Six – Colin and Cindy

-x-

The slim Blonde broke into a wide grin as she opened the door.

'Hi.'

'Hi! Come in.' She ushered Colin inside. 'I'm so glad you were able to make it.'

'It certainly no mean feat getting Lynda Day to babysit,' replied Colin with a small smile, 'so I'm a bit amazed I've managed it myself.' He sniffed. 'You're cooking.'

Cindy took his coat. 'Hope you haven't eaten yet. I found this great lasagne recipe on the Vegan Society's website… who knew, you can get pretend cheese these days?'

Colin shrugged. 'Wonders of the modern age, eh?' He scratched his brow. 'I thought this was just going to be coffee.'

'I know, I know.' Cindy gestured for him to sit down before scurrying back into the kitchen. 'I just thought, this is such a special occasion, you know? Seeing you again after all these years…' she appeared again in the kitchen doorway, her face falling suddenly serious. 'I thought you were dead, Colin.'

'I know,' sighed Colin, concentrating on the cards on Cindy's mantelpiece, 'and I'm so sorr…' He frowned. 'That card's a mistake.' He got up and crossed to the mantelpiece. 'Tell me this card's a mistake, or a joke or something.'

'Nope.' She smiled at him again as he picked up the card, emblazoned with a pink, glittery round number. 'Thirty years young, last Sunday.'

'Thirty. You are not thirty!'

'Fraid so.'

'Thirty?' Colin set the card down, rubbing his eyes. 'I am so old!'

'Only six years older than I am,' Cindy told him over her shoulder as she darted into the kitchen once more, 'it's not that bad.'

'I don't know.' Colin sat back down again. 'Start pushing 40 and the big three-oh suddenly seems like peanuts. At thirty your life's still ahead of you, you can still get a decent career, there's still time to get hitched and have kids…'

'Hmm.' Cindy came back into the sitting room with a bowl of crisps. 'Well, I'm in a job I love, at least.'

'You don't ever think about having kids?'

Cindy began uncorking a bottle of wine. 'Can't.'

'Oh.' Colin looked at the carpet, embarrassed. 'Um…'

'It's all right.' Cindy gave him a small smile. 'I had what I thought was a scare when I was at Uni, got checked out, and… and no. It's not going to happen for me.'

'Cause of Him?' ventured Colin, 'what He did to you?'

'They don't know. It can't have helped, certainly.' She uncorked the bottle with a hard tug of the corkscrew. 'My patients are my Babies.'

'Well. It's good to know Graham's in such good hands.' He shook his head politely at Cindy's offer of a glass of wine.

'Ah.' Cindy sighed, 'about that. I've asked for Graham to be transferred to a different Counsellor…'

'What?'

'She's a really lovely lady, and a very good Counsellor. She's got five years experience on me…'

'But Gray likes you!' Colin complained. 'He's just started to get used to you…'

'It's inappropriate that I Counsel him, Colin. Given the circumstances… our friendship and all…'

'We haven't seen each other since I left school!'

Cindy shook her head. 'I'm really sorry, Colin. I just don't think I can do him justice. I only want what's best for him, in the long run.'

Colin fiddled with a thumbnail. 'Me too. He'll be really upset, though.'

'There's nothing to stop me seeing him as a friend,' added Cindy with a hopeful smile. 'Please have some wine.'

'I don't, usually…'

'Please?'

Colin stared at her for a moment, then nodded a grudging acceptance.

'So,' said Cindy as she poured. 'What happened? What happened to the brilliant Pink Rabbit Man?'

'He died.' Colin cleared his throat, nervously. 'I'm sure Graham's told you all about what happened.'

'He told me how he feels about it,' Cindy replied, 'which I can't talk about, as you know. But what about you? What happened to you?'

Colin paused, taking a drink of the dark wine. 'Life happened to me. Got married in '99… way too young and to the first woman who'd have me – Justine, her name was – a fellow Sales Rep and a J Name to boot. Should've seen that one coming.'

Colin looked up at Cindy, expecting her to ask another question, but the woman just watched him, waiting for him to speak again with a sympathetic smile.

'Obviously, it fell apart after a couple of years,' continued Colin. 'It was bound to. That was when I finally snapped. I take it you heard about my striptease on the cliff?'

'I went to your memorial service,' said Cindy, softly. 'Do you remember doing it?'

Colin nodded. 'It's weird… it was like I was watching the whole thing through a screen. I went away, wandered around Asia for a while, spent a year or so in a Buddhist monastery, then one day I was in Gwangju and I saw this poster for a touring band. And, second left from the middle, plain as day… was Kenny Phillips. It was like this bucket of cold water. I just thought, I had to go home. I had to let everyone know I was still alive, I was OK. I looked up where Lynda Day was working and went to her office.' Colin laughed a little. 'She hit me so hard. They nearly called the police on her. She couldn't even hear me apologising for the first few minutes, she was screaming so much. And then she stopped, and I remember this like it was yesterday… she asked me if I'd spoken to my Mum or Justine yet. And I said no, and I remember seeing her start to cry, and thinking how strange that was. And then she said…' Colin stalled, reliving the memory. 'She said "you poor, stupid bastard, you've got a son." Justine had found out she was pregnant when we split and she hadn't told me, the bitch. Having a baby'd been all she was after, in the long run. I'd been a Dad for three years and I hadn't even known it. I tried getting in touch, but she didn't want to know. As far as she was concerned, me still being alive was just a big inconvenience to her, and she made seeing Gray as difficult for me as she could. And I started to wish her dead. Talk about being careful what you wish for.'

He finished off the wine in his glass, and Cindy leaned across to refill it.

'It wasn't your fault.'

'Yeah, right,' Colin said, bitterly, 'she just got on the wrong train, right?'

'It was just a really, really bad stroke of luck,' replied Cindy, 'it had nothing to do with you.'

Colin shook his head. 'I wanted it to happen, and then it happened. It was Karma. And, you know what? If I had the chance to turn back time, stop it happening… to her… to all those people… I wouldn't. 'Cause I'd risk custody of Graham. What sort of person do you suppose that makes me?'

'It makes you a very devoted father.'

Colin snorted in derision. 'The sort of father who'd take a terrified three year old boy away from his mother? Poor Gray had only just met me and all of a sudden Mummy had gone and he was stuck with me. I've warped that poor kid for life. I'll be lucky if I come back as a tapeworm after all this.'

'Is that all this is about?' Cindy cocked her head at him. 'Some massive Karmic debt you feel you owe?'

'No.' Colin sighed, indecisively. 'Yes. No. I don't know.'

Cindy put her hand on his knee. 'He does love you, you know. You're his whole world. You make him feel safe. And the breakdown… not knowing about Gray… certainly the bombings – none of those were your fault. You do know that, deep down, don't you?'

Colin just looked at her.

'So how about cutting yourself some slack?' Cindy continued. 'How about letting that wonderful Pink Rabbit Man live again?'

'Not another one,' grumbled Colin. 'It's bad enough I've already got Lynda on at me.'

Cindy still didn't move her hand from his knee. 'Maybe we miss the old Colin.'

'Well I don't. I escaped him back on that cliff, I'm not letting him in again. It was a front, a crutch, like an addiction…'

'And you don't think all of this is just another crutch?' Cindy bit her lip. 'Colin, this isn't the real you.'

'I know. But neither was that, really. I'm not sure I know who the real me is.'

Cindy smiled slightly. 'Well, now it seems like we're getting somewhere.' In the kitchen, a timer chirruped, and Cindy's smile widened. 'And dinner's ready!'

-x-

Colin frowned, double-checking the clock. 'It's not nine o'clock already?'

'Fraid it is,' Cindy replied, pouring out another glass of wine for Colin.

'We've spent all evening just talking about me,' apologised Colin, 'you've barely breathed a word about yourself…'

Cindy shrugged. 'I'm interested in hearing about you. Besides, the night's still young.'

'No. I need to get back.' Colin got to his feet, only to be struck suddenly by how dizzy he felt. 'I shouldn't have drank all that wine.'

'Stay a bit longer?' asked Cindy. 'Have a cup of coffee… sober up.'

'And make Lynda babysit all night?' Colin had to laugh a little at that. 'Not bloody likely.'

'From what you said, she owes it to you,' Cindy replied. 'How many times have you been out since Justine died?'

Colin took a moment to think up an honest answer to her question which didn't make him sound utterly pathetic. 'Going out's overrated.'

'You need to get time away from being a Dad,' Cindy urged. 'It's only healthy. What do you do about socialising? What do you do about sex?'

Colin raised a small, ironic smile. 'What's that?'

The words had barely left his lips before Cindy forcefully grabbed his collar and kissed him. It took him a moment to overcome his surprise and for the briefest moment, he considered relaxing into it, and staying that way. He'd underestimated how much he'd missed that kind of attention, that sort of closeness with somebody. And the woman kissing him really was so very, very lovely…

He stepped back. 'I can't.'

'I'm… I'm sorry,' stuttered Cindy. 'I didn't mean… that is, I did mean… I've always really liked you, you know.'

He took another step back, grabbing his coat as he went. 'I can't,' he repeated.

'Maybe we can meet up again?' Cindy started to follow Colin as he made his retreat to her front door. 'Take Graham out somewhere? Take things nice and slowly…? I'd like that.'

He wanted to explain. Dear God, he wanted to explain. But there wasn't an explanation to give. As he opened the door for himself, there was only one thing he could think of to say.

'I can't.'