Life and Soul of the Party (25 page)

‘You should go.’

Paul got dressed in the dark. As he stood by the door I sensed that he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally he moved towards the bed as though he were about to kiss me goodbye but he stopped, turned and left the room.

‘I didn’t know,’ was all I could manage to say when Melissa finished telling me about her last night with Paul.

‘No one knew,’ Melissa replied. ‘I didn’t dare tell a soul.’ She started to cry again. ‘I feel so guilty, Chris. Really guilty. I didn’t mean it to happen. I just wanted one last goodbye. I didn’t think for a second it would end up like this.’ She sobbed even harder, hiding her face in her hands.

‘You and Paul . . . well, you had a connection, didn’t you?’ I said trying to calm her down. ‘And . . . well, like you say it didn’t give you a chance to say goodbye.’

‘But that doesn’t make it right, does it? Hannah’s carrying Paul’s kid. I slept with Paul knowing full well what I was doing. What kind of person does that make me?’

I thought about my own recent mistakes: all the lies and deceit I’d perpetuated just to be with Polly. ‘It makes you a human being like the rest of us. Nothing more, nothing less. Just human.’

Melissa looked up at me. ‘But that doesn’t make it right though, does it?’ she said quietly. ‘Being human is just the kind of excuse that used to trip off the tip of Paul’s tongue whenever he got himself into a tight corner. Well, do you know what? That kind of excuse didn’t work for him so I don’t see why it should work for me either. Sometimes you can’t hide behind excuses. Sometimes you just have to own up to what you’ve done and accept the consequences.’

With that she started crying again and I pulled her closer to me and listened to the sound of her heart breaking and I realised that she was absolutely right. Sometime you did have to own up to the things you’ve done. Sometimes the only thing you could do is tell the truth and accept the consequences of your actions.

The clicking heels of the two girls in search of seats were getting closer and closer. I made one last scan of the church and saw Chris and Melissa making their way up the central aisle. The sense of relief was overwhelming and I wondered what Chris had said to persuade Melissa to come into the church. As they sat down Chris saw his friend Tony sitting with Polly and Chris’s face became ashen, as though he was about to be sick.

The vicar opened the service with the hymn ‘He Who Would Valiant Be’ which reminded me of my youth — secondary school assemblies on cold, wet Monday mornings. Standing next to my friends. Sharing a hymn book – one between two. Refusing to sing because you’re fourteen and what’s the point? But secretly mouthing the words anyway because you’re not that much of a rebel that you’re prepared to get told off for refusing to join in. How could I not have joined in with words as comforting as
‘Since, Lord, Thou dost defend us with Thy Spirit, We know we at the end, shall life inherit’?
Sung in unison with the whole room grieving as one it sounded plausible. Like the truth or something near it. And I wished that I believed in the words that I sang. I wished there really was something that carried on once this life was all over, because the thought that this might be it – that one day I might say goodbye to William and Chris as I left to go to the supermarket, or to Mum’s or out to get my hair cut and never see either of them again because of something as random and as pointless as a car crash – terrified me. If this was it, if this life was all you got with no second chance to be with the people who mean the most to you, then the only alternative was to cling on to William and Chris with all my strength. Cling on and never let go.

As the hymn came to a close the church fell silent and I turned to look at Chris. His eyes were closed and his breathing was deep and jagged. It must all be getting too much for him.

‘Don’t worry, sweetheart, everything’s going to be all right,’ I whispered, taking his hand in mine.

He didn’t speak. But his hands were shaking and he was rocking backwards and forwards just like that time in the car. And just like before he let out a groan from deep inside his chest, pulled his hands away from me and furiously rained down a cavalcade of blows against the top of his skull as though he were trying to smash his own brains out. Everyone in the vicinity watched on in bewilderment as Cooper, Melissa and I tried calm him down. He was crying now. Awful, uncontrollable sobs that wracked his entire body. We managed to get him out of the church and I persuaded the others to go back inside. I said I would look after him. When we were alone I knelt at his feet, put my arms around his legs and held on tight. Chris took his hands away from his face and fixed me with a grief-ridden stare. ‘I don’t know how to say this,’ he began. ‘You know I love you, don’t you? You, William and the baby. You’re my life.’ He stopped to wipe away the tears that were trickling down his face. ‘It kills me to know what I’ve done. It kills me in a way I can’t even tell you.’ He bent down to pull me closer to him. I didn’t resist because in an odd kind of way that I can’t even begin to explain I knew exactly what was coming next.

After the first hymn the vicar said a prayer which was followed by a reading – a passage from 1 Corinthians chapter 5. I didn’t really listen to any of it though. My mind was elsewhere, wondering if my brother was okay.

I’d never seen Chris like that before. As kids it had always been me who had been the emotional one while Chris gave the impression of being totally in control. While I had moped around in my bedroom contemplating why yet again my advances towards some unsuspecting girl had been rejected, Chris had a queue of girls desperate to go out with him. Outside the world of girls Chris always came over more confident and assured: applying for jobs for which he was way under-qualified but getting them after winning over the interview panel with his charm; talking to strangers at parties and turning them into friends who last a lifetime; and when Dad died of a heart attack it had been me and Mum who had fallen apart while Chris had held it together – contacting everyone who needed to know, making all the arrangements so that neither Mum nor I had to do a thing. So I’d always assumed that Chris was different. That he didn’t feel the things that normal people felt. That he was almost superhuman. From the evidence of the day so far this was far from true. Chris was just an ordinary person who thought he had perfected the art of suppressing his emotions only to be proven wrong by time and circumstance. He was just a guy who had lost his best friend in the most terrible way and today the hurt had been too much for him to bear.

‘I’m going to check on Chris and Vicky,’ I whispered to Naomi as the vicar closed his bible and announced to the congregation that we would all be singing another hymn. ‘You know, make sure they’re all right.’

‘Couldn’t do any harm,’ whispered Naomi. ‘I don’t think he’ll be in any condition to give the eulogy though, do you?’

I shrugged. I looked at the order of service in my hand. After the hymn the Vicar was going to say some introductory words then it was the eulogy. ‘I’d better go. I haven’t got much time if this whole thing isn’t going to turn into a disaster.’

‘It won’t be a disaster,’ said Naomi. ‘I’ll come with you and help make sure everything’s okay.’

The congregation rose as the organist began playing the opening notes of ‘Abide With Me’, and we made our way to the back of the church. Everyone stared at us curious about our involvement in the earlier commotion. I did my best to keep my eyes fixed on the doors at the back.

Chris and Vicky were nowhere to be seen. I was about to check the toilets when I heard the sound of raised voices and looked through the glass doors of the church to see Chris and Vicky apparently having a violent row. A tearful Vicky was yelling at Chris to let her go while Chris was desperately clinging on to her. Over and over again he kept begging her not to go. Over and over he kept telling her that he was sorry. And while I knew that my brother would never hurt Vicky, the scene was no less disturbing especially given that she was pregnant. I stepped outside and yelled at Chris.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Just go back inside. Coop,’ he yelled. ‘This has nothing to do with you. We’re fine. Leave us alone, okay.’

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ I took a few steps closer. ‘Whatever’s going on there’s got to be a better way than this to solve it.’

‘You don’t understand,’ said Chris, real desperation in his voice. ‘I’ve made a mess of everything. Coop. Everything. All I want is for her to listen. All I want is for us to talk.’

‘So that you can tell me more lies?’ spat Vicky. ‘He’s been cheating on me. Cooper. Cheating on me while I was at home looking after our child. And with Tony Palmer’s girlfriend of all people. See that? He hasn’t got a loyal bone in his body. He cheats on me, he cheats on his friends. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he’s cheated on you too some time in the past.’ She turned to face Chris. ‘You’re not worthy of being a father, a friend or even a brother. You’re the lowest of the low and I hope everyone learns the truth about you.’

I’d never seen Chris look so cowed. Time felt as though it was standing still. No cars drove past. No people appeared. Naomi, Chris, Vicky and I stood frozen in time. There was silence except for the faint sound of singing from inside the church.

‘I never want to see you again,’ said Vicky wrenching her arms from his grip. ‘I don’t want to look at you. I don’t want to talk to you ever again.’

‘You don’t mean that.’

‘You don’t know me if you think that I don’t mean what I’m saying. You don’t know me at all.’ She held out her hand. ‘Give me the car keys now or you will regret it more than you’ve regretted anything in your life.’ Chris held out the car keys and Vicky snatched them from his open hand. ‘This is your best friend’s funeral, and you turn it into a mockery.’

‘I just want the chance to make things right.’

‘I don’t care what you want,’ said Vicky. ‘Your wants. Your needs. They don’t register with me any more. If you need anything at all from now on talk to a solicitor because I know I will be.’

Vicky walked away but Chris quickly caught up with her. ‘What about you and the baby? What about William? I need to see him.’ Vicky wrenched herself free again.

I decided that this had gone on long enough and grabbed my brother before he could catch up with her. Chris was taller and three years older than me and the last time we had fought had been the best part of twenty years ago. I’d barely got a single blow in before Chris had tackled me to the ground and punched me so hard in the face that my nose bled. I would have ended up with much worse had Dad not come home early from work and heard the commotion. Belting both of us around the head he managed to separate us before too much damage was done. Still, it was weeks before Chris would even sit in the same room as me and months before we exchanged a single word.

But that was then.

I’d filled out since my teenage years. I was taller, broader and stockier than he had been in his youth. If it came to blows now I was in no doubt which one of us would come off worse.

‘Let her go. I mean it, Chris. Just let her go.’

I could see the dilemma play out across Chris’s features. The loss of face in backing down to me, his desperate need to keep hold of Vicky, the desire to not have the whole situation spiral out of control.

‘Just let her go, Chris,’ I spoke, more forcefully this time. ‘What if she falls? You’d never forgive yourself. So let her go while you have the chance.’

For a moment I was afraid that I was going to have to hit him but then he stepped away from us both.

‘You’re right, I shouldn’t be like this. I’m sorry.’

He sounded defeated. As if he had nothing left to live for. Naomi put her arm round Vicky.

‘Are you okay?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ she replied. ‘Things just got out of hand.’

I was unsure what to do next. I looked to Chris in the hope that he might offer some guidance but there was none. It was up to me.

‘Go home, Chris. Go home before you make things worse than they already are.’

The hymn was coming to a close when I spotted Cooper and Naomi returning to the hall. I looked around for Chris as he was supposed to be giving the eulogy but I couldn’t see him anywhere. As Cooper and Naomi took their seats the vicar announced that he was now going to call on Mr Chris Cooper to come forward and share a few thoughts on behalf of all Paul’s friends and family. Cooper stood up and made his way to the microphone at the front of the church, seemingly unaware of the murmurs of disquiet around him.

‘Hi,’ he began. ‘I’m not Chris Cooper. I’m Chris Cooper’s kid brother, Jamie. People don’t call me Jamie though. They call me Cooper. I don’t know why. I’m standing here today because my brother can’t be here. I think the truth of the matter is that it got too much for him to handle. You see, Chris loved Paul like a brother. And as his actual brother I know exactly what that kind of love feels like and believe me I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’m guessing that if it was me who was supposed to be up here talking to a room full of people about how much I missed Chris . . . well, I doubt whether I’d be able to do it either. Sometimes you can be too close. Sometimes it can be a bit too raw. Love is like that. That’s why Paul meant so much to us all. And all of us – his partner Hannah, his mum Eileen, dad John, and brothers Matt and Alex, his extended family back in Telford and the family of friends that he made here in Manchester – we’ll all miss him every single day for the rest of our lives.’ Cooper looked up from the microphone for the first time. ‘Things will never be the same without Paul being here with us and nor should they. We want to miss him. We need to miss him. Because we all know this: the only things you truly miss are those that mean the world to you.’