‘Jesus, mate, you’re a sight for sore eyes,’ he says, adding, ‘I never really understood that saying. Does it mean I’ve got sore eyes and you’re making them hurt more because you look like shit?’
Seb stares at his friend, supposedly his best friend, and wonders how the hell Eddy can’t see that he’s slowly dying.
Eddy bounces a box-fresh, bright-yellow ball, testing its springiness, before putting it in his pocket. ‘Whatever it means, I suppose what I’m getting at is – I hope you play as badly as you look. C’mon, let’s do it!’
Seb loses the first three games with Eddy breaking his serve easily, something he hasn’t been able to do for months. Seb feels like an out-of-control marionette doll, strings loose, clattering unsuccessfully after every ball. From the other side of the court, Eddy becomes quieter; he stops bouncing on his heels and after he wins the third game without breaking a sweat, he calls out to Seb, ‘Right, that’s it.’ Eddy waves his new racquet. ‘Break.’
Seb gladly obliges, walks slowly back towards the bench and takes a swig of water.
‘Shit, mate. I’m sorry I forgot; Anna said you had a migraine this week. That explains your rubbish play …’ Seb looks at Eddy, his face full of worry suddenly, and he starts laughing quietly because it’s just so absurd that Eddy thinks Seb’s falling apart because he had a headache. It hurts his throat, his chest, his heart to laugh but he does it anyway; he wraps his arms around himself and convulses with joyless laughter. Eddy stands opposite, frowning, a little scared. And then Eddy does the only thing Seb needs of him right now: he steps closer, so their chests beat side by side, and he opens his arms, pulling Seb towards him.
Held at last, Seb’s shaking doesn’t stop; in just a few short breaths it turns into sobs. He hasn’t ever cried like this before, rattling with shame from an unknown place within him, a place where previously he thought he was just bone, tissue and blood. He couldn’t hold back even if he tried and Eddy takes it all. Even when Seb stills a little, Eddy keeps his body strong, braced for another wave which comes again and again until at last he’s empty and a new stillness, heavy and sad, fills his chest. He keeps his eyes half closed as he pulls away, sinking to the tarmac. Eddy steadies Seb first and then comes to sit next to him as he slowly opens his eyes fully, wincing against the court floodlights, Eddy’s unusually calm face coming into gradual focus.
They sit in silence, breathing together, until Seb takes a longer, deeper breath on his own and says the words Eddy’s said to him many times before: ‘I’ve really fucked up.’
Seb rolls his lips together, between his teeth, unsure of the words but unable to stop them.
‘I cheated. On Rosie.’
Eddy’s eyes are soft, his gaze gentle. He knows this territory. ‘You had sex with someone else?’
Seb nods, feels the tears start to roll again. ‘We hadn’t – Rosie and I – we hadn’t had sex in so long. We kept arguing about it, I tried to make things better but no matter what I …’ Seb shakes his head, swats the tears from his eyes. ‘It’s been a year now, but even back then I was …’
‘A year!’
Seb feels a shift in Eddy, like Eddy is coming back from wherever they just journeyed together.
Now he’s started, Seb can’t stop; he has to get the words out of his body. His voice is quiet but calm as he says, ‘Eddy, I …’
‘Tell me, mate.’ Eddy’s eyes are wide, ready.
‘I found her online.’
Eddy stumbles and asks, ‘Were you drunk?’
‘No, I … We met in the day.’
‘You
Something in Eddy’s tone pulls Seb back.
‘How many times did you do it?’ Eddy is needy, wanting the facts fast before Seb changes his mind and clams up.
‘Twice, only twice, a few months ago.’
‘Ah. OK.’
Seb watches as Eddy battles to keep his expression neutral.
‘Are you going to tell Rosie?’
‘No. No, definitely not.’
Eddy’s forehead lifts in surprise.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Mate, I’m not looking at you like …’ Eddy starts defensively, but then changes course, saying more gently, ‘It’s just a lot to take in, that’s all. So this happened a little while ago?’
Seb glances at the sky. He’s come this far and, besides, this whole thing has only become a big issue since he came home and found her in his fucking house.
‘She, um, the woman, she turned up …’
But Seb’s talking too slowly for Eddy, who asks loudly, ‘Turned up where, mate?’