The air always felt different when she was around. Lighter, somehow. Although today it was anything but. She was usually so much fun, so friendly and bubbly. He’d never seen this side of her before, and he wasn’t sure he liked it much.
Russell knew he was no angel, but he always tried to do the right thing — even if it meant failing more often than not. Of course, everyone had their weaknesses…
He could tell she was upset about something. It was clearly something he’d done, too. Surely she hadn’t found out about… No, there was no way. He’d been careful. In any case, what worried him most was the silence. There was never silence when she was around. There were giggles and infectious laughter. That, amongst other things, was what appealed most about her. But today she just sat there, staring at the television, in a world of her own. It wasn’t like her. In a way, it would’ve scared him less if she’d gone off on a rant or at least vented what was on her mind. But she was silent. And he didn’t like it.
He asks her if something’s wrong.
She tells him she’s fine.
He says she doesn’t look fine.
She asks him what that’s meant to mean.
He says it wasn’t meant to mean anything. He’s just worried about her. She doesn’t seem herself.
She makes a comment. He doesn’t hear it properly, but he doesn’t ask her to repeat it. He’s pretty sure it wasn’t something he wanted to hear anyway.
He tells her he’s had enough of this. He’s off for a piss. He stands and walks towards the stairs.
She doesn’t like this.
He hears her pacing across the wooden floor towards him.
She explodes. She tells him she knows what he’s been up to. She knows he’s been shagging someone else.
He tells her that’s ridiculous. Of course he hasn’t. He’s halfway up the stairs.
She’s at the bottom. She says she’s got proof. Her friend saw him kissing someone outside Ford’s.
He tells her he’s never heard anything so stupid in all his life. If he was going to play around, he wouldn’t do it in the middle of Oakham town centre, would he? He tells her she needs to listen to herself.
She starts to head up the stairs, tells him to man up and admit it. Layla doesn’t lie. She wouldn’t do that. She’s her best friend. She knows what she saw.
He points out that Layla never liked him anyway. Of course she’s making things up to try and cause problems. She knows what Layla’s like.
She says yes, she does. And she knows she can trust her. Just like she knows he’s lying through his arse and he’s a cheating scumbag.
He tells her to piss off out of his house if she doesn’t like it.
She’s at the top of the stairs. She tells him to look her in the eyes and tell her he hasn’t been cheating.
He looks at her and scoffs. He tells her she’s mental and he wants her to leave.
She says she’s not going anywhere until she hears the truth.
He steps into the bathroom and tries to close the door.
She stands in the doorway, pushing against it.
There’s a scuffle. He pushes her arm. She pushes back.
She kicks the door.
He yanks it fully open and tells her to piss off home.
She says she’s not going anywhere. He’s lying and she’s going to prove it. She heads for his bedroom.
As she crosses the top of the stairs, he marches towards her, trying to stop her. He puts his hand on her arm.
She spins round, her fist connecting with the side of his head.
For a brief moment, their eyes meet. Before he realises what’s happening, there’s the briefest taste of blood — an irony tang — before he feels himself falling.