Private Lives полностью

‘Um, not really, no, not really. Look, Ed, I really want to talk, I’ve got something to ask you, something you can do to help this whole horrible thing, but I’m about to meet with a parent so only have a couple of minutes …’

‘That’s fine. That’s fine.’ Eddy knows he should start by telling him how sorry he is that all this is happening, gently ask what Seb’s plans are, perhaps suggest that he take some time away from work to focus on his family, prepare the ground for Eddy to imply that he should resign. Or perhaps he could tell Seb that he’s just been to Ruston, the things Anna told him, the things that helped her reaction make more sense to Eddy. But those words are jostled and pushed to one side, making way for other, more boisterous ones that leave Eddy in an undignified whine, ‘Listen, Seb, I … Anna told me that you think what happened in Singapore was the same thing as … you know, this thing that you’ve done.’

There’s a brief pause on the other end of the line, Seb doing that thing where he quietly considers what’s just been said.

‘Ed, you know I’m going through a horrific time, I don’t really have the energy for your relationship prob—’

‘You meant it?’ Eddy can’t help it; he cuts Seb off.

But Eddy stops talking because to his dismay and irritation, on the other end of the line, Seb starts laughing.

‘What? What’s so funny, Seb?’ Eddy squeaks, sounding like the twelve-year-old he was when they first met at the bike park.

But Seb can’t answer because he’s laughing too much, a little manic.

He takes a couple of deep breaths to calm himself before he says, ‘That is literally the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard. My life is falling apart and you want to talk about yourself?’

Now it’s Eddy turn to pause.

He’s selfish? Seb’s calling him selfish when Seb’s the one who has lied again and again, Seb’s the one who rented a damaged woman, like that girl, Charlotte, Anna told him about, and Seb’s the one who gambled his children’s well-being for a quick shag? For most of Eddy’s life, Seb has been the golden boy – athletic, clever and kind – while Eddy felt like a grasping, hunched, lowly sidekick whose only attribute was to do the stupid stuff others were too frightened to do and to say the stupid gags to make people laugh – and, even then, only sometimes. But now, with these revelations, Seb has fallen from his cloud with the other rare angels, face first into the mud where Eddy has always stood.

‘My life, everything I love is hanging by a thread and you, my best mate, are worried about something your insane wife said about you?’

That word, ‘insane’, kicks Eddy in the guts. Seb doesn’t know Anna, not really; he doesn’t know that she knows more about the dark side of prostitution than any of them. What it can do to people, to a place. He thinks again of Charlotte.

‘That’s not fair,’ Eddy says, his jaw tense.

‘No, Ed, I’ll tell you what’s not fair. Being hounded by your wife at work when I need friendship, support more than ever. What’s not fair is my best mate thinking only of himself …’

Eddy hangs up.

He thinks about his arthritic, white-haired father-in-law slowly clearing away used condoms in the jacket and tie he always wears. Of Anna’s young face watching girls being driven away by strangers, that poor, poor girl Charlotte, and then he thinks about Seb. The circumstances might have been a bit different but he still knowingly got involved in an industry that treats women like commodities, like some kind of human spittoon. Anna is right: he isn’t so different to any of the men driving those desperate young girls away somewhere quiet and lonely where no one would hear them.

His phone buzzes with a message from Anna: I’m going to publish the petition, OK?

Eddy types out, Fine, but then he deletes it because Seb has been his best mate for longer than he’s known Anna. He types out, No, Anna. Please don’t, but just as he’s about to press send he changes his mind, deletes that message too, because how long had Seb been lying to them all? And besides, doesn’t Anna need his support now? He throws his phone back into his bag and gets on his train and decides to do absolutely nothing – which is, he decides, a decision in itself.

Chapter 13

Seb works from home on a Tuesday; with his new open-door policy at school, it made sense having one clear morning to tackle budget admin and staffing issues, and make confidential phone calls somewhere he wouldn’t be disturbed. When Rosie gets back from drop-off, she finds him hunched over his laptop, long legs splayed at the kitchen table, his head snapping up from the screen as she enters.

‘Ro, sorry, I thought you’d be at work.’

Rosie flicks the kettle on and looks at Seb. God, his earnest expression is so transparent; nervously touching the scar on his lip.

‘I’ve taken the rest of the week off work,’ she says, her tone bland, emotionless. ‘Good old Norovirus.’