Present Day (One month)...
You are trembling with fear. Even so you think that Warren has underestimated you the way men tend to more so than women.
They take one look at you and decide that you are little more than a fuckable clothes hanger. They talk to you as if you haven't got two brain cells to rub together or as though you are unable to process things around you to make your own opinions and conclusions. Maybe that is why your two best friends turned out to be gay men. Brendan's and Paddy's eyes don't wander down to your tits when you engage in meaningful conversation with them.
What these other men don't realise is that you can use their assumption to your advantage. They don't see your quick tongue and sharp mind coming.
You are hoping that Warren is one of them because he has scared the shit out of you.
He knows your name and that you work with Brendan and that you own two clubs. What else does he know?
You wave him off when he gets into his taxi. As soon as the car rounds the corner drop your fake smile.
You don't know who this man is exactly but you are one hundred percent certain that he is no friend of Brendan's. If he were, Warren would know there was no chance Brendan would be working tonight. Instead he took your word for it; didn't bat an eyelid. It makes you question whether Brendan even knows that Warren is in town and what his intentions are.
Instinctively, he feels like bad news but you played nice and acted like you believed his 'long-lost-friend' story. You didn't show your mistrust of him but you found out where he was staying by offering to call him a cab and you have hopefully put a halt to his sniffing around for a few hours by telling him that Bren will be a sure find if he waits until a trip to THE ELECTRIC tonight.
Now you need to find out whom the fuck he is. There is no point calling Brendan now because his phone will be off so you ring his sister instead while grabbing your keys and locking up the club.
"Hey Chez." You say breathlessly as you jump into your car. "What can you tell me about a guy called Warren?"
"What?" Cheryl sounds distracted. You can hear kids crying in the background.
"He turned up at VIBE looking for Brendan saying he was a friend from the past." There is a huge pregnant pause. You think you have been cut off so you say, "Cheryl?"
She says. "What did he look like?"
"Tall. Burly. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Regional accent. I want to say Manchester, maybe."
Cheryl says softly. "That twat! Warren Fox was my boyfriend ages ago. He cheated on me with some glamour model. He and Brendan were partners at the club my brother ran in Hollyoaks. They didn't see eye to eye at all, Niks. I know that they constantly bickered. They weren't friends."
"Was it anything more than bickering?"
"How do you mean?"
"I don't know. Anything shady or serious?"
"Brendan is a pussy cat compared to Warren. And no I don't think there was anything else. They were two very big fish in a small pond. They were constantly fighting for the title of head fish. Nothing more."
"Strange." You say. "Anyway, I was going to let your brother know. He gave me the creeps."
"That's Warren for you." Cheryl says. "The twat."
xo
As you walk into the oncology unit of St Vincent's Hospital you are struck by how used you are to doing this. Over the last month this trip has become routine. Brendan getting his chemo.
You briskly go to reception and speak to a familiar ward nurse.
"Hi. Is Brendan here yet?" You say, trying to keep the rising fear about Warren out of your voice.
"Yes. He is hooked up already. His sons are with him so you'll have to trade places. Only two visitors at a time!" She beams at you with that baby voice of hers. Why do people think that's cute?
"No problem." You need to speak with Bren without his son's around anyway.
"Make sure you gel your hands before you go in. We don't want to bring nasty bugsies into our cween clinical areas, now do we?" She says.
"No, we don't." You squirt the alcohol gel into your palm and rub it around while looking into the room.
Brendan is the only patient here right now. He is asleep in a reclined comfy chair, attached to his chemo meds with his sons either side of him. Declan is reading some veterinary book while listening to his I-pod, reminding you that the summer holidays are coming to an end. Paraic is inspecting the drip going into his father's arm.
"This one says Vincristine, Dec." He says. "The other one said Daunorubicin."
He prods his dad's arm to wake him up.
"Stop it, P. Let him sleep." Deccy says as their father stirs.
"But I want to ask him something."
"How would you like to be woken up when you felt like crap and just managed to get off to sleep?"
"You woke him up last time!" The younger boy says in hushed anger.
"Oi. No arguing you two." Brendan mumbles as he wakes up.
You check your hands. They are dry so you walk into the room. "Hi, boys."
"Hiya, Niks." Declan says.
Paraic waves at you.
"How long have I been asleep?" Brendan asks.
"Five minutes." Deccy says.
"Sorry about that, boys. I'm not great company now-a-days."
"Don't worry about it." Declan says as he closes his book. "We welcomed the peace and quiet."
Brendan gives him a small smile. "Cheeky eejit."
"Does this one hurt, dad?" Paraic asks pointing at the clear bag of chemotherapeutic medication hanging from the drip stand.
He has developed a morbid fascination about every detail of his father's treatment. With his obsession and Declan's developing medical knowledge the two of them have become extremely inquisitive and regularly pester staff with questions about his progress. The doctors have told Eileen that it is a natural grief reaction; a way of controlling what is incomprehensible to them; that their father is mortal.
"No. It doesn't." Bren sits up. "Just makes me feel tired, washed out and like I want to vomit after."
He has lost more weight since starting chemo. Weight he couldn't really afford to lose. So he is on nutritional supplements. His son's don't know that.
Also his hair has fallen out so he shaves it daily. Makes him look like a thug. You never reckoned on his moustache falling out though, but it did. That was a shock. It completely changed his appearance. You and Declan were there the day he shaved off the final resistant wispy hairs from his head and face earlier this week.
Declan shaved his hair off too and when Paraic saw his bald father and brother he demanded the same.
The Brady boys in it together.
You feel bad to break the visit but you have to speak with Bren. You are hoping he will reassure you that there is nothing to worry about.
"Boys, I need to have a quick word with your dad and he can only have two visitors at a time. Mind if you tag out for five minutes?"
Declan reads the urgency in your voice and says. "Sure, we'll go get some hot chocolate from the canteen."
When you are left alone Bren says, "Don't tell me the businesses have gone to shit without me."
He smiles. He has been surprisingly good natured through this ordeal. It is probably a front.
"I'm going to ignore that comment because we both know that I am the boss really."
"What's got you all worried?"
"Can you tell?" You reply. "Warren Fox rocked up to VIBE about an hour ago."
You involuntarily shiver.
It is as if he has just seen a ghost. "Foxy?"
"So it is not good." You say.
"What did he want?
"He said he was in town to catch up with you. He wondered where he could find you."
He sits up straight but ends up collapsing back into the chair. He looks so tired. He strokes his smooth upper lip in a habit that is slow to die. "What did you tell him?"
"Nothing." You study his countenance. Brendan is unsettled. "But he knew about me and he knew about our clubs, Bren."
You sit down in the chair Declan vacated. "Should I be worried?"
"I don't know. I haven't spoken to Warren in six years. We settled the score."
"What score?"
His hands ball into fists. He is explosively angry. He trembles from it. "An... issue we had."
"Is there a chance he still has a bone to pick with you?"
"Did he say anything?"
"Nothing specific."
He closes his eyes momentarily. "Did he mention Stephen?"
You are surprised at his ex's mention.
"No. Why would he?"
He suddenly becomes agitated. "I need to find him."
You think quickly. Brendan is no fit state to have a conversation never mind face up to an old enemy. You won't let him walk into the Fox's den. "How are you going to do that then? You don't know where he is staying."
He slumps back into his chair. "Did he say he was coming back to the club?"
"No, but I'll let you know if he shows up again."
"Don't talk to him if you don't have to, Niks. You can't outsmart him. Just ring me if you see him and I'll come over straight away. He is a dangerous man."
"Okay, daddy bear. I will promise to stay away from the big bad wolf if you promise you'll get better soon."
"That's not fair. I have no control over my body." He says with a wry smile.
"Neither have I." I reply. You wink at him and leave quickly.
Your destination is not work.
Your first stop is Jo-Jo's Motors to see whether Paddy can shed some more light on the Warren-Brendan situation. You don't go to Cheryl because you get the impression that she is unaware of any serious clash that there may have been between the men.
XOXO
Present Day (Day 5)...
You knock on Brendan's apartment door in the morning. He doesn't answer so you use your own set of keys to get in.
You cast your eye over the open plan living space. He isn't there so you walk to his bedroom. His bed is made, untouched. Did he sleep here last night? You check his en suite bathroom and the guest room that his sons use when they stay over. He isn't there either.
A panic begins to rise in you. What if he did something stupid after Cheryl came to see him yesterday? What if he couldn't face his diagnosis and the fact that his family now knew? What if him not being here had something to do with Ste and the fact that he was supposed to be leaving for England with his fiancé today?
You ring his phone as you walk back through to the living area but it goes straight to answer phone. That is when you see the glass doors that lead to his small balcony garden flung wide open.
Your heart stops as you run through the doors expecting to see the horrific scene of Brendan's dead body four floors below.
You breathe a sigh of relief when you see him asleep on a deck chair, bare foot, in jeans and a t-shirt in the warm morning weather. His lower lip is swollen and split causing you to wonder what happened to him. His is holding a t-shirt in his lap that you immediately recognise from five years ago. The one that belonged to Ste. The one that was covered in old blood. It isn't anymore. It looks clean. Soft. From how your best friend is holding it you are pretty sure no one would be able to prise it out of his hands without a fight.
This sleeping forty year old man looks peaceful right now. The lines on his face are smoothed out by repose. The scanty scattering of silver hairs near his temple look less marked. You look down at his neck. He is wearing a crucifix around it. Gold. Shimmery. If your memory serves you right it is very similar to the one that came in the parcel that Ste sent him. Could it be the same one?
You wonder why he is wearing it now.
He stirs and, as if knowing he is under scrutiny, he opens his eyes.
"Hi." You say as you hover over him, nervously.
"What are you doing here?" He says after blinking a couple of times and narrowing his eyes at you.
"I came to say I'm sorry." You clear your throat. "For what happened yesterday. I didn't mean to tell Cheryl or Declan."
He sits up suddenly and you take a step back thinking he is about to pounce but he stretches out instead without letting go of the t-shirt.
"Water under the bridge." He says then stands up slowly, flinging the black top onto his shoulder.
You follow him to the balcony railing to look out onto Herbert Park and match his pose; elbows on railing, chin on closed fists. It is a nice day out. Blue cloudless skies. The kind where you don't expect any drama to happen.
You could do with one of those days.
"What's with the lip?" You say, involuntarily tonguing your own as you look at his swollen one.
"Cute huh?" He says. "This is courtesy of Ste's fiancé's fist. He paid me a visit in the middle of the night. I think he likes me."
"He came to see you? Why?" You ask.
Brendan looks out into the distance. His eyes look contemplative. He doesn't say anything for a while so you figure he isn't going to tell you and there is never any point in pushing him.
"Because I deserved it." He says and smiles at you humourlessly. "It's ironic really, Niks, and no one will ever know why. That blond Adonis punched me for the wrong reason. I didn't do what Braveheart thinks I did but I did something that he doesn't know I did. You get it?"
You shake your head. Is he high or something?
"What are you talking about, Bren?"
He leans into you, boring his eyes into yours.
"Things aren't always what they seem. The truth isn't always the truth and people lie to people they care about to protect them."
"Are you saying that is what you did?"
He nods.
"What did you do that Martin doesn't know about?" You ask. "Where were you yesterday evening?"
His smile becomes genuine. Pure. Far away. Not his usual ironic smirk or sarcastic tick. His hand goes to the crucifix and he closes his eyes as if remembering a specific moment.
"Were you with Ste?" You hope that his expression does not reflect what you think. "Please tell me you didn't fuck Ste yesterday."
He looks out at the view but his expression is distant.
"You did, didn't you?" You say incredulously. "You fucked him!"
"Calm down." He shakes his head. "I didn't."
"Christ, Brendan. Those guys aren't having some meaningless fling. They are engaged to be married! You can't mess with that."
"I didn't sleep with him, Niks." He insists.
"No?"
"No." He says. "There was a problem."
"You couldn't get it up?"
He scowls at you. "No condoms. Eejit."
"Ste didn't push you away?"
Brendan grunts then shrugs. You take that as a no.
"Where were you?"
"I went to his hotel. Wanted to say bye, I guess, and to explain myself. Then the clothes came off."
"That is why he was late last night." You say thinking back on Martin's anxious wait while his fiancé didn't fuck his ex in their hotel bed because neither had condoms. You aren't one to judge but this situation strikes you as super fucked up with both Martin and Ste hooking up with their exes when they should have been together.
"So that's why Martin decked ye." You point at his lip. "I don't blame him."
"No. He doesn't know about me and Stephen. If that had been the reason I would put my hand up and say fair play. I deserve it. I tried to get with your man."
"So then why did he punch you?"
"Because he doesn't know that he should have thanked me for something I did. I gave him back his Ste. I... wrote something to Stephen to push him away." He looks away from you and rubs his moustache vigorously then runs a shaky hand through his hair. "A small white lie. Nothing really. Designed to be misinterpreted. Just enough."
"What did you tell him?"
"I made it clear why me and him were a bad idea. Why it could never work. He is there." He points at one spot on the railing. "I am here." He points at another spot. "I can't ever give him what he needs. It's better this way."
You are sure his eyeballs are glistening with unspent tears.
"Brendan. Look at me." You coax him with your finger on his chin to do just that.
"Bloody hell!" You whisper. "You love him, don't you?"
"Don't be soft." He says but there is no punch in his words. No conviction. It is as good as him saying 'yes'.
"You do. You carry mementos of him like good luck charms."
You touch his crucifix where it rests on his chest.
"Do you think he loves you?" You ask.
He clears his throat. "He told me he did. Yesterday."
"So then why do you think you can't offer him what he needs?"
"A second ago you were having a go because I was breaking a happy home."
"That is before I knew you weren't just fucking around with him. If you love Ste and Ste loves you then you should be together. It might break Martin's heart but it is better than being second best. I have met the guy a couple of times now. He deserves better than that."
"You don't know what you are talking about, Niks. It is not as easy as that."
"Don't patronise me. I am no expert on love but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that if you are lucky enough to find someone that fits like a glove you hold onto them. I can't understand why you pushed him away."
"I know I did the right thing. I am not dragging Stephen back so that he has to live through what I have to go through. He has been through enough crap to last him a lifetime. He has had a shit childhood then a shit adolescence. Then he met me."
"Things got better, right?" She says.
"You are cute when you play dumb." He says deadpan. "You really don't know me, Niks. Not properly."
He holds your gaze and you shudder with the heat behind his eyes. "I used to beat him up."
You were not expecting that. Declan had alluded to a rocky start to their relationship but your mind never entertained something as serious as domestic violence. You don't know what to think. Your skin crawls thinking that someone you call a friend could done that to another human being.
"See. That is the kind of man I was." He nods. "Bruises. Broken ribs. The works. And do you know what he did?"
You shake your head numbly.
"He stayed. Told me he loved me. I used him, Niks. Got him involved in some shady get rich quick schemes. Treated him like shit in public to hide the fact that I was fucking him in private. When he saw sense and left me I selfishly pulled him back to me because I needed him even though he had found someone so much better."
"That's fucked up." You choke out. "I don't want to hear any more."
"Why? You were saying that he should be with me and I am telling you why he shouldn't. Why I did what I did yesterday. Why Martin punched me."
"You didn't want Ste to continue his pattern of being the victim and going back to you." You say. "So are you saying you would hit him again?"
Just that suggestion has shocked him.
"No. Jesus. Never. I am not proud of what I did."
"When did you stop hitting him?"
"Why is it important?"
"When?"
"Four months into being with him."
"What made you stop?"
He looks at you as is if he can't believe you are doing this to him. "It became unbearable. I could feel his pain with every fist. It was never about him, my anger. He did nothing wrong. I was the fucked up one."
"So you changed?" You say.
"No one changes, Niks. Not deep down."
"Your behaviour changed. You relearned how to manage your anger. You stopped beating him. You went public with your relationship."
"I was still bad for him."
"Why? Was he unhappy when you were together?"
"Fuck, Nicola, you sound just like Chez."
"Did he make you happy?"
"Yes."
"Someone once told me that love is the opposite of romantic. That it is like an instinct; selfless and all consuming. That it is there even when the person isn't, when things get tough just as much as when things are great. This friend said that love was in remembering every detail and it is there for life."
You are reflecting his own monologue from three years ago. He remembers because he raises an eyebrow and says,
"Whoever said that was an over-emotional dick."
You smile. "Believe me, he isn't, but more to the point I think he is wrong. I reckon love is what you make it. It is individual. It can be for eternity or for right now. It can be monogamous or open. The key is that the people involved should believe in the same kind of love. It should be synchronous. Then it works. Ste was happy. Full stop."
He pulls Ste's black t-shirt off his shoulder and toys with it, rubbing the fabric between his hands. "He won't be if he has me. All the love in the world can't cure cancer, Niks. I am not putting him through it with me. End of subject."
"He is leaving today." You try.
"I know." He looks at his watch. "In an hour and a half."
"Plenty of time to do that thing they do in the movies."
He raises an eyebrow at you. "What's that then?"
"It always happens at the end. The man or the woman, whoever has been in denial about their feelings, runs to a railway station or airport or wherever and stops their loved one from leaving by declaring their undying love for them."
He wraps his arms around you in a big bear hug and kisses the top of your head. "But this is reality."
"So?"
"I have an appointment with the chemo docs at three pm today."
"Oh."
"Could you come with me?"
"You sure you don't want Chez with you?"
"She's got three kids to take care of. I need my best mate."
You grin because he never calls you that.
"I can promise hardcore drugs, pricks, and men in uniform." He says with a smile.
"Why didn't you say so sooner? I'm there!"