After lunch, I go back to Noel in the shop to see whether he needs a hand or whether I can go and lie down for a few hours. I was up really late last night, and got up at dawn as usual, but with my shift in the pub and all the chatting… I don’t want to collapse from exhaustion tonight – not when I’ll be seeing him again.
I’ve tried not to think about it for most of the day, but when I saw him in the pub, I felt nervous, euphoric, happy, anxious.
Last night we were together in a way we’ve never been before. And now I feel like I’ve been turned upside-down, confused – but I also feel alive and awake and desperate to be with him again.
“Hey.” Noel greets me quickly, busy putting away the leftovers from today.
“Do you need any help?”
“There are a few sandwiches still left in the cabinet.”
“I’ll take them through to the back.”
I wash my hands and pull on my gloves, moving the sandwiches from the display case to a tray and carrying them through to the back. “How was it today?”
“Calm. It’s Saturday.”
Noel works alone on Saturdays; he closes earlier, at around two, and doesn’t reopen until Monday morning. It gives us both a chance to recharge our batteries. I don’t recharge them much, considering I work at Veldons, but at least on Sundays I don’t have to wake up early for deliveries.
“You can go and have a nap, if you want. I’ll finish up here.”
“I don’t mind staying.”
“You look like you haven’t slept – like you might not make it to this evening.”
“What do you mean…?” I shrug, embarrassed.
“I’m not as naïve as Dad was. I noticed you didn’t come home last night.”
“It’s not what you think.”
I don’t know why I said that. I’m thirty-one years old. I’m an adult, a free man. I don’t have to justify anything I do.
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea – I don’t want anyone to.”
“By ‘anyone’, do you mean Rachel?”
“I don’t know.”
It’s true. I don’t know whether I care what Rachel thinks. Maybe I do a little – but I think that’s normal, right? I mean, we spent years together, shared everything. I don’t want her to think that I came back here just to run into his arms. It’s much more complicated than that.
“She’s gone to stay with her parents,” he says. “She’ll be there for a few days.”
“Okay.”
“Have you at least spoken to her?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re seeing someone.”
“I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Oh, really? Does he know this?”
“I didn’t mean…” I scoff, nervous. “I don’t want to talk to Rachel about him.”
“Why not?”
And now I don’t want to talk about him with Noel, either.
“It doesn’t seem appropriate.”
“Got it…”
“No, you don’t get it,” I say, harder than I’d like and certainly harder than he deserves.
“Okay,” he says, his expression concerned. “Got it: it’s none of my business.” He turns his back to me, his head lowered, his hands resting on the counter.
“It was because of him.”
He lifts his head and looks at me.
I swallow down my anxiety and tell him the truth.
“Our marriage ended because of him.”
After I’ve dropped the bomb, my brother told me he didn’t want to know anything, that it was all private: my relationship with Rachel, the reason we broke up, what’s going on between me and Silas. And he’s right. It is private – but Noel is my family, and I don’t feel like I’ve been honest with him.
I lay down for a few hours, but I was agitated, tossing and turning. By the time I got up, I felt worse than before. I had a shower, got changed, and came downstairs.
Noel is on the sofa watching TV.
“I’m off.”
“Have a good shift.”
“I might… Well… Not be home tonight.”
Noel says nothing, but sits there with his eyes glued to the screen. He’s watching one of his favourite programmes, where they make these incredible cakes. He once told me he’d like to do something like that one day, but then his heart broke, and grief and loneliness consumed him. I don’t know whether he still has that dream in him. Some days, I wonder whether there’s anything at all left of my brother.
“Is that okay with you?”
“Are you asking me permission to sleep somewhere else?”
I sigh, nervous. I can’t ask him whether he’s okay on his own. I don’t want him to realise that I’m worried every time I think of him in this house, alone except for his demons and regrets.
“You don’t need my approval.” Noel turns the TV off and sits up, resting his elbows on his thighs and letting his head drop into his hands. “I have no right to say anything about your life choices.”
“Would you want to?”
He gets to his feet, standing in front of me.
“I just wish you’d be careful.”
I have to ask him. I have to know.
“Are you saying this because he’s a man?”
Noel’s gaze softens.
“I’m saying this because you’re my brother – you’re all I have left, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He pauses – it’s painful but necessary. “I don’t want you to suffer like me.”
“I promise that’s not going to happen.”
He knows I can’t make promises like that, but he smiles at me nonetheless.
“Will you be okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“If I don’t come home… Will you be okay without me?”
“You’re not my carer, Leo. That’s not your job.”
Noel sits back down, but doesn’t turn on the TV. His gaze reaches out in front of him, lost. I’m not sure I can leave him on his own, and I’m not sure it’s not my job to look after him. He’s my brother, and he needs me to be here. He’d do the same for me.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He lets himself fall back against the cushions. “Have a good night.”
I nod then leave the house, not at all convinced of what I’m doing with Silas, or with Noel, or with Rachel. I’m not convinced of anything right now – not even of myself.
When Silas arrives at Veldons, I still haven’t managed to shift my bad mood. Andy has glanced over at me a few times – once when I spilled a drink all over the bar and then again when I broke two glasses, which slipped off the tray I was carrying. He even asked me if something was wrong, and I told him everything was fine. But I think he knows something’s up.
Silas sits at the bar just as I’m arriving with a tray full of empty glasses. I don’t look at him as I walk past, but I head into the back to put down the glasses, ready for the next dishwasher load.
“The reason you’re so jumpy is here,” Andy announces from the doorway which leads to the back room.
I forget about the glasses and turn to him. “It’s not what you think.”
“I don’t think, I know.”
I shake my head nervously.
“I wouldn’t keep him waiting, mate.”
“He didn’t come here for me,” I attempt, but my expression obviously betrays me. Andy smiles at me fraternally, as if he perfectly understood the existential angst surging through me.
“Go,” he says, nodding towards the pub. “Take a break.”
“But it’s full, and…”
“And you still haven’t taken your break, yet.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Andy.”
“No, I don’t owe you anything. But you certainly owe him something.”
“You know nothing about what happened.”
“Believe me, I wish that were true…” Andy leaves and I take a few seconds to gather my thoughts before facing him again: the reason for my every thought, my dreams, my nerves. The reason I’ve found the strength to go on when everything seemed to crumble around me.
I head back into the main room and approach the bar. “Hi.”
“Hey.”
“Sorry about before. I was busy and…”
“It’s fine.”
We’re silent for a moment, before I decide to speak. “I haven’t gone for my break yet. Do you want to get something to eat together?”
“Here?” he asks, his brow folding.
“I don’t care what people think, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure I want to have dinner with you, if you’d like that, too.”
Silas bites his lip in an attempt to mask a smile, but I see it anyway – and it’s beautiful, just like him. I want to keep seeing it.
“I think I saw a table in the corner.”
“What are you waiting for? Lead the way.”