The Light in the Hallway (ARC) Read online

  rang. It was Oliver.

  ‘How we doing, Olly? I’m sitting down on the bed

  and so hit me if it’s a code red and I can make the neces-

  sary arrangements.’ He smiled, half admitting to himself

  that the thought of having to drive to see Oliver for an

  emergency might actually be preferable to going to a pub

  quiz with a gut full of nerves and no idea of what to wear.

  ‘Very funny!’ Oliver chuckled. ‘No code red. I’d say

  we are all green at the moment.’

  ‘Well, I’m very glad to hear it.’ He felt his stomach

  unbunch.

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  ‘Just thought I’d give you a shout and see what you’re

  up to.’

  ‘Funny you should ask.’ Nick looked at his reflec-

  tion in the mirror. ‘I’m about to go to the Blue Anchor

  for a quiz night with Eric and a few people from work

  and your Auntie Jen, although apparently I’m not al-

  lowed to join her team. I think she’s still worried I

  might embarrass her in front of her friends, even after

  all these years.’

  ‘You’re going to the pub?’ Oliver’s tone was sharp,

  surprised and if Nick was hearing it correctly, carried a

  slight edge of disapproval.

  ‘Well, Eric asked if I fancied it, and I must admit I

  feel a bit nervous. It’s the first time I’ve been out since…’

  He let this hang.

  ‘You never go to the pub.’ Oliver’s voice now qui-

  eter, his tone reflective, and Nick felt his pain. And he

  got it. Oliver was a kid who whilst he wished his dad

  no ill, didn’t want things to be moving on, worried no

  doubt that they were starting to pick up where they left

  off before Kerry got sick, fearful that she might in any

  way be slipping from her position as the first thing he

  thought about. This Nick understood because these were

  his worries too. It felt like a disservice.

  ‘I don’t know if I’ll go even.’ He paused. ‘I think Eric

  was just trying to get me out of the house.’

  There was a beat or two of silence before Oliver spoke

  up. ‘You should go, Dad. Eric is right, you should get

  out of the house.’

  ‘Do you think so?’ He held the phone close to his face,

  wanting at some level to hear Oliver’s approval.

  ‘Yes, go, have a nice time.’

  ‘Thank you, son. What have you been up to?’

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  ‘Not much.’ He yawned. ‘Seeing Tasha, working a

  bit, reading.’

  ‘Ah, reading, good – you’re working your way through

  your overwhelmingly long list?’

  ‘I am actually.’ Oliver laughed.

  ‘And seeing Tasha, you say? Is she … Are you…?’ He

  wasn’t sure how to phrase it, concerned that words like

  ‘dating’ and ‘going out’ might have gone out of fashion

  a long time since.

  ‘I like her, Dad.’ Nick could hear the smile in his son’s

  voice and it made him smile in return.

  ‘Well, that’s good, and for the record I thought she

  seemed really nice, what I saw of her.’

  ‘Did you like Mum instantly?’

  The question caught him a little off guard. ‘Yes, yes, I

  did. I mean I was aware of her for a while, as we were in

  a lot of the same classes at school, but when I did finally

  speak to her, when we were a little bit older, then that

  was it for me.’ He remembered the first time he became

  aware of her, feeling drawn to her in a way that wasn’t

  logical. It was no more than the look of her, the way her

  hair fell across her face and the way she shone to him

  across the classroom, like she was the only other person

  in the room. She had filled his thoughts and his torturous

  nights and the day he finally got to hold her, kiss her,

  that was the day he felt like he’d won the best prize the

  world had to offer. To him she was perfect. He hated

  that the glow of that prize had tarnished over the years.

  Their imperfections revealed to each other with every

  year that passed, and Kerry’s secrecy; running up debt

  that nearly crippled them had almost been the hatchet to

  their marriage. He would not have liked to predict what

  might have become of them had her illness not bound

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  them with ropes fashioned from duty, kindness and an

  almost forgotten love.

  ‘That’s kind of how it was for me with Tasha. I saw

  her that first time with you and then I bumped into her a

  couple of times at fresher events, but now I just can’t seem

  to disconnect from her mentally, it’s like she is always in

  my head. Do you know what I mean, Dad?’

  ‘I do.’ It was Nick’s turn to be a little surprised. He

  could only think of Oliver as their little boy, young, rid-

  ing his bike down the street with a wobble, minus his

  stabilisers, or jumping into his lap when the house was

  plunged into darkness during a power cut. He could still

  remember the feel of his small body in cotton pyjamas

  curled into his lap and how he had held his boy close,

  sound asleep, long after the lights had come back on …

  and now here he was, attending fresher events with a girl

  in his head. It was a jolt to be reminded that when he was

  Oliver’s age, Oliver was a toddler.

  ‘I knew I liked her and so I had to figure out how to

  take things forward.’

  ‘I see.’ He beamed at the boy’s confidence and, ap-

  parently, initiative. ‘So what did you do to move things

  forward?’

  ‘I snogged her mate.’

  ‘You snogged her mate?’ Nick let out a loud burst

  of laughter, which Oliver echoed. ‘Jesus, Olly, I wasn’t

  expecting that. I think things might be a bit different to

  how they were when I was trying to land your mum. I

  think snogging her mate would have seen her running

  for the hills!’

  ‘I was talking to Joe, who is on my corridor, and he

  said the best way to get a girl to like you is to make her

  jealous, and so I snogged her mate, and then I told Tasha

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  I was drunk, which I was, very, and that I didn’t really

  like her mate, and then Tasha posted a picture on Insta

  of her about to go out and I liked it with smiling cat eye

  emojis and that was that.’

  ‘Olly’ – Nick gathered his thoughts – ‘I have no idea

  what you’re talking about.’

  It was Oliver’s turn to laugh out loud.

  ‘I’m glad you and Tasha have … become friends, but

  I think if I had to give you one piece of advice—’

  ‘Oh god,’ Oliver sighed. ‘Not advice.’ He elongated

  the word like it was something toxic.

  Nick ignored him. ‘If I had to give you one piece of

  advice, it would be don’t play games with people or their

  emotions. That wasn’t the nicest thing to do to Tasha’s

  mate. People aren’t disposable. Be straight, always tell

  them
how you feel and remember that we all bruise

  in the same way, be kind, respectful.’ He assumed that

  Oliver’s silence meant he was contemplating his words.

  He hoped so.

  ‘So did Mum like you instantly?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I don’t know.’

  The two men sat in silence across the miles, each

  sliding into the dark void of loss they could never fill

  with knowledge, as the only person they could ask was

  no longer here.

  ‘I’d better go, Dad.’

  ‘Sure, thanks for calling, Olly.’

  ‘No worries.’

  And just like that the call ended. Nick sat on the edge

  of the bed and thought about his boy, a boy taking giant

  leaps into adulthood.

  Snogged her mate … He laughed again, shaking his head.

  The front doorbell rang and Treacle barked accordingly.

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  ‘Shush, Treacle!’ he yelled as he raced down the stairs

  and opened the door to Eric.

  ‘You ready, Judith?’ His friend rubbed his hands to

  stave off the cold.

  ‘I thought I was meeting you there?’ Nick left his mate

  in the hall and went to grab his trainers from the kitchen.

  ‘You were, but I know you and thought left to your

  own devices you might bottle it.’

  ‘And you might have been right,’ Nick confessed as

  he shut Treacle in and closed the front door. ‘Just spoke

  to Olly. He’s got a girlfriend.’

  Eric stopped walking and stood on the pavement.

  ‘Jesus H Christ! Don’t tell me that! How in the world can

  Olly have a girlfriend; he’s only six! And I’m a grown-up

  and I don’t have one!’

  ‘Ah, apparently you might have been going about it

  all wrong. The answer is to find someone you like and

  snog her mate.’

  Eric looked skyward, as if taking the suggestion ser-

  iously. ‘I’m trying to think of which of Jen’s mates I

  could snog.’

  Nick shook his head. ‘Give it up with the Jen thing.

  It ain’t never going to happen or it would have by now.’

  Eric tapped his nose and walked briskly. ‘I’ve told

  you before, it’s a waiting game. We have a connection.’

  ‘You do not have a connection!’

  ‘We do! There is much more to us than you know

  about.’ Eric looked into the distance.

  ‘Is that right?’ Nick looked at him quizzically.

  ‘Just you wait and see.’ Eric smiled, undefeated.

  The pub was busy with the right hum of chatter

  and the nostalgic scent of beer and cologne, which he

  hadn’t smelled for a while. It took him back to underage

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  drinking in the pub with Kerry, the two of them supping

  illegal pints and walking home hand in hand, feeling like

  the grown-ups they were desperate to become, hurtling

  towards adulthood and all the responsibilities of which

  they were unaware at a million miles an hour. He looked

  around and spotted familiar faces: from work, old friends

  from school, Barney who worked at the petrol pumps up

  at Mackie’s, and Jen and Beverly sitting at the bar, laugh-

  ing, doubled over with glasses of wine in their hands.

  ‘Pint?’ Eric made a beeline for Jen and Nick saw

  Beverly nudge her in the ribs with a warning dig, sup-

  posedly to let her know that Eric that was incoming. Jen

  spun around on the stool, facing the bar, and he felt for

  his mate who surreptitiously brushed his hair with his

  fingers, still, after all these years, trying to make the very best impression. He followed Eric.

  ‘Evening, ladies.’ Eric smiled. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

  he asked casually, the swallow of his Adam’s apple sug-

  gesting that inside he wasn’t feeling quite as confident as

  he presented. It made Nick feel less self-conscious about

  the nerves that swirled in his gut.

  ‘No, but thanks, Eric, we just got them.’ Beverly lifted

  her glass in proof. ‘Whose team you on, Nick?’ she asked,

  before sipping her drink.

  ‘Eric’s, I suppose.’

  Jen turned to her brother and kept her voice low,

  speaking from the side of her mouth. ‘You okay, Broth?’

  He nodded.

  ‘We just need to keep things as normal as possible.

  You’ll be fine. But I have my eye on you. And so does Eric.

  I know coming out tonight is a big deal and if you’re not

  okay’ – her tone was sincere, her eyes searching his – ‘just

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  give me the nod and I’ll have you home on that couch

  chatting to Treacle quicker than you know.’

  ‘Thanks, Jen.’ He smiled at her. Her support was as

  reassuring as it was welcome. ‘That means a lot.’

  ‘Oh, don’t get mushy.’ She shuddered, turning to

  Beverly and raising her voice, ‘I reckon a definite win

  for us tonight then, Bev, if dweeb and dweeb junior are

  teaming up.’

  ‘You can come on our team if you like, Jen?’ Eric

  ignored her jibe and asked with boyish enthusiasm in

  response, to which Jen rolled her eyes.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen!’ Big Brian from the British

  Legion, a barrel-chested man with an impressive mous-

  tache, who spent six months planning the Remembrance

  Day parade in the town and the following six months

  recounting it to anyone he bumped into, now called

  out across the bar and everyone fell silent. ‘This is your

  ten-minute warning for all those here for the pub quiz:

  get registered, pay up, dump your phones in the box and

  take your seats!’

  Eric handed him a pint. Nick sipped the foamy head

  and savoured the hoppy, bitter, wheaty taste on his lips.

  He hadn’t drunk a proper pint in the pub for a long, long

  time. He had to stop himself from necking it.

  ‘Right, I’ll go pay and ditch our phones.’ He took

  Nick’s device from his hand. ‘You go sit with Alex and

  Ellie.’ He pointed across the room to their old mate and

  his wife, who might have been the best-looking girl in

  the youth club, but whom they had quickly learnt was a

  fun sucker. And it wasn’t only her own fun she sucked,

  but sadly Alex’s too. Alex, who had very much been

  an active shareholder in Half Bike and a proper laugh

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  throughout his teens, had very quickly after he and Ellie

  waltzed up the aisle turned into a shadow of his former

  self. He was a man obsessed with paint colour charts and

  spent his Sundays at the garden centre. His natural and

  ready laugh had been replaced with a self-conscious smile

  that was always quickly followed by a glance in Ellie’s

  direction, as if approval or, worse, permission were needed

  for this show of happiness. He worked in administration

  for a small insurance company in Northallerton and was

  someone who always looked like he had lost a coin and

  found a button. Nick watched Alex finger the collar of

  his polo shirt, pushi
ng the tips flat against his breastbone, and knew it was most unlikely that he would ever own a

  Harley Davidson and ride it around Market Square. Nick

  tried to imagine Ellie’s face if he did.

  ‘It’s nice to see you out, Nick,’ Ellie offered with

  kindness, and he felt mean for having thought about her

  ‘fun sucker’ status.

  ‘Thanks, Ellie. Feels odd,’ he confessed.

  She made a ‘humph’ noise and adjusted bra strap

  before speaking with her jaw jutting. ‘I don’t doubt that

  if it was me who’d popped me clogs, he’d be out on the

  town before the sandwiches at me wake were curled.’ She

  nodded her head in Alex’s direction, tight-lipped and with

  her hands clutched in her lap. Nick smiled, and his flash

  of guilt disappeared as quickly as it had risen.

  Alex looked at him with an expression of resignation

  and Nick pictured the boy who used to be the life and

  soul. He couldn’t imagine spending time with someone

  who made you feel the way Ellie seemed to, the very

  opposite of supportive. He thought of how Kerry and he

  had nearly always liked each other’s company. At least that

  was the case until the winter of 2008, when Kerry had

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  had a moment of crisis, flirting with a man who wasn’t

  him and racking up a monstrous debt on store and credit

  cards, all of which came as a massive shock to him. Her

  actions had threatened to derail them, leaving long shadows

  over their marriage that her sickness had largely erased –

  largely but not completely. And it was in this shaded grey

  area of hurt that his thoughts sometimes strayed during

  the early hours when he stared at the ceiling, trying to

  make sense of it all. He had liked it in the beginning of

  their marriage when Kerry had felt like a safe harbour.

  He looked around the bar and felt her absence keenly. It

  had been decades since he had been in a social situation

  as a single man.

  The tables quickly filled, the noise level rose and spec-

  tators either too chicken to play or too tight to cough up

  the three-quid subscription clustered around the bar. Big

  Brian took up his seat between two stony-faced adjudica-

  tors and tapped the tabletop microphone in front of him.

  This was serious business. Eric sidled next to him and

  raised his shoulders in excited anticipation in the way he

  always had, like when they were small and standing in

  the queue waiting for the ice cream van.