Chapter 6

Cedric:My losing control

My girlfriend – I think I can safely conclude that's what she is, I already told my mother, who was overjoyed – turns out not to be a very good cook. It's not a big problem, because I am. I'll make sure her friends will eat something entirely different from the culinary disaster she concocted earlier tonight. (I want to show off a little, and why wouldn't I.)

It's new to me, this relationship thing. It feels a bit strange, unnerving, but I assume that's normal. After all, I have been single for nine years.

I seem to have forgotten all about sex. 'Being' with Geraldine makes me feel very nervous. Fortunately, she's patient, so I expect I will learn in time.

To be perfectly honest, I don't know a lot about the subject of sex anyway. My relationship with Henrietta didn't last long enough for me to gain much sexual knowledge and skills. I wasn't exactly a virgin when the marriage ended, but I far from jumped her bones at the first date. I was rather shy. I thought she found it quite endearing, but maybe it added to her turning to Ian.

Oh, god, Ian. Every thought about anything significant seems to lead to him. It has always been like that, before as well as after I caught him in bed with my wife.

To me, he was the most notable student in our year when we entered college. He was handsome, yes, and clever. He also had this loneliness floating around him that I recognised. He hid it behind extreme extraversion (which I admired but couldn't muster myself). And he fled it by messing with girls, I guess. It pained me to see him hurt those women, but I didn't give up on him, because our friendship was special. I thought. Until he cheated on me with my wife.

At first, I thought I would never be able to cope with this double betrayal of my trust by the people I cared for most of all. At first, I wasn't able to fall asleep in my erstwhile wedding bed, without masturbating, and thinking about what they were doing when I caught them. Anger and arousal smelted easily together. It still is an effective fantasy. I never ceased to hate him.

Hating him (far more than I ever hated her) gave me strength. I kept the house Henrietta and I had bought in London before the marriage, despite what had happened in there. And I still live in it. I can handle the sight of Ian a couple of times a year. Hatred is a powerful shield against hurt.

As the traffic light turns green, I realise that I have to focus on where I'm going, or I'll miss the supermarket to which Geraldine has given me directions. I do not intend to cook anything fancy; in my opinion, the simpler a meal, the more impressive its taste. I don't need many groceries, and I'm back at Geraldine's house within half an hour.

'Cedric?' Her voice through the intercom sounds strangely reluctant.

'What's wrong, Geraldine?'

'Nothing,' she says. 'It's just that … Ian is here.'

Oh, god. Oh, Jesus, no. It's all happening again.

Well, it's not, I decide. He is not going to steal a woman from me again.

'Can I come upstairs?' I ask, putting every effort in suppressing the anger in my voice.

'Of course.'

She presses the buzzer; the door opens. I'm walking the stairs very slowly, bracing myself.

Geraldine opens the front door for me. 'I'm so sorry,' she says lowly. 'I shouldn't have let him in. But he just was …'

Charming his way in, of course. The bastard.

'Are you all right?' She has a worried look on her face.

'I'm fine,' I say. 'I just want to talk to him.'

There's a dead silence as I enter the living room. Everybody is looking at me. Ian gives me a slight ironic smirk. And that does it.

'Outside, Ian,' I say.

He laughs. 'I'm sorry? Outside? Should I bring my duelling pistols or my sword, CC?'

'Step outside, Ian,' I repeat. My tone is harsh, and I stare hard at him.

His expression changes and I know he knows I'm serious. He tries to sound sneering, but I hear a slice of fear creeping into his voice when he says, 'Oh no, it's not possible.'

'Outside,' I repeat once more with authority. And he follows me.

As we are on the street, I turn to him. He's smirking at me again. Geraldine and her friends have come outside to watch us, so maybe that is giving him confidence.

'Well, CC, what is this all about?' he says.

My god, doesn't he know? Does he really haven't a clue what he's doing to me?

I look at him standing in front of me, handsome and seemingly relaxed, and I suddenly want to destroy that sight. I've never really expressed my rage, and it's pouring out right now.

I rush towards him, and grab him. I want to push him to the ground. He's shorter than I am, and rather slender, but he's quick. He runs. I go after him. I tackle him. He falls, groans.

'CC, what are you doing?'

Teaching you, bastard. Getting even.

He tries to get up, but I dive on top of him. He growls. I grab the hair at the back of his head and pull hard. He shrieks. He moves beneath me, trying to get away. I'm heavier though, and stronger. I turn him on his back, holding him down. We're facing each other. He's frightened now. Good.

'CC …' He sounds almost pleading. I don't buy it.

I sit, straddling his stomach, looking down on him. My best friend, my worst enemy. God, I hate him.

'You're going to pay, Ian. For everything.'

I punch him hard. He yelps. My fist hurts. There's blood. It only serves as an encouragement to me.

I hit his head several times. He screams. I shout, 'Bastard! Son of a bitch! Why! Why did you leave me!' My words interfere with his plea to 'Stop, Cedric, for god's sakes, you're killing me.'

I stop. I didn't mean to kill him. Or to say the words I just said. I don't know what has gotten into me.

I get off him. 'Can you stand?'

'Leave,' he replies. 'Just leave.'

I start walking away, swaying. I feel nauseated and dizzy.

Geraldine and her friends are watching me from a couple of yards distance. They look shocked.

'Are you all right?' Geraldine asks. I just nod.

'We'd better check if Ian is okay,' Rhonda says.

She walks over to him. He's still lying on the ground. She says something to him and he responds, but I can't hear the words.

'He says he'll be all right,' she informs us when she's back. 'But he looks horrible.' She gives me an accusing glare. 'Why did you beat him up like that? I know he cheated on Geraldine, but Jesus, you needn't kill him. You're lucky he won't press charges.'

She's right. I didn't know I was capable of this kind of violence. I'm not a violent person. Nothing, not even what Ian has done to me, justifies my behaviour.

I turn my head to look at Geraldine. She has a worried, but also musing expression on her face. I gather she's wondering what has happened just now. Why it happened. And she's not the only one.