‘I just wanna do it by the book,’ said Norm suddenly, as if taking up a conversation they’d started, although Fraser couldn’t remember exactly what that conversation was.
‘I just want to get a six-pack – if six-pack is what Liv said, do you know what I mean? I wanna do it properly. To make her proud.’
Fraser found himself rolling his eyes again. Norm and Liv always got on brilliantly. They had a bond over music – the type of music he himelf didn’t care for – and a silly, almost surreal sense of humour (for example, they both thought
Shooting Stars
was the funniest thing on TV, while he couldn’t stand Vic Reeves). It had never bothered him before but now he felt a little … what was it? Jealous? Threatened? That was ridiculous.
Fraser paused. ‘Sure,’ he said, ‘although let’s be honest: we both knew Liv and know the chances she’d ever have actually got a six-pack are slim. This is the girl who paid five hundred quid to join a gym, then went once in eighteen months and dropped a dumbbell on her foot.’
Norm burst out laughing. ‘Oh, God, I remember that. That was classic. She broke three toes, didn’t she? Had to wear that stupid fucking support shoe for weeks – in fact, she came to our wedding in it, remember?’
Fraser did. He remembered everything. He remembered the very morning of Melody and Norm’s wedding in Godalming – a belter of a July day. Liv standing in front of the mirror in their B&B, in the pretty summer dress she’d bought, a flip-flop on one foot, the humongus yeti shoe on the other, and almost crying and yet laughing at the same time.
But he didn’t say anything; he could feel that familiar tightness in his stomach again – anxiety – like he’d eaten a huge meal he couldn’t digest.
‘Anyway, I’m just grateful,’ said Norm. They were on the last uphill trek before the descent home and Norm was struggling to speak and run at the same time. ‘I’m just grateful for the List – well, to Liv, truth be told, ’coz let’s face it, me and Livs were similar in that way: a pair of lazy bastards when it came to exercise and I don’t think I’d ever have got my act together and got fit and rid of this gut if it wasn’t for her, d’you know what I’m saying?’
He looked across at Fraser, Fraser kept running.
‘And exercise just makes you feel so much better, doesn’t it? So much more alive. God, it makes you feel alive.’
They’d started their descent now, their feet slapping the ground.
Fraser looked skyward for the umpteenth time that weekend. Norm was often like this – evangelical. He was the same when he ‘found’ golf, when he moved from London to Lancaster (‘No sirens, Fraser, NO SIRENS. It’s fucking Paradise!’) and now Project Six-Pack, the List. Fraser felt irritated and suffocated and he didn’t really understand why. It was his girlfriend who wrote the List. Shouldn’t he be at the helm of it all? Raring to go? But it was just bringing everything back. Liv’s voice in his head, her writing on the page, a life suspended.
The Kiss.
Fraser took a sharp intake of breath.
‘Hey, I was thinking, you know, too,’ said Norm. They had stopped running and were walking towards the exit now and Fraser could hear the birds, the faint cry of children playing, and something else, he wished he could stop. ‘I wanted to talk to you about it this weekend. How do you fancy us doing the biggie on the List? Going to China and doing the Great Wall? We could go this autumn, if we got our act together. I’ve got time I could take off from work.’
‘Can’t afford it, mate,’ said Fraser, flatly. Best nip this in the bud, he thought; change the subject as quickly as possible. Maybe they should pop into the Bull on the way home and go and see Karen? She’d just be starting her shift now and Karen was very good at talking to new people, even if they didn’t always talk back. It was getting a bit intense just the two of them and she would be a good distraction. She would give Norm her ‘How to pull the perfect pint of Guinness’ talk, that would kill an hour …
But again, Norm was persistent. ‘Now, I knew you were going to say that.’ He put an arm around his friend. ‘But Norm’s got a bit of spare cash. Mum and Dad cashed in some shares and me and my sister got a couple of grand. It wouldn’t pay for everything, but I could pay for the flights …’
‘I don’t know,’ said Fraser.
They stopped now – Fraser was bent over his knees, wheezing like an old man, whilst Norm poured an entire bottle of water over his head, a gesture Fraser couldn’t help but think was a bit OTT: they’d had a jog around the Heath, not finished the London Marathon. But then Norm was a pro these days, dedicated to his cause: a man on a mission for the six-pack Fraser’s girlfriend had apparently dreamt of. It suddenly all seemed a bit sycophantic to Fraser.
‘Oh, come on, Frase, it’d be awesome! Just me and you and one of the Wonders of the World. We could do a whistle-stop tour … I’m thinking Beijing, Shanghai, gadding about rice paddies wearing one of those cone hats. Mr Wu’s all-you-can-eat Chinese buffets every single day …’
Mr Wu’s all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet had been the height of sophistication at one point in their lives, when they were skint and all living in London.
‘… Liv would so approve.’
Norm’s hair was flat to his head now, making him look ridiculous, and Fraser started to laugh.
‘See, what’s not to like?’ Norm grinned, encouraged, and arranged his hair in an even more ridiculous combover. ‘Do you know what I mean?’
After showering and a disgusting egg-white omelette that Norm made them eat, Fraser took Norm down to the Bull after all. He was going to make his best mate have a pint with him if it killed him, and he wanted him to meet Karen – Norm was always so positive and so unjudgemental and it would make him feel better and calmer about things if Norm approved.
There were only about four other people in the pub and Karen was kneeling on the floor, writing the lunchtime menu on a blackboard, her colossal breasts hovering over another very low-cut top. Karen was one of those women who was in love with her breasts, for whom her breasts were a boulder against which the waves of life could crash and she would be protected.
Fraser stood looking at them for a few seconds before coughing to get her attention.
‘Karen? This is my mate, Norm. Norm, this is Karen.’
‘Oh!’ Fraser made Karen jump – she hadn’t seen them come in the door; she was now in the bizarre position of kneeling at two men’s feet.
‘I’m so sorry – you must have been able to see right down my top!’
Norm splayed his hands. ‘Hey, don’t be sorry …’ Fraser flashed him a look and Karen stood up.
‘Sorry, that came out all wrong, didn’t it?’ He laughed, and Karen laughed too, somewhat over-zealously, Fraser thought. ‘Oh, I think Norm and I are going to get along,’ she said.
And, as Fraser had predicted, given they were two of the most appeasing people he had ever met in his life, Norm and Karen did get on, like a house on fire – which was fine by him. Karen gave Norm the ‘How to pull the perfect pint of Guinness’ talk before moving on to a tour of the pub (Fraser had had that already) and the cellar, and a full rundown of what it was like to work for a
pub – delivery day, changing the barrels, the ethos of a
giant of a brewery. Fraser sat at the bar, the June sunshine flooding in through the window, warming his back, and he watched his girlfriend talk animatedly, eyes aglow with a sense of purpose.
This was something he loved – perhaps loved was the wrong word, but admired about Karen – the fact she took such pride in her work, no matter that, essentially, she was a barmaid (‘I’m a bartender, Fraser. Barmaid is demeaning to a woman
…’). How he wished he could muster some pride for his work, too, but so far in life, work had just been something he’d fallen into, that kept him out of trouble during the daytime. Fraser had never been a career man by any stretch of the imagination, but at least he used to have dreams, vague intentions of getting off his backside and ‘making his mark’ – whatever the fuck that meant. Now, work was drying up, but maybe that was because he was turning it down. In the past month, he’d been offered a gig with
London Tonight
, a prime-ministerial tour of Kenya and two weeks filming polar bears in the Arctic for quite a prestigious production company, but he didn’t want to go away, he just didn’t have the drive any more
.
‘So, Karen, your boyfriend and I are going to go to China together.’ Norm patted Fraser on the shoulder and he suddenly sat up.
‘We are going to walk the Great Wall of China, no less. Me and Morgan on the path of the Gods!’
‘Are you now?’ said Karen, looking at Fraser, her smile slipping.
‘Are we now?’ said Fraser, looking at Norm.
‘Yeah – ’coz I’m going to pay for it,’ he said, banging his fist on the bar, ‘and it’s going to be awesome, I’m telling you, Karen. It’s gonna put a smile on that miserable mug of his.’ He got Fraser by the cheeks and Fraser played along, giving his best false grin. ‘Beijing, Shanghai, the Great Wall …’
Karen wasn’t saying anything and Fraser knew this wasn’t really the reaction Norm would have been hoping for.
‘We’ll only be three weeks,’ he added, possibly when he realized this wasn’t going down too well. ‘Do you reckon you can live without him for that long? I mean, I know I’d struggle, him being so devilishly handsome and all …’
Norm was stammering now and laughing, nervously.
Karen looked at Fraser, mouth open. ‘Well, I don’t know,’ she said, with a shaky smile. ‘I mean, yes, I mean, I’m sure … but, well, what’s brought this on? He’s never mentioned anything about China to me.’
Under duress, Norm had sunk a pint of Guinness, which, for a man in his honed and pure condition, had clearly gone straight to his head.
‘It’s one of the things on the List, you know, on Liv’s—’
Fraser could feel his heart thumping. ‘Norm and I have a mental list,’ he said just in the nick of time. ‘A list of things we’ve always wanted to do, since we were kids, you know, haven’t we, Norm?’
‘Uh …?’ Norm turned to Fraser, his face all screwed up, and Fraser kicked him under the bar. It was a childish thing to do but circumstances called for it.
‘But anyway, I don’t think I’ll be going to China.’
Karen stood back. ‘Oh, no, but you must, hun,’ she said, and she reached out and touched his hand, her nails, newly dolphin-painted, briefly scratching his skin. ‘He must, Norm. You must take him. I know how long you two boys have been friends and you don’t find mates like that every day, or ever in your life if you’re me, actually!’ She laughed, and Fraser briefly closed his eyes. She had a knack for this, for breaking his heart in one line, whilst being completely unaware of it.
The pub filled up and Norm and Fraser went to sit down, Fraser with another pint of full-strength lager and Norm with a J20.
‘What the fuck was all that about?’ hissed Norm
‘She doesn’t know about the List, does she, dumb-ass? I haven’t told her about the List.’
Norm looked alarmed.
‘But she knows about Liv, right?’
‘Course she knows about Liv.’
‘So why haven’t you told her about the List?’
Fraser was getting irritated now. Norm was acting like the List was some sort of religious guide, or political manifesto, like everyone in the world should be aware of its power and importance.
He leant forward for extra emphasis. ‘Because she’s my girlfriend, Norm, you moron, so perhaps she wouldn’t be too enthusiastic about me carrying out the wishes of my other, dead girlfriend, you know what I mean?’
Norm looked at his drink. At last! Perhaps he got it.
‘But why don’t you want to come to China?’ (Or perhaps not.) ‘It’s what Liv would have wanted. Imagine her, looking down on us, as we walked on one of the Wonders of the World. She’d be so chuffed, man. So chuffed we did it for
her
…’
Fraser rubbed his head; he felt suddenly exhausted, the knot of anxiety becoming ever tighter.
‘Look, Norm. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t have that good a time in Vegas.’
‘I know, mate, I was the one who practically rocked you to sleep, remember?’
‘And I’m not sure doing this List business is really doing me much good.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, it brings it all back, doesn’t it? That I should have done more …’
‘Now come on,’ said Norm. ‘We don’t want any silly business. We don’t want you going down that road again.’
Fraser couldn’t help himself. ‘But I wasn’t there, Norm.’
‘Course you weren’t. We were having a party, you idiot. None of us were there on that balcony that night.’
‘But I was her boyfriend. I should have protected her.’
‘How did you know she was going to wander out on a balcony, drunk? How the fuck were you to know that? You can’t know what’s going on in someone’s head, Fraser. Believe me, I know.’
They moved onto something else. Fraser was eager not to let the mood slip, as it had so disastrously in Vegas, and suspected Norm felt the same. They stayed in the pub until the light faded and their shadows were long on the stripped wooden floor.
It had been another gorgeous day, but a storm was threatening now, the air was warm and soupy, and as they walked across the heath, towards Fraser’s flat, the grass was a striking, vivid green against the darkness of the clouds.
‘Karen’s a great girl,’ said Norm. ‘I thought she was sound.’
‘Really?’ said Fraser, encouraged. ‘You think so? You don’t think—’
‘What?’
‘I dunno, that it’s too soon?’
Although, if he were honest, the matter still occupied his every waking thought. In the last fortnight or so, Fraser had begun to come to terms with the idea of Karen as a steadier presence in his life, even if it was so he didn’t have to think about other things. Las Vegas had unsteadied him, deeply. He felt he was walking a tightrope between sanity and unsanity and Karen with her eBay and her rubbish love gifts and her minced-beef dinners was a welcome breath of normality that he was holding onto for dear life. She’d started to plan things way ahead – and that worried him – but, if he were honest, without her, he knew there’d be a big vacuum in his head, that would inevitably be filled with demons and truths he could do without.