Hamish and Kate Read online

  He assumed it was an exaggeration, his friends and work-mates loved to share the dangers of winter living and he was the overawed newcomer who could not disagree. People love to share the dangers they take for granted and live with every day. He did the same, nonchalantly talking of large white-pointed sharks and summer swimming.

  Euan negotiated his way across a small snow-covered courtyard to another building that had a shower, where he could change for his lunchtime run with Hamish. He was already addicted to running, but his compulsion had a positive effect. His all-afternoon and evening weariness left him mildly euphoric. Such that he did not worry about Kate and Helen, and he accepted, and enjoyed, the constant Clare.

  Euan changed and then met Hamish in Water Street. Hamish ran from the USGS, often via a circuitous route to get the main part of his exercise completed. He would then jog at Euan’s slower pace, return to Woods Hole with Euan and then run back to the USGS on his own.

  The two men met, with a single word of greeting, then set off side by side out of the village. Euan concentrated fully on his footfalls as they ran through the woods. He was peripherally aware of the beauty of his surroundings but dare not slacken his attention. He watched his feet and was aware of knowing where his footfall would be three or four steps ahead, but no further. It helped him avoid obstacles along the path, although Hamish seemed to ignore where his feet fell. Euan assumed it was part of the set of running skills he would acquire over time.

  Hamish liked to talk during the run, Euan suspected he was showing off that he was unstressed at Euan’s pace. Euan could listen but not participate, he had insufficient breath.

  ‘I do longer runs on the weekend,’ Hamish said.

  Euan grunted.

  ‘About at this pace, nice and easy, but I go much further,’ he said. ‘I’ve even had thoughts of maybe competing in a marathon.’

  Hamish laughed. ‘But I haven’t been able to get anywhere near that distance. I might have to shelve that idea for awhile. Maybe until well after the winter.’

  They ran on silently for awhile.

  ‘Winter can have it’s problems ‘though,’ Hamish said. ‘I mean for running. On the longer runs you have to worry about your dick getting frostbitten.’

  Euan lost his footing momentarily, as he laughed.

  ‘No, No!’ Hamish said as he also laughed. ‘I’m totally serious.’

  ‘What?’ Euan struggled to say.

  ‘I haven’t had frostbite, not yet, but I’ve come close on those long runs and really cold mornings. It just goes numb and you never know. You have to take a glove off every now and then, no need to stop running of course,’ Hamish turned his head and grinned at Euan.

  ‘Unless,’ Hamish continued. ‘You don’t feel anything. Then you need to stop and do some warming work. Potential embarrassment if you’re discovered in the woods.’

  ‘I reckon,’ Euan tried to agree. He did not know if Hamish was being serious or not. It may be another of those stories meant to scare the newcomer to real winter. Euan surreptitiously felt between his legs and was relieved that he registered the sensation of his hand.

  Hamish noticed and laughed. ‘It’s for real, mate. A hot shower afterwards can be quite painful. Not to mention thinking about your wife, I can tell you that from experience.’

  Euan was shocked. He had not thought of that. Not ever. He lost concentration. He was no longer running. He was thinking of Hamish and Kate. His feet slipped and he tumbled sideways into the snow. He hoped he was seriously injured and Hamish would leave him there.

  Kate had been an abstract problem to be solved, like a platonic reality, separate, something to be discovered. But Kate was real, and she was living with Hamish. She was married to Hamish. She had a current life, a life after Euan. Perhaps she enjoyed that life. He had truly not thought of that.

  He lay prostrate, covered in sadness and snow. He thought of Clare, how he loved the old Clare but not the current one. Kate thought the same, she must. She had loved him but no longer did. He had given up music and Helen, absolutely convinced that Kate reciprocated his affection and always would. He giggled a little maniacally as he thought “recipro-Kated”, as if it was an injury that she had done to him. As pain washed though his body, he shivered with the sadness of just desserts. He had treated others badly, although not maliciously since he had loved Clare and Helen. His actions were symptomatic of childish, immature behaviour. He deserved punishment.

  Kate was at the top of the relationship hierarchy. She had taught him a lesson and he saw a life ahead for him of having to settle for second-best.

  He got to his feet, with assistance from Hamish, who had been concerned but laughed once Euan had been dusted off and had shown that he was not damaged physically.

  Euan ran slowly back to Woods Hole. He showered and changed. He retraced his steps across the frozen courtyard. He halted at the bottom of the steps, contemplating his ascent and return to work. It all seemed so futile. His current life was pointless. In the few seconds it had taken him to cross to the concrete steps his wet hair had frozen. He grabbed a lock and snapped off an end. He stared at the frozen, detached hair in his hand.

  ‘Living in this place is fucking ridiculous,’ he thought angrily.

  Chapter 8

  Euan became distracted and dissatisfied in the days following his fall. He felt trapped. There was no future, at least none he was interested in living. He wondered how to escape without, again, disappointing people he cared for but he could see no way out. He would live an unsatisfied life with Clare while being near Kate but never in contact. That life would kill him.

  He did not enjoy his runs, his melancholy negating the euphoria. He skipped lunchtimes giving weak reasons for his absence. He slipped into surly evening moods. Never angry at Clare, never argumentative, just uninterested. She noticed a pattern. His lack of exercise was correlated with his mood. She discussed Euan with Hamish who reassured her it was normal for the addicted runner. Hamish was quietly proud of himself and what he had done to Euan. He could only see the positives in addiction.

  Kate had quizzed Hamish about Euan. She knew of their friendship, she knew of his fall and understood the reason, she knew of his ugly moods and believed she knew why. However, she was baffled by Euan’s resumed relationship with Clare. That confused her.

  She would not act on Euan’s proximity, as Euan had also not acted, but for a different reason. Fidelity as opposed to procrastination and fear of embarrassment.

  It took a death to change that.

  Chapter 9

  Euan made plans. Not physical preparations, but blueprints of ideas how to extricate himself from Woods Hole. He enjoyed that and his evening moods brightened. It was as if he had an intractable physics problem that required a long and intricate cogitation to solve.

  Euan’s improved mood led him to agree to Clare’s suggestion that they spend evenings at his home. It made sense, she said. They could be together, and she could work while he played guitar. He need not transport his one guitar to her home and, also, not spend evenings apart because he wanted to practice. It made perfect sense to Euan.

  They would leave to go to work at the same time in the morning. A few of those mornings Euan waved enthusiastically to Edith who happened to be outside. She smiled and waved back. Euan assumed his landlady would only respond to a grievance from others. He liked her all the more for her inaction.

  On a weekend morning, while Clare was still in bed, he walked to Main Street, Falmouth to buy a newspaper. He was in a distracted mood as he thought through his problem on how to leave Woods Hole with dignity. He smiled as he realised the circular nature of his difficulty. While he had an intractable problem to solve, he was in a better mood and felt less inclined to leave.

  He could make do, he thought for the first time. That was a possible solution as well. He could forget Kate, or at least try. He might be able to love Clare again. He had once done so, it may be again possible. He had already disappointed Helen and Mic
hael, that bridge could remain burnt. He missed playing music and although ensemble playing had been a recent addition, he enjoyed the thrill of performance. However, he justified, all performance careers came to an end. Maybe his was over early, in which case it was simply a matter of adjusting. All lives are lived with regret. It is only if that regret consumes a life that it becomes delinquent.

  Euan walked along Main Street, unaware of his location, performing the automated action of most Saturday mornings as he sauntered into town and home again. He decided he would accept what he had lost and embrace what he had. His problems dissolved. With one logical decision he cut his Gordian Knot.

  His reveries were broken when he heard a voice calling his name from the opposite side of the street. Joan was waving at him, making a spectacle of herself. She was calling out for him to stay where he was. Euan looked around, worried at embarrassment but there were few passers-by that early in the morning. He thought of escape, he thought of simulated deafness, he thought of staring at her then pointedly ignoring her. He did none of those things. He stopped walking and waited, as if he had been fairly captured and no escape was gentlemanly feasible.

  Joan walked purposively across the road. She stared at the young man, only taking her eyes off him to quickly scan both ways for approaching cars. She eventually stood silently before him as if he had been caught performing a despicable action of wilful intent. Euan quietly accepted his silent punishment. He thought he knew what was to come, although he only had to endure Joan for a moment and then he could ignore her. The consequences of Joan’s anger at Euan’s neglect of her complaint to Edith would be minor. He may have to move out but he no longer cared. His life was with Clare and they would want a larger place of their own anyway. Joan and her moral indignation was irrelevant.

  Euan passingly thought of abusing her. She was a silly old lady, interfering in other’s lives.

  ‘I want to have a word with you,’ Joan said, once the silent stare had lasted long enough for Joan to communicate her displeasure. Her voice spoke with an authority she did not have.

  Euan remained silent.

  ‘Well?’ she asked, indignant at his silence, as if her intent and outrage had been discussed. ‘What have you to say for yourself?’

  Euan smiled, it was a nervous reaction at an embarrassing moment. He looked behind before he replied quietly.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean, Joan,’ he said.

  ‘You know exactly what I mean,’ she said quickly and shook a finger at his chest. He thought she was about to poke him as a physical assault. Euan’s smile was incompletely restrained from turning to laughter, as he thought of being attacked by Joan’s finger.

  ‘I have to keep going Joan,’ Euan said and backed away from her. He thought of adding, ‘because I have a sleeping, naked, unmarried woman in my bed.’ However he said nothing.

  ‘Goodbye,’ Euan said, he was dismissive. ‘I’ll see you later on.’ He turned away from Joan and resumed his journey to buy a newspaper.

  Joan was immediately forgotten, even a busybody could not destroy the euphoria of epiphany.

  Euan jerked his head to the sound of screeching tires responding to locked brakes. A car’s forward momentum was barely checked when Euan saw it plough into Joan. She was thrown onto the hood, her head smashed against the windscreen with a sickening sound. Her rag-doll body slid over the top of the car and fell into a crumpled heap of clothes and angles on the road.

  She had attempted to return to the far side of the road but had neglected to lookout. She was dead before her body re-touched the ground.

  Chapter 10

  Joan’s death pushed Euan into depression. He rejected assistance from Clare. Steve’s ministrations were ignored. He did not go to work, he didn’t play music, he didn’t run. He did nothing but sit in his small home and wait for an unwanted future.

  Clare tried hard to help but after a few days off work, in an attempt to rouse Euan from his lethargy, she absented herself during the day, only coming by in the evening for a few hours. She did not stay overnight. Euan’s unreasonable melancholy was contagious and she doubted her own life when she sat silently with him in the evenings. She decided to wait for a week or two, see what happened and if no natural progression was made she would then call for medical help.

  Euan was intelligent, she thought, he would eventually understand his depression, and logic would return the man she loved.

  Clare told Hamish. Hamish told Kate.

  As he sat, without purpose, inside his home, Euan had no excess energy bar that to breath and stay minimally alive. He wondered where the energy sapping emotion that consumed him came from. His mind tried to fight it, it was illogical, but he failed even after constructing arguments that would have contradicted the most strident opponent. He could, seemingly, do nothing about it. He wondered if perhaps his mind had snapped and this was his new normality. He hoped not, as waves of pointless, unstoppable despair ran through him.

  Each second of every life has consequences for others. Mostly the consequences are unknown. Many paths that led to Joan’s death terminated with Euan’s insignificant action. He had not killed her directly nor, by any stretch of the imagination, could he be held responsible. Many people contributed. The path leading the driver of the car to that moment and place was important but statistically, of diminishing probability. There could be little blame with the driver. Also Joan’s choice to leave home and when, her determination to cross the street to argue with Euan and then return to the other side could not be accorded single significance. As was Clare’s request to resume staying at Euan’s home. All paths to that point in time and place contributed partially.

  However, Euan stood at the centre of his time. He was at that place on the sidewalk in Main Street, Falmouth. He watched Joan cross the street towards him, he knew he was the reason. He could have walked away, gone into a shop, stepped two steps in an arbitrary direction. He could have done anything other than exactly what he did and she would not have died. Not then.

  He had done nothing towards her death, but he had made the final difference.

  Euan heard a tentative knock on his door and ignored it. It would only be Clare or Steve or, maybe, Edith. He wanted to talk to no-one, company was physically repellant.

  The knock repeated and Euan stared at the door as if his eyes could destroy the intended intruder. Then he heard the shuffling sound of someone leaving. He sighed as he let out a breath he had, unwittingly, held in anticipation.

  Euan’s visitor slowly wandered back to their car. They had almost reached it when Steve came out of his home and signalled to the visitor.

  ‘His door’s not locked,’ Steve said. ‘You can just go on in.’

  The visitor returned to Euan’s door. Steve watched on. He smiled and then went inside when the visitor turned to look at him.

  The door still had all of Euan’s attention when he, shockingly, saw it open as if on its own. The door’s alive, he thought with horror.

  Kate entered, shut the door behind her and stared at Euan.

  He did not move from his lounge-chair as he cried with relief and complication.

  Euan’s depression melted overnight. It had been caused by selfish sorrow exacerbated by the witnessed death of another. Kate’s affirmation washed all doubt away.

  He stared at Kate’s sleeping body in the early morning light and smiled as he thought of his frequent voyeuristic pleasure. He resolved to be more honest, once more, in his relationship with others. He would not lose Kate, again.

  She woke and smiled at him.

  Once again, Euan had a disturbing thought, everything was so perfect that it could not possibly last.

  Chapter 11

  Euan returned to work. Kate came to see him late in the morning, to check on his progress.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asked after she had entered his office. The door was open, as was usual when his office was occupied.

  Euan turned to her and smiled. ‘Hi,’ he sa
id. ‘Of course, why not?’

  ‘You were staring out the window,’ she said, a little concerned that his focused attention was a sign of distress.

  Euan laughed. ‘I wasn’t staring out the window,’ he contradicted.

  ‘Yes, you were,’ she said beginning a light-hearted argument.

  ‘No I wasn’t,’ he said.

  Kate laughed. ‘All right then,’ she said. ‘If you weren’t staring out the window then what were you doing?’

  ‘I was working,’ he said and signalled her to sit down in his visitor’s chair.

  ‘They pay you for that?’

  ‘Not much,’ Euan said. ‘But, yes. I was working really hard actually.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Kate said, unconvinced.

  Euan laughed again. ‘I was looking out the window and working, really hard, on this.’ He lifted a sheet of paper from his desk and presented it to her. It was covered in equations.

  He pointed to, what seemed to Kate an arbitrary place in the middle of the mess.

  ‘I’ve got a problem there,’ he said.

  Kate laughed. It was not the sound of an amusement, it was the sound of a woman in love.

  Euan turned his head in response to a sound at his doorway. Hamish stood there.

  ‘I’d heard you were back at work and wondered if you were up to a run,’ he said to Euan but Hamish’s eyes were only for Kate.

  In the second after Hamish had spoken he knew what was happening with more certainty than anything in his life. He wanted to crush Euan. If he had to destroy the world to ensure Euan’s suffering he would do it. Anger consumed him but was quickly swamped and dampened by sadness. He would do nothing, he could do nothing. He loved Kate but she loved Euan, she had possibly always loved Euan. Maybe she had never loved him at all.