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Chapter Four Not You

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Angry at himself, at Emma, and most of all at Andy, Dom wanted to make things right. But he was stubborn. Alcohol increased that stubbornness, and though he so wanted to roll over and apologise to Emma, he couldn’t shake what she’d said.

You sound like Andy.

Why say that? When they’re lying together, naked and familiar, his hand between her legs and hers around his hard-on? Why was that an acceptable time to tell him he sounded like his fitter, better-looking friend?

He could hear Emma’s breathing, slow and even, and he guessed that she’d already fallen asleep. She would not appreciate being woken now.

Don’t always be a loser.

He wasn’t sure if he’d truly heard that from Andy. But the truth didn’t really matter. He thought he’d heard his friend muttering those words, so in reality it was Dom saying it to himself.

Don’t always be a loser.

‘Fuck’s sake,’ he whispered into the humid, dark bedroom. He needed a drink of water. He couldn’t decide whether he was more drunk than he’d believed, or dehydrated from the heat. If he moved he might wake Emma. He also needed to piss.

He lay there for some time, drifting in and out of a troubled doze. The day felt unfinished, still primed with wasted opportunities for lovemaking with Emma, and adventure with Andy. Settled sleep evaded him. Eventually the need to urinate forced him towards the en suite.

Emma stirred and rolled from her back onto her left side, groaning in her sleep, a deeply sexual sound. ‘… in the bath,’ she muttered.

Dom heard her even breathing and smiled. Maybe the next day he’d ask her about her dreams.

But dreams were the last thing on his mind when he woke the next morning.

He slept in, partly because it was Saturday, partly from the effects of the previous evening’s cider. Jazz woke him. She licked his face, and as he shoved her away the phone rang. It was one of his customers, Mrs Fletcher. Her electricity kept tripping, and she was desperate for Dom to come and sort the problem.

Emma was already up and dressed, ready to go and collect Daisy from the friend she’d stayed with the night before.

Dom was pouring coffee and waiting for toast to pop from the toaster when Emma said, ‘I was hoping we could go together.’

‘I really can’t say no to Mrs Fletcher.’

‘No. Sure. What about later?’

‘Later?’

Emma stared at him for a few seconds, and Dom didn’t like what he saw in her expression. It was like a stranger’s. She was someone he didn’t know assessing him, not the wife he adored. He felt a moment of frank appraisal, so intense that it made him feel uncomfortable.

Emma sighed lightly and looked aside, running a hand through her hair. As if she’d looked him over and found him lacking.

‘Lucy’s party.’

‘Oh, of course, I’ll be there. What time?’

‘Two.’

‘Right. Play centre, yeah?’

‘Thirty kids shouting and screaming in a ball pit,’ Emma said. ‘The joy of parenthood.’

They orbited each other in the kitchen for a few more minutes, then Emma left first. She gave him a perfunctory peck on the cheek.

He wanted to say something about the previous evening. But the day was gathering velocity, things were moving on, and he was already thinking about Mrs Fletcher’s electrical problem.

That, and something else. Sober, yesterday’s discussions with Andy did not feel quite as he’d first experienced them. His friend had been probing, rather than plotting. Behind every ‘No one will suffer’ comment had been a deeper, blander thought – Boring fuck. Stuck with the same woman for years. Drifting through life on the tails of those really living it.

As Dom drove through Usk towards Mrs Fletcher’s old cottage, he thought of Andy powering downhill ahead of him on his bike. Seeing the future first. Filling his face with the wind, daring fate, while Dom tweaked his brakes, preferring the climb because it was more tempered, slower, predictable and safe.

By the time he’d reached Mrs Fletcher’s, he’d already decided to text Andy.

Got time for a coffee?

And it was as if Andy was waiting for him, because his reply was almost instant.

Sure. Where you at?

Dom told him, named a time and a place, then grabbed his toolbox and went to work.

‘I’m talking, you’re listening,’ Dom said.

He sat opposite Andy. They were in the outdoor area of the garden centre cafe, two coffees and a selection of cake slices already on the table. Andy had arrived twenty minutes before him, and Dom had taken childish pleasure in making his friend wait.

Andy held his hands up, then drew one across his lips.

Dom glanced around and sat down. The cafe was busy with the usual Saturday morning crowd of squabbling families, elderly couples, and a group of local kids drinking hot chocolate. A couple of dogs tugged on their leads and snapped thrown treats from the air. Tame sparrows and a robin hopped from table to table, causing squawks of delight from children and smiles from parents.

No one was paying them any attention.

‘No weapons,’ Dom said.

Andy raised his eyebrows.

‘No one gets hurt. We don’t lay our hands on anyone.’

‘Right,’ Andy said, nodding. ‘Of course.’

‘We hide whatever we take, leave it for a year.’

‘At least a year.’

‘Any inkling that we might get caught, any reason why it’s not as easy as you seem to think it’ll be, then we’re out.’

‘Sure. But it is easy.’

‘Right, yeah,’ Dom said. ‘But any sign that it won’t be, and it’s off. I have a beautiful family that I love very much. I won’t do anything that’s a risk to them or me.’

‘You do have a lovely family,’ Andy said. ‘You’re lucky. They’re why you’re doing this.’

Dom nodded. Yes, because of them. But as he drank some of his coffee, slowly, savouring the taste, he knew that wasn’t quite true.

This was all for him.

‘I’ll think it all through properly today,’ Andy said. ‘Get back to you tomorrow. A call, not a text. You spend the weekend with your family, all very normal.’

Dom’s heart was beating too fast. He was sweating. He was also excited, and pleased at his friend’s surprise. He never believed I’d really do it, he thought. But he would not say that out loud.

‘When should we go?’

‘No more for now,’ Andy said. ‘Cake. Coffee. Check her out, over there.’ He nodded behind Dom.

Dom turned to look over his shoulder and caught the eye of an attractive young woman in shorts and T-shirt, just as she was looking their way. He glanced away, embarrassed, and Andy laughed.

‘Bastard.’

‘You know it. She’s giving me the eye, though.’

‘Jesus.’

‘I’ll be whoever she wants me to be.’

They chatted some more, but Dom’s mind was on one thing. He felt like he’d made a commitment, even though the deed itself still seemed distant and unlikely. He felt lighter.

His horizons had been opened to a new beginning, and it was time to start living.

‘Monday,’ Andy said.

‘Really? That soon?’

‘Why wait?’

‘So … how?’

‘Bike ride tomorrow? We can chat then.’

‘Sure.’

‘I’ll be at yours about ten o’clock.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Have a nice evening, mate. Say hi to Emma for me.’

That Saturday evening, Dom played with Daisy in the garden while Emma cooked some chicken for a warm salad.

The weather was scorching, and Daisy wanted to play Scrabble. Usually that bored Dom. Most games bored him, and he’d often feel more inclined to watch some TV with her, or perhaps encourage her to get some sketching paper out and keep herself occupied.

That evening, however, he felt different.

Later, with Daisy in bed, he brought out a bottle of Emma’s favourite wine. She liked dry white straight from the fridge, so cold that it sometimes gave him brain freeze. They sat in the garden together and drank the bottle, then when they went inside around 10 p.m. he made them mojitos.

‘A less suspicious woman would think you were after something,’ Emma said.

‘Innocent me?’ Dom asked.

They made love on the sofa, moving to the living room floor when they became more energetic and the leather made too much noise. Jazz barked at them, and Dom had to jump up and shut her in the kitchen. Then he returned to his wife, and the heat didn’t matter, the uncomfortable rug bothered neither of them. They came together.

Dom knew it was one of those evenings that would stay with him forever. A perfect time.

‘I like today,’ Emma said later when they were snuggled in bed. It was hot, but they both enjoyed the contact. ‘It’s a very not-like-you day.’

‘Oh, thanks,’ he said. But he was not offended. He liked her thinking that.

Soon they disentangled themselves and Emma fell asleep.

Dom took a lot longer to drift off. He spent a long time staring at the ceiling, thinking, and feeling not quite himself.

The Family Man: An edge-of-your-seat read that you won’t be able to put down

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