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

29 Out

Ade

A de only needed a quick shower and had promised to be back at the pub within the hour. Kris was meeting him there—the first time Ade would be accompanied by his boyfriend to a work do.

My boyfriend.

What an extraordinary feeling, not to mention going on a night out with people he knew. On reflection, that was probably what had made him most anxious about attending Dan and Adele’s engagement party. He’d been to after-show parties, birthdays, weddings, funerals—the whole array of social functions—as someone else’s partner, since they were Fergus’s friends, colleagues, family. Never Ade’s.

But the party hadn’t been like that. He’d met all of Kris’s friends, and they were lovely. Two weeks on, Ade was settled back into his apartment and starting to enjoy life again. Tonight, Kris was staying over; tomorrow, they’d take the train to his place and stay there. It was uncomplicated, safe, and very liberating.

As Ade speed-walked home, he tallied how many nights out he’d missed during the past eleven years—colleagues he’d never had the opportunity to wish well, Christmas parties that kept the station in gossip for months while he listened on, no idea how much of it was true and nothing to contribute. Because that was the thing with abusive relationships; the physical side was tough to endure, but the psychological part was what really beat him down. Being isolated from his friends, having to tell lies and make excuses for why he could never be a part of the social whirl— he needed to remind himself of that, in those moments when the what-if reared its ugly head. What if he’d let Fergus come back? The honest answer: he’d have been stuck in that same rut, and he’d have lost Kris.

He cleared the stairs in twos, the sound of Mary’s TV audible in the hallway outside their apartments—a sure sign that Benny was keeping her company for the evening. They were an unlikely couple, what with Mary’s hearing being as keen as it was and her intolerance of noise of any sort, and Benny’s loud insistence that his hearing aids were working perfectly well.

Once inside, Ade set the shower running and went to his bedroom, grabbing the closest shirt and pair of trousers from his wardrobe and laying them out on the bed. As he turned to leave, he glimpsed something that stopped him in his tracks. On the bedside table, where he had left it weeks ago, was his tablet, fully charged and switched off. He hadn’t made a single checklist since he came home from Julia’s. He hadn’t needed to. And that felt good. Really good.

Back to the bathroom, grinning like an idiot, Ade showered quickly, ran a razor over his already smooth chin and slapped on cologne, still hissing with the sting as he returned to his room and pulled on boxers and socks. He picked up the shirt and slid one arm into a sleeve, but then stopped and shook his arm free, leaving the shirt where it landed. He opened the wardrobe again and eyed the grim selection—greys, blues, blacks—all the crappy dull clothes Fergus had considered acceptable, and that was about the best he’d get out of him. He was never ‘handsome’ or ‘alluring’ to Fergus; just acceptable.

Ade about-turned and dropped to his knees, reaching under the bed for the storage bag he’d stashed there long ago. It was the sort that vacuum-sealed, so the contents were no doubt horrifically creased, but it wouldn’t take long to iron a shirt, and it was worth it. Tonight, he would be stepping out as himself, not Fergus’s shadow .

Unzipping the bag, he watched in wonder as the contents expanded, almost as if they were living, breathing things. He knew exactly which shirt he wanted for his rebirth and lifted away one garment after another, each triggering happy associations long forgotten, until there it was. He shook it loose and studied it for a moment then clutched it to his chest, overwhelmed by how much he’d missed it. It wasn’t until he had the iron in his hand that he realised he was crying.

Of course, the shirt was terribly outdated, but that didn’t matter. This was the one he had worn for five minutes, at most, on the night he’d been told he looked like a clown and nobody would ever take him seriously or find him attractive if he dressed like that. In the years that had passed since, he’d believed Fergus’s cruel words, and even in those rare moments when his mind attempted a coup, he’d never had the confidence to test that assertion.

But tonight he could handle it. He would wear the shirt, and if people mocked, he’d just laugh it off, maybe even explain to them why he was wearing something old enough to have come from a vintage boutique. It might clash dreadfully with whatever Kris was wearing, but so what? He was celebrating with his friends—and his boyfriend—on a work night out. It was the best feeling in the world.

With the shirt ironed and given a quick spruce with fabric freshener, Ade returned to his bedroom to finish getting ready, using the tips of his fingers to scoop up a little of his new styling wax—Shaunna’s recommendation—envisaging that it would be in his favour to keep his hair as goo-free as possible for the private afterparty.

While he hated to compare, it was hard not to when the differences between Fergus and Kris were so stark. Where Fergus was brutal, Kris was gentle. Other than his temper, Fergus was robotically rational, whereas Kris was over-emotional. But the one that really stood out was the physical contact. Outside of sex, intimidation and violence, Fergus had touched Ade so rarely he could recall every single occasion. Kris, by contrast, was constantly seeking out a hand to hold or stroking Ade’s arm or playing with his hair. A fully paid-up associate of the Ginger Appreciation Society. Ade laughed at his reflection. He felt great, and his self-confidence had grown enough for him to like the person laughing back at him. He was ready for a good night out.

Without further ado, he collected his phone, wallet and keys and headed out to the hall to put on his coat. There was a knock at the door.

“Hold on a sec,” Ade called, pausing to fasten his coat. Mary didn’t miss a trick, and it was kind of sweet, although it could be a bit of a pain when he was in a rush, as she did like a chat. With any luck, she’d see he was on his way out and leave whatever it was she wanted to tell him until the morning. Ade opened the door, breath drawn, words at the ready.

“Hello, Adrian.”

For a few seconds, Ade stopped breathing entirely as he stared in horror and disbelief at the man standing before him, an arm raised, hand casually resting on the doorframe, widening his posture, staking his claim.

“You aren’t heading out, are you? I hoped we could talk.”

The question, as always, was phrased to lead Ade to give the required answer. Not happening. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you. We should talk, but in private.”

Ade shook his head, no.

“Adrian, come on. There’s too much past for us to simply walk away.”

Ade started to close the door. Fergus put his foot in the way.

“You need to go,” Ade said, all of his effort on sounding calm and assertive, though he was quaking. “Now.”

But Fergus didn’t leave. He smiled and moved, slowly but surely, into the hallway of the apartment. Ade backed off. The front door closed. Fergus turned, raising his arms, an action to which Ade was so thoroughly conditioned that he reflexively flinched. Fergus let his arms drop into a lazy shrug. It was a gesture conveying surrender, yet this visit, not to mention how he’d gained entry, showed how little intention he had of giving up. At a slender five foot eight, Ade was used to other men being bigger than he was, and Fergus was both taller and stockier. He worked out almost every day, and once upon a time, Ade had appreciated his defined musculature and rugged features. Once upon a time, he’d thought Fergus to be a handsome, loveable rogue. Now, those very same qualities repulsed him and made him nauseous with fear.

No, physically he couldn’t challenge Fergus, but the few weeks’ respite had made Ade strong in other ways. This was his apartment, and right at this moment, he was supposed to be in the pub with his friends, colleagues and boyfriend. No way was he missing out again. Just the possibility that he might made him angry, but if he could keep it together, he was the one in control here.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” he said and turned, leading the way to the living room. He sat in the middle of his new sofa, knowing that Fergus wouldn’t sit next to him because he was long-sighted and used eye contact to intimidate.

Fergus sat in the armchair, leaning back, legs crossed, relaxed. He smiled, but it was false and smarmy. “New shirt?” he asked. Ade didn’t answer. “Come on, Adrian. I’m trying my hardest.” Still nothing from Ade, Fergus tried, “Do you want me to just say it?”

Ade lifted an eyebrow noncommittally. Fergus took it as permission to state his case.

“We’ve had a good break, and I’m sure you’ll agree, it’s been a much-needed opportunity to think through the way we treated one another.”

Ade didn’t mean to sigh, although time was ticking by, and he wanted to get to the pub.

“Am I boring you?” Fergus asked.

“Not boring, no. But you are holding me up.”

“Why? Where are you going? On a date? ”

Ade glared. “It’s none of your business.”

Fergus nodded slowly. “Fair enough. But, you know, you cannae blame me for all of it.”

“Who said anything about blame?” Ade gave up on concealing how tedious he was finding this and rubbed his eyes. “Is there anything else you wanted to say?”

“Nothing important. Or certainly not important to you.”

“Fergus.” Ade paused and thought carefully about his words. He didn’t want to antagonise, but he needed to make it as clear and unambiguous as he could. “You were important to me, and we have some great shared memories, but our relationship was over a year ago. We tried again, and it wasn’t to be. Now it’s time for us both to move on.”

“You’ve met someone.”

“It’s irrelevant whether I’ve—”

“Of course it’s relevant!” Fergus uncrossed his legs and shifted forward. He was riled. “If you’re seeing someone else, then you’ve given up on us. Correct?”

“Which means you gave up on us first.”

“Meaning?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Are you accusing me of cheating on you?”

“Did you?”

Fergus gave a small, supercilious laugh. “Our relationship was finished a year ago. You just told me that.”

“Yes, but you were all for making a fresh start. As far as I was concerned, that meant we were trying to work it out. The fact you were screwing around—”

“One guy. One night. That’s all.”

“It doesn’t matter if it was one or one hundred. And you brought whoever it was here, to my apartment. To my bed!”

“ Your apartment now, is it?”

Ade shook his head in exasperation. He was on dangerous ground. It always began like this, but he refused to back down .

“I’m sorry, Ferg, but I’m late.” Ade got up and waited for Fergus to do the same, which he did, intentionally stepping into Ade’s space. It set him on edge.

Fergus gave him a sad smile. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

It was so difficult to play tough, but Ade had to. He couldn’t let Fergus’s long-awaited apology get to him because it was just more lies. Or maybe…it wasn’t. “Me too.”

“So it’s really over for good?”

Ade nodded. “Yes.”

In a flash, Fergus switched from humble to furious, shoving Ade hard with a palm against his chest. Ade staggered, his back slamming into the wall. He panicked and lifted his arms to push Fergus away, but Fergus grabbed his wrists and twisted.

“Get off me!” Ade hissed.

“Not until you’ve heard what I have to say.” Fergus stopped twisting, but kept his grip tight, waiting for Ade to stop struggling. “Are you ready?”

“Let go.”

Fergus gave Ade a pitying look.

“Or I’ll scream.”

“Scream away. If anyone hears, I’ll just tell them you like it rough. Because you do, you filthy slut.” Fergus released one of Ade’s hands and grabbed his face, pushing his fingers into the flesh as if it were dough.

“Last chance,” Ade squeezed out. Fergus’s hand slid down, and he pressed his thumb to Ade’s Adam’s apple. It was impossible to swallow, and as Ade drew in the breath, preparing to follow through with the scream, there was another knock on the door, followed by Mary’s voice.

“Ade? Are you in there, lovey?”