A Terrible Kindness(75)

He stands upright at the clink and rattle of the chain on the inside. ‘Hello? Can I help you?’

William registers blond curls on broad shoulders. The black and white stripe of the rugby shirt hurts his eyes.

‘Is Martin in?’

The face considers him, then turns and shouts up the stairs, ‘Martin! It’s for you!’

William thinks of introducing himself, but can’t summon the energy.

‘You should leave him in peace, you know,’ the man says quietly, leaning in, ‘he does have a life.’

William can only nod as he hears Martin thundering down towards them.

‘William! Have I forgotten something? I haven’t looked in my diary for days.’

‘No,’ he says, trying to raise a smile, ‘I’m not meant to be here.’

Martin puts his hand on his shoulder and guides him in. ‘Steve, this is my oldest friend, William.’

Steve smiles awkwardly. ‘Sorry, William, I thought you … you must think I’m a complete arsehole.’

‘Not at all,’ William says, putting out his hand to shake Steve’s but misjudging it and jabbing him in the stomach.

Steve turns to Martin. ‘Sorry, I thought he was …’

Martin scrunches his face. ‘You do look dreadful, William. Come on in.’ He gestures up the staircase. ‘Steve, put the kettle on, would you?’

‘Sure.’ Steve bounds up the stairs like a big cat.

‘I’ll get this,’ is all Martin says about the suitcase. ‘Up you go.’ William feels the steady pressure of Martin’s flat palm all the way up the stairs.

The sitting room’s bay window is full of the fresh magnolia leaves. The patterns of their shadows flicker and dance over the wooden floor. On the table are two willow pattern plates with half-eaten bacon sandwiches, a bottle of brown sauce, two mugs.

Steve appears from the little kitchen off the sitting room. ‘Tea or coffee?’

‘Coffee, thanks. Black.’ He thumps down onto the sofa and leans forward, his head in his hands. He feels the shift and sway as Martin sits gently next to him.

‘Do we have a problem?’

William’s throat constricts at the we. ‘We do,’ he says, grateful for how Martin never lets him feel alone.

Steve puts the coffee onto the little ebony table carved into the shape of an elephant. ‘I’ve got things to do, I’ll see you later.’

‘Thanks, Steve,’ he says.

After a few light bounds down the stairs, the door opens, closes, and then silence.

‘Who’s he?’ William asks. ‘I hope I didn’t interrupt.’

Martin shrugs. ‘Just a friend, don’t worry about it.’ He shifts in his seat to face William. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’

A weight pushes on his chest. He breathes in, sips the strong filter coffee and puts it back on the table. He stares at the pot plant’s two-toned leaves, vivid against the ebony wood.

‘William?’

His eyes wash warm. ‘I’ve left her.’



‘You can stay for a while, on two conditions.’

Martin has come into his bedroom to open the curtains. William covers his eyes as light slices his pillow. He’s obviously slept all night, but as he remembers where he is and why, William feels bone-tired.

‘Thanks. What are they?’

‘You help me with the choir.’ Martin pulls the sash window down an inch and leans against it, arms folded.

‘I’m sorry, Martin.’ He shakes his head. ‘Anything else, just not that.’

‘I could do with the help and there isn’t anything else.’ He has a hint of a smile on his face.

William can’t help but smile back. ‘I don’t have much choice then, do I?’

Martin steps towards the bed and pats William’s leg. ‘Marvellous! OK. I’m off to work. Today’s task is to type up the words for the new songs we’re working on this week. Scores are on the table, next to the typewriter. Then go to the reprographics department at college – one good thing about working in the library – say I sent you, and get twenty copies.’

‘Can I do it tomorrow?’

‘I’ve got other things for you to do tomorrow.’

William closes his eyes again.

‘Problem?’

With his eyes still closed, he says, ‘I’d hoped I could just rest for a while.’

‘I came back to Cambridge in a similar state, but at least I had the gumption to know what I needed. Nourishment.’

William opens his eyes to see Martin moving back towards the window.

‘OK, I’ll try.’

‘Can’t ask more than that, can I?’ Martin pulls the window down a few more inches. A wave of air cools the room as he walks to the door. ‘Oh!’ He leans his head back in. ‘The second condition.’

‘Yep?’

‘When I come back tonight, you tell me what’s going on. You clearly weren’t up to talking yesterday, but if you’re staying, I deserve an explanation.’ He disappears before William can answer.

‘Martin?’ William calls out.

‘Yes?’ he replies from the landing.

‘Is Steve living here?’