Final Cut(45)

‘What’s happened?’

I glance around the car park. There’s no one here, but still I don’t want to do this in public.

‘Not here. Can we go in?’

‘Sure.’ He takes out his key, glancing back as he unlocks the door to the village hall. He’s grim-faced; he looks worried now, he knows something’s wrong. For a moment I wonder what Tanya didn’t tell me, whether I’m as safe as I think I am.

‘What is it?’

I close the door behind me, wipe my feet on the mat in the lobby. There are toilets off to the left; on the right a door leads to a small kitchen. The whole place smells vaguely: disinfectant and stale coffee.

‘How long have you been here? In Blackwood Bay?’

‘I told you,’ he says quickly as we enter the hall itself. Fluorescents hang from the ceiling and there’s a serving hatch through into the kitchen. At one end sits a small stage. He turns to face me. ‘Almost a year. Why?’

‘I’ve been told you’ve only been here a couple of months.’

He closes his eyes, then nods, slowly. It reminds me of Aidan; it’s what he used to do when I’d caught him out after he’d told me he wasn’t high, he hadn’t had a drink, he was fine. I can’t decide whether it endears him to me or not. ‘By whom?’

‘Liz,’ I say. ‘Why did you lie to me?’

He hesitates. ‘I … well, I wanted to help you. Show you around, you know? Just wanted to be helpful. I’m sorry.’

‘Gavin. I spoke to Tanya.’

He grimaces. It’s almost comical.

‘What?’

‘She told me.’

He runs his hand through his hair. ‘Told you what?’

I’ve decided to take the risk. ‘Everything. She told me what you did.’

His head falls to his chest. He mumbles something I don’t quite catch. It might be Shit. Or Bitch.

‘Gavin?’

He doesn’t answer.

‘If you want me to trust you, you’d better start telling the truth.’

‘It wasn’t my fault.’

What wasn’t? I think. Tell me.

‘That’s not what she said,’ I say instead. ‘Is it true?’

He pushes a chair over towards me. ‘Let’s sit.’

We do so. He faces me. He looks contrite. Disappointed. Angry, too. He begins to pick the skin round his thumbnail, twisting it as he does. It looks painful. Soon he’ll draw blood.

‘I want to hear your side of the story.’

He closes his eyes and draws breath. It’s a gathering of energy, and when he looks back up his eyes are moist. Tears glisten in the harsh light.

‘I was angry. I mean, my boss, of all people. She couldn’t have picked anyone else?’

I look straight at him. An affair? It must be.

‘How long?’

‘She said it’d been a few weeks. But who knows?’

I imagine bolshie Tanya in her corporate suit and her neat blouse. She seems the type, I think, but then I realise what a ridiculous thing that is. The type? Aren’t we all the type, in the right circumstances?

‘So? When you found out …’

‘I didn’t mean it to get … physical.’

I go into fight or flight. It’s not what I expected.

‘You hit her?’

‘Is that what she told you?’

‘What, then?’

‘I hit him.’

I almost laugh with relief. I try to imagine it, try to see him waiting outside for his rival, or perhaps visiting him at home. I try to imagine how it happened. Perhaps he threw a punch, calculated and cold, shaking as he did so, worried about where it would lead but feeling there was no alternative. Or maybe his anger came out of nowhere, clouding everything out. I wonder if he surprised himself, looked down and saw the other man on the floor and only then realised what he was capable of.

‘You hit your boss.’

‘He said he’d ask for the charges to be dropped if I quit. So I didn’t really have a choice.’

Level-headed Gavin won out. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say.

He tries to laugh it off. ‘Looking back, I wanted a change anyway. I just didn’t see it at the time.’

His cheer is clearly false, for my benefit if not his own. But I say nothing. Part of me is relieved; the truth isn’t as bad as I’d feared.

‘Anyway,’ he says wearily. ‘It’s history.’ He looks up. ‘I know who you are, by the way.’

The air rushes out of the room. My vision splits, the image distorts. It’s as though I’m looking at Gavin through a cracked lens.

‘What?’ I wonder briefly whether I can run.

‘You can’t keep secrets here. Not for long … What’s wrong?’

‘What did you hear?’

‘Oh, just that it was your film. How come you told me you were only helping out?’

Relief surges through me again. ‘Oh,’ I say. ‘No reason. It’s just …’

‘Being modest? I read all about you. Didn’t realise you were so famous. Black Winter, wasn’t it?’ He’s clearly been Googling and I’m flattered, despite myself. ‘I haven’t watched it yet.’