Lost in Manchester - 22. Flat Warming. April 2010. James.

It was 6 o’ clock on a Saturday morning, and the flat was silent. So was the building and so were the streets of the city below. All so poisonously quiet. James tried again to close his eyes and will himself to doze some more, but it was no good. He lay there for another hour, hoping in vain that the relief of sleep would come, before giving in and getting up.

He slipped on some joggers and stepped silently through to the lounge, perching himself on the edge of the sofa and staring out at the still city.

His mind went back once again to the day of the funeral. The looks he got from the assembled family members which told him everything. They knew he had done this and he would have nowhere to hide. He knew it too. Yet somehow the minutes and hours had passed and then the days. The police were doing nothing. Somehow they couldn’t pin it down to him. It took James several days to realise that they weren’t going to send him to prison. They probably should have. Instead they sent him to a psychiatrist.

 

He had no idea how much time had passed in the flat, but he stirred back to full consciousness at the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Morning” Adam said groggily, and came across to slouch on the sofa.

James summoned the energy to put on a happy front. With Adam it wasn’t so hard. He got up and walked across to the kettle.

“Hey there. Coffee?”

“Bollocks, we have to make a party happen tonight” Adam muttered.

From the moment they took the lease on the new flat, they had started talking about a flat warming party and had quickly chosen a date and let friends know, but somehow three weeks had passed without any planning and now it was upon them.

“We do. Coffee?”

“Our flat is a total tip.”

James looked around at the clusters of still-packed boxes lying in the lounge, and beyond those to the boxes in the hallway.

“It is. So, coffee?”

“And we don’t have any food in, or beer, or decorations, or, like, any remote plan of what we’re doing.”

“All of the above is absolutely true. You want some coffee?”

Adam rubbed his eyes and looked across.

“Coffee would be good”.

 

After the caffeine boost they headed out to shop and in a couple of hours they were back and James was beginning to blow up balloons while Adam showered.

His mind wandered back again. Back to the fateful party in college. It was one of those parties in summer when some college kid’s parents were away, so he’d packed away any breakables and just turned the music up loud, stacked up crates and crates of beer and invited everyone over. It was the first time James had turned up to something with his new girlfriend.

It had taken so long to overcome his fear and get it together with Carly. He adored her, and he’d do anything not to lose her. He remembered making out with her in the hallway at this party, with everyone walking past, jealously looking across, and those yellow and green balloons all around their feet.

His best friend Brad walked past and touched them both on the shoulder, killing the kiss. Brad was a great guy but he was a real player, and James knew he liked Carly too. Everyone liked Carly. But he always worried that Brad might try something with her. He’d always come up and touch her arm, or kiss her cheek, unnecessary stuff. Just getting too close to your best friend’s girlfriend.

“Me next, right?” Brad had said grinning, and blew her a kiss as he walked on past. She laughed and stared just a little too long after him. It was such a stupid thing, he should have ignored it, but he was anxious back then. Even worse than he was now.

For the rest of the evening it seemed to carry on. Just little exchanges or looks across the room. James was sure there was something going on, or that Brad was hoping there would be. James became really short with him all evening, then when Carly told him to just relax, it annoyed him even more.

“Oh, so you’re defending Brad over me?”

“If you’re being an asshole, then yes” she had replied, and disappeared to get a drink.

He had stamped hard on one of the green balloons, recoiling slightly at the gunshot sound as it burst under his foot.

 

After it was all over, the trips to the psychiatrist began. Every session had been impossibly awkward, you just couldn’t reason with the guy. He had seemed so sure that James was innocent and so desperate to make him normal again. For James it had made him doubt what he knew about the events of that night. Some of the things the psychiatrist said had filtered through and taken root though. Things about moving on, making friends, exploring love interests, gaining a new focus. He’d heard those words in his head the first evening he met Nancy, and then again the other week when he ran into her again and suggested they give it another try.

 

The doorbell rang and James raced through. He saw Nancy on the screen and buzzed her up. She was looking incredible, as always, in a cute flowery dress, cut pretty short with her long legs stretching down to some mean heels.

By now Adam had joined him in blowing up balloons and Nancy came and sat with them as they worked.

James watched as she chattered away charmingly about friends and travels and art and music. She was so effortlessly perfect, he could just watch her forever. She told them about her rich uncle in the music industry, and told them stories about glamorous parties around swimming pools with beautiful dresses and intricate canapes served by waiters in immaculate outfits. Then whenever you spoke to her, her eyes lit up and followed every word you said, as if this was the most important news she’d heard all week.

There was a pause in conversation and he asked if she wanted to help tie the balloons, offering her an inflated but not yet tied balloon.

Without speaking, she raised one hand, displaying a set of long decorated fingernails, and eyed him sceptically.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He looked at the clock. People would be here in the next three hours and there still felt like loads that needed doing.

“Well, how about helping with putting the balloons up” James asked.

There was a pause.

“Babe” she said, more sharply than before. “I have £400 heels on. They weren’t made for climbing on chairs and putting up children party balloons”.

Adam got up, clearly feeling the tension. “I’m just going to put some of these up in the hall” he said, grabbing a few balloons.

“Look I’m sorry this is just a regular house party and, like, Cameron Diaz isn’t going to show up, but can’t you take off your diamond studded slippers for a bit and help?”

She gave him a filthy look. Maybe he had crossed a line, but why couldn’t she just muck in? Couldn’t she see he was getting stressed? He refused to back down, instead holding her stare.

“You know what?” she said, getting to her feet. “Fuck you, and fuck your party. And fuck your stupid intimacy issues. I’ve had enough”.

This felt horribly awkward with Adam right outside. “Babe…”

“Don’t call me babe” she said. “In fact, don’t call me”.

She disappeared out into the hallway towards the front door.

“Goodbye Adam” he heard her say, calmly. “Your ass looks great in those jeans by the way.”

The front door swiftly shut and all that was left was her perfume lingering in the air.

She was right of course. Compared to her life, this party was pathetic. He was pathetic. Whatever made him think he deserved someone like her?

James was sitting on the sofa staring into space as Adam came through and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Coffee?”

 

Ali and Daniel came across early to help them finish up preparing, and in half an hour everything was party-ready, so they grabbed a beer and all relaxed on the giant sofa.

“So when’s this new lady friend coming over?” Ali asked James.

He couldn’t find the words, but Adam stepped in quickly and gently explained to them about Nancy and that she was now unlikely to make an appearance.

Daniel, who had seemed quiet up to that point, sat up and pulled out his phone. “Well, since we’re sharing bad news, I might as well get this one in the open”. He passed the phone across for James and Adam to see.

There was a message on the screen from Daniel’s boyfriend Carl. James had met him once at the Loom Inn, the day of the football trouble.

Don’t think its workin out lets call it a day yeah c u round

Adam raised his eyebrows. “That was it?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s such a twat” Ali summarised.

Adam smiled. “This is turning out to be an awesome day for a party then”.

 

By 9pm, the party was in full swing. The beer was flowing, friends were mixing successfully, and their crafted playlist of 90s hits was taking James back to a time when life was happy and simple and normal.

Adam came over and stood with him at the breakfast bar.

“We did it” Adam said smiling and clinked his beer bottle with James’.

“It’s a pretty cool party eh? Hey, who’s the guy in the corner talking to Ali?”

Adam looked over.

“Oh, that’s Thomas. Friend of Cameron’s, you know, the guy who runs the Loom Inn? I know him a bit from there, and Ali knows him a bit. I didn’t really think he’d come to be honest.”

James nodded. As he looked round the room he realised that most of the people there were friends of Adam’s, or joint friends at best. How could he feel like a stranger at his own flat warming party?

 

By 11pm a few people started to head off, and they found themselves down to the last ten or so.

Ali emerged back from a trip to the bathroom clutching a box in her hand.

“Who’s up for Twister” she said, with drunken enthusiasm.

“Where did you find that?” Adam asked.

“It was just lying around” she said evasively.

“It was hidden under a box, under my bed” Adam said shaking his head.

“Not hidden well enough then” she said grinning back and opened it up, spreading the mat across the floor.

James went across and grabbed another bottle each of red and white wine.

“Ok, James then, you’ve got right foot yellow”.

He eyed her cynically. “Really? We’re really playing Twister?”

She stared defiantly at him. “Right foot. Yellow.”

“Fine. My day can’t get any more ridiculous”. He put down his wine and obligingly placed his right foot on the appropriate coloured dot. Mindless things at least distracted him from other thoughts.

“Good. Right, Daniel”. She flicked the spinner. “Left hand blue”.

He followed the direction, squatting to place his left hand on the dot. “I’m down and I’m blue”.

“I’ll drink to that” Thomas said on the sidelines, mainly to himself, but everybody else in the room with a drink in their hand seemed to simultaneously raise their glasses.

“Right” Ali continued. “Sam, are you in?”

James looked over to the young guy who had been dating Adam’s ex flatmate.

“Way over my head.”

“Ok, well, you’re right hand yellow.”

He downed half a glass of wine and then took position.

Lisa, a girl who used to work at the University with them, was last to engage, and in a few moves each, they were quickly intertwined. Daniel wobbled behind James’ rear as he tried to shift his left arm from red to green. He brushed it on the rebalance.

“Shit, sorry.” Daniel said quickly. “Inadvertent bum touch.”

“Hey, don’t worry man. I’ll take the action where I can.”

Daniel laughed. “Tell me about it. Who needs relationships anyway when you have twister?”

“Sam, right hand red.”

“I am so over relationships” Sam said, chipping in. “Especially with possibly psychotic fraudsters”.

“Wow, sounds like I need to hear that story” Lisa said.

“James, left leg red.”

“You know all I was saying was she could relax a bit more. I mean, like, Lisa would you be offended if I asked you to take your shoes off?”

“Lisa, right foot red.”

“They’re already off” Lisa replied.

“No, that’s not really what I meant...”

“Daniel, right hand green.”

Daniel tried to reach across but slipped, falling into the others, and the inevitable human collision followed.

 

By 2am, only Thomas, Ali and Daniel remained as well as James and Adam. All were slumped back on and around the sofa. The room was a mess of empty glasses and the remains of popped balloons and discarded party whistles. The empty twister mat had been shoved unwanted to the side of the kitchen.

James looked around at the others. Thomas was staring hypnotically at a small amount of port at the end of his glass that he was swilling round and round. Adam was next to him, lying back on the sofa with his eyes closed. Not asleep, but not fully awake. Ali was over on the armchair, staring into space, occasionally turning her head around the room to glance at the state of the place. Daniel was sitting on the floor, leaning against the armchair. He had his eyes shut, and was letting Ali give him a half-hearted head massage.

Thomas stirred. “I should probably head home and leave you guys to party.”

James laughed. “Right, yeah, this is party central.”

Adam sat up. “No” he said, waving away the idea. “Stay and enjoy the circus of misery”

Ali picked up one of the balloons resting at the side of the sofa and started to laugh. Everybody glanced up at her.

“Who the fuck bought these?” she asked, holding up the ‘Let’s Celebrate’ balloon. “I mean do any of us here have a single thing to celebrate after these last few weeks?”

Adam glanced at the balloon and a smile crept onto his face.

“Ok, I’ll go.” He reached down for his glass and took a sip. “Well, I would like to celebrate being ridiculously blind and naïve, failing to notice that my Harry-Potter-lookalike flatmate, who I saw and spoke to every day for six months, was an evil genius and has managed to disappear, never to be seen again, having built up thousands of pounds of debt in my name.”

 

James thought back to that afternoon in the coffee shop with Adam’s ex-flatmate.

“I know all about you Allerton” Paul had opened. “I know exactly what you did to your girlfriend and your best friend. You know you really shouldn’t leave your emails open where there are prying eyes”.

“What the hell is this?” he had asked. He just wanted to forget that stuff.

That smile on Paul’s face. “I think we could help each other out”.

 

James patted Adam on the shoulder. “He fooled everyone man. I only wish there was some way I could help”.

His insides churned as he said the words. He was lying to the closest friend he had. For a second he thought he saw a look pass from Ali to Daniel. Could they tell something was wrong from the way he said it? Part of him wished they did knew, that everyone knew. He didn’t deserve secrets.

Adam raised a glass. “So a toast to my dear flatmate conman”

Ali gave a wry smile, and cleared her throat. “Harry Plotter”.

 

“Okay, my turn then”, Ali said, being next in the circle.

“Here’s to a week when our politicians finally caved in, leaving us, the environmentally concerned citizens powerless to stop plans for the airport extension, which will condemn our city to environmental ruin, and pour another centimetre of water onto our already high global sea levels, that they might drown us all.”

“To bloodsucking developers” Thomas suggested, raising his glass.

“And to screwing the world for a quick buck” Ali concluded. James raised his glass with the others and they drank. More alcohol helped.

 

The room was quiet for a moment. Daniel took a second to realise they were all looking at him.

“Oh, right, me now?” He took a sip of wine. “Ok, well I got dumped by text message today. I don’t know, I might have mentioned it already?” He glanced up at the sympathetic smiles. Daniel seemed like such a nice guy, he deserved better.

Ali’s touched the side of his head with her hand.

“Seriously, a text message. I mean, he didn’t even use punctuation”.

“Guys are shit” Adam said, consolingly.

Daniel stared down into his glass, weighing something up.

“You know what’s really shit though, is trying to date like, top guys. Like…” he paused, trying to find the right word, “…like more dominant type guys”.

He said it quickly, and then looked up cautiously to see the reaction, obviously unsure whether he was crossing a boundary here. James was fixated on him, that controlled, concentrated honesty.

“Cos you see, I can’t help that I’m attracted to guys like that. It’s just me, it’s who I am. But I’m also a smart guy, and a sensitive guy, and so I can’t have a meaningful relationship with someone unless they’re, you know, sort of, on my intellectual level. And the problem is that all the dom guys I meet seem to be, kind of, morons or psychopaths…”

“Carl was a moron” Ali chipped in.

“Welcome to the five-months-too-late-agony-aunt, thanks for coming” he said with a smile, turning his head to look up at her. She threw up her hands in playful defeat.

“…and then all the intelligent, interesting, could-go-somewhere guys that I meet are, well, you know, just not…” he gritted his teeth together and gestured with his hands.

“rough enough?” James suggested.

Daniel looked across, slightly bashfully.

He cleared his throat. “Well, umm, yeah, that”. Their eyes connected for a second and James felt like he understood the guy completely.

“I swear” Adam said, grinning, “for a city built around the textile industry, this place is useless for boyfriend material”.

Ali shook her head and threw a party whistle at him.

“So, to smart and rough boyfriends” she suggested, her glass held aloft.

“Yeah, and to them being single and looking for a cute art teacher” Daniel said, and he led the drinking.

 

Thomas looked at the expectant eyes which had turned to him next.

“Oh god, you don’t want to hear all my secrets.”

Ali looked sternly at him. “Play the game Mr politician”

He smiled. “Ok fine. Well actually it’s Mr soon-to-be-ex-politician”. He took a deep breath. “I guess it turns out that I’m a less convincing public speaker than I thought, and by trying and failing to overthrow our hopeless leaders, I’ve thrown away eight years of investment in a political career in about eight impetuous weeks. Now everybody is predicting that there’s going to be a Labour whitewash at the elections and the Lib Dems will lose a lot of seats, including mine.”

“You stood up for what you believed in though” Adam said. “That’s worth something”.

“Yeah, and you kicked ass in that radio interview at the airport protest. We need people like you”.

Thomas smiled gratefully.

“The truth is, it turns out that I’m suddenly in my mid-thirties and I realise I’ve never made time or effort to have a serious relationship. In fact the only man I’ve ever been able to see myself with currently lives on the other side of the world with his Australian boyfriend. And when you reach this age, the gay world stops taking an interest in you. Nobody wants a worn out old bear”.

James watched his expression. He spoke in an offhand manner, but the sadness and regret was impossible to mask. Why did life do this to people?

Like the others, James lacked the experience to know how to respond, and so they all sat in silence. He hadn’t ever thought about being in his mid-thirties; about what happened next. It seemed such a long way off, like everything important would be sorted out by then. Like he would no longer be this person that he hated by that age. But what happened if he still was?

Thomas was giving him a strange look and he realised he’d been staring for too long.

“Why are you a bear?” James asked, diverting attention.

Daniel laughed. “A bear just means a well-built gay guy who’s very hairy”.

James nodded, appearing to reflect on this.

“Although if he’s in his twenties, he’s probably a cub” Daniel continued.

“You have to check their age before you decide which animal they are?” Ali added.

“Yeah” Adam replied. “That happens at gay initiation college, year one.”

James smiled, despite himself. “So what other animals can you be?”

“You can be an otter” Ali suggested.

“I think that’s like a tall, slim, hairy guy?” Daniel suggested, looking to Adam for confirmation.

“So, wait, what if you’re not hairy?” James asked.

Ali, Daniel and Adam all looked at each other blankly.

“I don’t know” Daniel said. “What animals aren’t hairy?”

Thomas coughed.

“Oh right” Ali said, cutting them off. “Back to Thom”.

They all turned back.

“So I was saying, when you reach this age, the gay world stops taking an interest in what you’re saying…”

“Oh come on…” Ali said laughing, “enough with the self-pity.”

Thomas grinned.

“I don’t know. Maybe life is just supposed to start getting quieter at my age. Maybe I need to find some hobbies and stop trying to work so hard. Accept that I’m not good enough to be a politician and find something a bit more in line with my abilities”.

James shook his head. “Life can be whatever you want it to be man, whenever you want it to be. Sure, you can take the easy route and do whatever society tells you, but that doesn’t mean it’s right for you”. The psychiatrist might as well have been right there in the room with them.

Thomas nodded uncertainly. “Ok, well here’s to not always taking the easy route.”

“To being a maverick” Ali said, and they all raised their glasses and drank.

 

All eyes turned to James, the last in the circle.

“That just leaves one then” Adam said, “flatmate?”

James shrugged his shoulders but felt a tightness in his chest.

Part of him wanted to say it, admit it. At least then he could stop pretending he was one of them, make them realise he wasn’t their peer or equal, or even worth kicking dirt at. He couldn’t say it though.

“Ok, well how about I’m a crap boyfriend who can’t hold down a relationship for more than a few days with this girl that I’m totally frigging crazy about, and who is so far out of my league it hurts.

Adam touched his arm. “To train-wreck relationships all round?” Adam said, raising his glass for the last time.

“And to a total crap-package of a month” Thomas seconded, smiling, and they all reached in, clinked their glasses, and downed the contents.

James swallowed down the rest of his wine with a lump in his throat.