashmiri. He loved sweet curries and seafood and would usually have gone for that by default, but the last thing he needed was his date going into anaphylactic shock.

“It’s fine, you know,” Kris assured him. “It’s only if I ingest it that it causes a severe reaction.”

“How much would you need to ingest?” Ade asked, chancing some rare optimism and thinking ahead.

“Not much. But the chefs here are super careful.”

“Say, for instance, if someone who’d eaten prawns was to…lick your face or something…”

“Well…” Kris bit his lip, fighting a smile. “If I knew they were planning to, I’d take antihistamines in advance, but I can’t say it’s a situation I’ve come across.”

Ade blushed. Flirting didn’t come as easy to him as it used to, but it was fun practising and not worrying that he’d be ridiculed or told he was an embarrassment.

“I’ll go with the chicken Kashmiri to be on the same side,” he said, meeting Kris’s gaze. “Leave my face-licking options open.”

Soon after that, the waiter returned and took their order, and then they were eating and chatting and laughing like old friends, and Ade knew he wanted more of this. So much more. But it would mean sending Fergus packing once and for all, and he’d never been strong enough, always letting him worm his way back in. Tonight was a glimpse of an alternative reality, of his life without Fergus in it. Whatever happened, wherever it went, he’d hold it in his heart for always.