Distinction: The Distraction Trilogy #3 (18 page)

“Do you know what annoys me?” I bite out as I unscrew the pipe from under the sink. The scent that travels from it makes me gag.

“Here we go,” my dad sighs.

I ignore him and continue. “Is that every single time I come to see you, you have me fixing shit. What happened to just being able to relax when I visit my old man?” I inspect the clogged drainage pipe before placing it carefully on the ground.

“Shut it you ungrateful trollop,” he jests good-naturedly. “I changed your shitty nappies. I cleaned your poop off my fingers. I…”

“Enough of the visual. Christ.”

“Speaking of which, am I ever going to get a grandkid before I die?”

“That’s not funny.” I frown and pull myself out from under the sink.

“It isn’t, you’re right. You’ll find someone when you’re ready.”

“I had someone,” I say without thinking and quickly hide back under the sink.

“I wish I could go back in time and take back everything I said to her. Maybe then you two would have been able to work stuff out.”

I don’t respond. I’m sick of talking about it, thinking about it, dreaming about it. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m taking a date to the wedding.”

“It doesn’t, surprisingly. How will Elle take it?”

I stamp down my anger at this. Why does he care what she thinks? Why not what I think or feel? She’s moved on so why can’t I? “She’s fine with it. We spoke about it already.”

“Good.”

Again I keep my mouth shut.

“I’ll make tea,” my dad says as I use a narrow, long brush to clean out the pipes.

“Don’t you fucking…!” Water starts gushing over my face before I can stop it.

“Oops…”

“You’re an idiot,” I tell him as I climb from under the sink, dripping wet. My nose and eyes sting from the water. “Honestly… what is wrong with you?”

“I wasn’t thinking?” He bites on his lip, mostly to stifle his laughter. This isn’t funny. “Sorry.”

Growling, I tug my shirt over my head before wiping my face on the dry bottom half of it. “I need to clean that part of the pipe. Don’t touch anything.”

My dad imitates the face of a told off toddler and sits on the stool by the fridge. He watches me work and remains silent for the most part, although I catch him smiling on occasion, no doubt over the water incident.

I really need a shower.

“I wish you’d speak to us,” my mum says to my voicemail before hanging up the phone.

I daren’t talk to her in case she was in on it with my dad too. I’ll never move on from that. I just don’t want to address it right now. Or ever.

I don’t know. I feel like this could be the one thing that irreparably damages our relationship and their relationship.

That scares me.

I place my phone on the side and stare at it for the longest moment.

“Here it is!” John says, startling me. “Sorry.”

I turn to face him and smile softly when I see the book in his hands. “And I absolutely have to read it?”

“Promise me you will. It’s a wonderful book.”

“Okay.” I look at the white cover and trace the letters of the title with my fingertips. They’re slightly raised and bumpy on the hardback cover surface. “Distinction… by R. Green. Never heard of him… or her.”

“Just read it.”

I quirk a brow at him. “Okay, okay. Mr Bossy. Are you ready to go?”

“I am.” He grins and pats his rounding belly. “Are you?”

“No…” Eye roll. “That’s why I’m not here early to collect you.”

“Attitude,” he snaps playfully and grabs his bag from the hallway. “I’m actually really looking forward to this.”

“Me too.”

To the show we go.

For John’s birthday I bought him two tickets to go and see a new show called Mud Pie. It’s on tonight in the University theatre. I actually expected him to take Isaac but he said he’d like to go with me instead. Who am I to deny a man such a request?

This means that he’ll have to stay at mine for the night, though. I don’t mind; I just hope Kira keeps to her promise and doesn’t invite anyone over.

This will be the first time John has ever visited, much less stayed over. It’s a little odd and I won’t deny the fact that I’m a bit nervous. He used to be my head teacher and that alone makes this strange, which is funny considering I was married to his son and I’ve stayed at his house before.

I’m over thinking things.

We are going to have a great night and a great day tomorrow. I’m his friend, despite everything. Despite the separation.

“Hayley called yesterday. It has been a while since I heard from her,” John tells me after we pull out of his driveway and begin the journey to Cambridge.

“That’s good.” Even though I separated myself from Isaac and John, I always made sure Hayley visited him at least once a month, just in case he needed any help with anything. She’s a good friend like that. I don’t know what I’d do without her. “What did she want?”

“To make sure I have a suit for her wedding. Apparently her other half gets discount in a nice place in London. They extended the offer to me.”

“That’s so kind of them.”

“It is, but Isaac already took me for a new suit last week.”

I smile. Isaac really does seem to have changed, especially when it comes to his parents. I remember when we were together they always seemed to have such a tense relationship. Isaac was always distancing himself, but now they all seem so close like they should be.

I was like that with my parents. I hate my dad for it.

“Did Isaac tell you what my dad did?” I don’t know why I say this out loud. I don’t even want to talk about it.

“He did.”

I nod and chew on my lip. I literally don’t have a clue what to say next. My mind is blank.

“Are you okay?”

I shake my head.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shake again. I feel displaced.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready.” He pats my hand on the console and I see him smile warmly out of the corner of my eye. “And if you want me to crack him one, just say the word.”

Now I’m smiling. “My family are so messed up. It makes me wish I had siblings. They’d understand, you know?”

“I know, but now you know what it’s like to be an only child, make sure you have at least three.”

“Three what?”

He blinks at me as if I’m stupid. “Kids. Obviously.”

“Oh, no way. I’m not having them.” I laugh.

“You’ll probably change your mind.”

Not likely. “Sure.”

“What about you and this Silas character? How are you both?”

I hesitate. Big mistake. He spots it and his eyes twinkle with something I can’t decipher. “We’re okay. Same old.”

“Same old?”

“We’re steady,” I explain, to relieve myself of his probing gaze. He makes it hard to concentrate on driving. I feel like I’m under inspection right now.

“You have no chemistry,” he blurts and I choke on my own breath. “I’m just being real.” This makes me snort aloud. “You’re like two wet cloths. Sure you mesh well, but that’s all you’ll ever do together.”

“You’ve seen us together twice… for very brief periods of time. How’d you figure all of this?”

“I had to sit back and watch as you and Isaac snuck around. I remember the looks you both got in your eyes. It was a terrible situation at the time but you both had chemistry. Even I can’t deny that.”

I wince. “Can we not talk about any of that? I just… It’s still…”

“Painful?”

“I just don’t want to go over it. What’s done is done.”

“Maybe,” he mutters under his breath.

I sigh and turn up the radio. “You’re becoming a meddler in your old age, Mr Price.”

“I get bored easily.”

Now we’re both grinning. As much as it annoys me when he brings stuff up that I don’t want bringing up, I can’t help but love his mischievousness. How does one stay mad at such a cute, ageing face?

His phone begins to ring and he picks it up and smiles before answering. “Isaac!” I love the happy tone to his voice, though it also seems a little bit forced. Are they okay? “I’m on my way to Cambridge.”

I hear Isaac’s deep, husky voice raise a few octaves. “WHAT?”

“Eloise is taking me to see Mud Pie at the university.” John says excitedly and this time I don’t hear Isaac’s response. “I’m staying the night.” Pause, chuckle. “Have a good night, Son.” And then he hangs up and turns to me. “That was Isaac.”

“No? Really?” I remark sarcastically and laugh when he pinches my arm. “Abuse! You Price men are all the same.”

“Are you and that Josie girl friends?”

“Who?”

He blinks, suddenly looking panicked. “He has told you, hasn’t he?”

Oh. It clicks into place. “You mean Jocelyn? She’s an acquaintance.” I try to shadow the bitterness in my voice by smiling.

“So you know?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s okay with you?” Why does he seem sceptical?

“It’s none of my business.”

“Isaac hates Silas. He’s jealous of your relationship.”

I blow out a breath. “Why are we talking about this?”

“I can see on your face that you probably don’t care much for Jocelyn.”

“John, please….”

He raises his hands. “I’m just being nosey. Don’t you girls have some kind of code against dating each other’s men?”

“Ex-men and no, Jocelyn and I aren’t friends so it doesn’t really apply.”

He shrugs. “I’ll take your word for it.” Then he grins wickedly. “So I guess you don’t care that they’re together right now at my house. Alone. Just the two of them.”

My hands clench on the wheel as a huge pang of envy hits me directly in the chest. I keep my face carefully blank. “Why would I?”

“That’s what I thought.” He grins and falls silent for a long moment. “So, you’ll read that book right?”

“YES!” I laugh and point to my bag by his feet. “I promise I’ll start reading it tonight when you go to bed.”

“Swear it?”

“You’re being exceptionally irritating today,” I tell him but he only laughs loudly.

I was being honest though. The second John goes to bed, I turn on the lamp in the living room, tuck myself under a throw blanket and read the first line of the book.

“Fatty, fatty, fat, fat.” They chanted and the first stone was cast. It scarred my head, but more effectively scarred my soul. I would never be the same again.

I fall asleep, turning the pages of a book that tears me up inside. A book of a boy, tormented because of his weight, tormented because of his dad’s status in his school. Kids can be shits and people wonder why I don’t want them?

I lie awake, my phone light illuminating the dark space. It hurts my eyes.

I kissed Jocelyn tonight. Or rather, she kissed me.

I don’t really know what to think about it. It was nice. It was strange. I don’t think I wanted it and I don’t think she really wanted it either. We just don’t click in that way, although she didn’t seem to agree. Her excitement was evident, her smile telling, yet even though she smiled and got excited I felt like nothing more than an outlet for something deeper inside of her.

Or maybe I’m being stupid.

What is wrong with me? A gorgeous girl, with beautiful lips and a beautiful body to match a beautiful personality, kissed me and I felt nothing.

Fucking nothing.

Is this how hollow my existence was before Elle? Is this how it felt?

I’m comparing my encounter to Elle and that doesn’t seem a fair comparison. What Elle and I had was passion; pure, unadulterated passion. The fire we created could have melted the earth. It’s not often in life that you find somebody that you connect with like that.

Did she feel it too? Elle, I mean…

Does she kiss Silas and compare him to me and find that he’s lacking in comparison to what I could give her. What I still can give her?

So I stare at my phone. I stare at my dad’s message, hope alight in my chest like my phone is alight in this dark room.

John
:
She still loves you, oddly enough. She hides it well and guards it well but only people who still feel it when they know they shouldn’t try to hide it. You really did a number on her.

I hope he’s right but I’m not going to hold my breath. My dad is an old romantic, though he won’t admit it, and he’s got far too much time on his hands. It’s probably wishful thinking because he wants me to be happy.

Isaac
:
You’re crazy.

John
:
I’m not crazy. You still have a chance. I can feel it.

Isaac
:
Maybe I don’t want it.

John
:
The fact you just started that sentence with ‘maybe’ shows that you probably do want it. You’ve changed. You’re not the man you used to be.

Isaac
:
I’m going to sleep now…

John
:
Alone?

Isaac
:
Yes, alone. Not that it’s even any of your business, you nosey old git.

I can picture him in my head. He’s probably laughing so hard he’s coughing to death. Idiot. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about and he needs to stop meddling.

When the morning finally comes after a restless night, I find myself alone for longer than an hour in my parent’s house for the first time in years. As a teen I would have taken this opportunity to get drunk, watch porn, wank into an old sock and eat everything sweet in the house.

Now I’m kind of bored and lonely.

I’m getting old.

No. I resent that. I’m not old, not in the slightest. I’m just fucking bored. There’s nothing to do here and I hate this stupid town.

Packing up my stuff after a brief yet cleansing shower, I dump it in the boot of my car and drive.