The Train by Sarah Bourne (fiction books to read txt) 📕

He thought for a moment. What did he want out of his life? He had a job he loved and was comfortable financially but his relationships seemed to have started unravelling. He and his father had had a stand-off and more or less said they never wanted to see each other again, he’d had little to do with his sister in years, and he’d almost had sex with a man who wasn’t Russell.

‘I suppose so.’ He looked away, wanting to halt the conversation. It was another half hour until they got to Milton Keynes and he didn’t want to bare his soul to this stranger, nor hear the other man’s story. He needed to try and understand his reluctance to go home, and decide what he was going to say to Russell. And to work out if the two were related. Fortunately, Trevor got the hint and sat back to read his paper.

By the time they pulled into the station, Ray was ready.

‘Bye,’ he said to Trevor, who was also leaving the train. He felt he should say more, but nothing came.

‘Take care,’ said Trevor. ‘Hope tomorrow’s a better day for you.’

Ray smiled tightly. ‘You too.’ He stepped onto the platform and walked away quickly.

The lights were on in the flat and even before he opened the front door, Ray heard Russell’s voice. Dismayed there might be someone else there, he stopped to listen. There was a pause and Russell’s voice again, more urgent now. Ray couldn’t make out the words but he knew the tone well; Russell was worried. And given that his was the only voice Ray could hear, he must be on the phone. Ray put his key in the lock.

Before he could turn it the door opened and there was Russell, eyes wide.

‘Where have you been?’

Ray felt the wave of accusation sweep towards him. He was the cause of Russell’s anxiety and Russell didn’t like feeling worried. He took a step backwards and knocked into the plant pot outside their door; the peace lily shook.

Russell always became angry the minute his anxiety was laid to rest. He was like a child whose mother had left the room and wouldn’t talk to her when she came back because of the fear she’d caused him. I don’t want to be his mother, thought Ray. I want us to be equals. He looked Russell in the eye.

‘I’ve been in London. I didn’t think you’d be interested. So I didn’t tell you.’ Who was being the child now? Ray felt like stamping his feet with the unfairness of it. And suddenly it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He was too tired to have the argument he felt was coming, too tired even to tell Russell what had happened. He wanted to lie down.

‘Oh, Ray – that’s not fair. I do want to know, I just…’ Russell stood with his arms by his sides.

‘Why don’t you let me come in,’ said Ray, and Russell stood aside for him, then followed him through to the living room. Ray dropped his bag, shucked off his jacket and sagged onto the sofa.

‘Why didn’t you call?’ asked Russell, hands on his boyish hips. Even now, Ray noticed those hips.

‘My phone ran out of steam.’ This was how they spoke, assigning old-world language to new technology. Suddenly it seemed juvenile. Once it had been fresh, amusing. Now it felt hackneyed.

‘I was worried. I called Mike to see if he’d heard from you. He said he hadn’t spoken to you for weeks. What’s going on – he’s your best friend?’

Ray closed his eyes and leant back into the soft cushions. He wanted to answer Russell but no words came. How to tell him that Mike and he had had a fight when Ray had accused Mike of coming on to Russell and he hadn’t denied it. His best friend had been trying to seduce his partner?

‘Ray – what the fuck is going on? You’re so bloody secretive, and when you do say anything it’s always negative these days.’

Ray took a deep breath, thinking about Russell’s words. He couldn’t deny them but why had he chosen those things to accuse him of when there were so many things he could have said. Positive things, like ‘thank you for protecting me from your cancer’, or ‘I appreciate all the little things you do for me’, or even, ‘I’m grateful you ask so little of me’. He bit his lip for a moment and opened his eyes again.

‘Why do you say these things?’

‘Because they’re the truth.’

Ray gazed into Russell’s eyes. ‘But you know lots of things that are true and don’t say them. Why these things?’

There was a pause. Ray and Russell stood on opposite edges of it, staring in.

‘Because–’

‘They hurt me. You hurt me. Is that what you want?’

‘No… Maybe.’ Russell threw his hands in the air and shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’ He moved to the window, looking out over the rooftops, his back to Ray. ‘I want us to be okay. I want us to love each other like we did before–’

Ray heard the words but they sounded so rehearsed he couldn’t believe them. Or maybe he didn’t want to believe them. Did he want to go back to how it had been before? Or did he want more? He’d always felt he was the lucky one having Russell in his life, so he’d been the housewife, doing the chores and the looking after.

‘Before what – the cancer? There, I said it. Now go and have your panic attack.’

Russell turned to him looking like he’d been slapped.

‘That was low. I know what you did today.’

Ray blanched. He knew Russell must be talking about his appointment, that he’d put two and two together when Ray told him he’d been in London but his guilt made him wonder what else he knew. Surely he couldn’t possibly know about Aidan? Ray took a deep breath.

‘I need a drink,’