‘Aye, sure.’ I see it. Brian’s eyes crease at the corners, a flicker of concern. It only lasts until he blinks then he’s restored to his usual self.
Before, with Leanne, his tone was authoritative; it carried his voice through the walls of his private space. Now we can hear nothing, which gives me time to worry that Diane is in there asking Brian questions about me, my behaviours, if he’s noticed anything unusual about me. This is information I have not allocated in Brian’s diary. Without any little fictions left for him, what would he say?
Gavin is in a frivolous mood. They pick up their mug, point to Brian’s office and mouth,I’m going to listen in. They stand with their back against the wall, next to Brian’s door.
‘He’s asking if the house the dead guy was found in is being released so he can sell it.’ They strain their ear closer. ‘No is the answer. She wants to know if Brian knows someone. Can’t make out the name. He says he’s no idea who she’s talking about. Now she’s asking if she can see his car.’
That is surely something to do with Paula. I miss a bit of what Gavin is saying, too concerned about it only being a matter of time before they figure out it’s me. When I pick back up, they’re whispering, ‘He lied. Said he doesn’t have the work car today, but I definitely saw it in its usual spot.’ I did, too. The only reason I can fathom him lying to a police officer is that he’s not wanting Diane to root about in his gym bag of sex stuff, which isn’t very sexually liberated of him.
‘Jesus, she’s asking about his online presence.’
Matters having moved onto an area Brian is enthusiastic about, he’s louder, more like his usual self. I hear him respond, ‘You a fan, aye? In your line of work, long retirement and that, getting a few rental properties locked in would be a wise investment.’
Gavin rolls their eyes and removes themself from the wall, taking their cup through to the kitchen and returning with a fresh coffee just as Diane is leaving Brian’s office. Hearing the activity behind me, I begin putting random figures into a spreadsheet to appear unfazed by being in close proximity to a woman who has the legal power to lock me away forever.
Brian and Diane do their farewell in front of my desk. ‘Always here if you need me.’ The whole time he’s speaking I can hear him fidgeting with the loose change in his pocket. ‘Anything to help the boys in blue.’ I’m trying to decide if the police uniform is actually a dark navy or black, when Diane turns around and does a Columbo.
‘Just one more thing. You were pals with William McAllister, weren’t you?’
‘Aye. Why?’
‘That’s what I thought. Wanted to be sure. Thanks.’
Once the detective is safely away, Brian says, to either himself or me and Gavin, it’s not clear which, ‘What a fucking day this has been, and it’s no’ even lunch.’
He’s not wrong. I click out of Reddit. It’s some bloody day.
37
The next day, as Gavin and I walk to the rescheduled union meeting, seems as good a time as any to let Gavin know our period of working together will be, well, could be, coming to an end. We’re holding hands, and I’m surprised as I always am at the size of their palm in mine. That it’s possible to take up so much space is foreign to me; I think I would like it.
To get us onto the topic of work, I unsubtly swerve our chat away from trying to remember if the Hamilton Town House Library used to have one or two stuffed cows next to the reference section when we were children. Neither of us is willing to give in to the possibility that we are wrong, and I don’t want a silly argument to be lingering when we see Amara and Nicol. ‘Brian’s been acting a bit funny recently, do you not think?’
‘I would say no funnier than usual.’
‘Maybe spooked from the police bothering him?’
‘I doubt it. The man confidently goes around living a double life that would cause most normal people to crack. That he’s so fine all the time given what he’s up to is the real concern.’
‘I guess that’s the kind of insight I don’t have, won’t ever have when I’m only working there for the short term.’ When they don’t bite to this hint, I continue, ‘Because I’m not going to work there much longer.’
‘Yeah, yeah. I know.’ Gavin’s dismissiveness annoys me but I don’t let on.
‘I have a job interview tomorrow.’ Gavin stops. I get a step ahead of them before my body registers they’re not moving and so I stop, too. ‘Is it really that much of a surprise?’
‘I know it’s not your dream job, but I thought you at least liked being with me all day. I like being with you all day.’ They stumble over that second ‘like’ in a way that makes me wonder if they wanted to say ‘love’ but bottled it. A shame. Coming into this union meeting on the high of having the love between us confirmed would give me an extra boost, but I know the declaration is coming, and even though it hasn’t been said, it doesn’t stop the love already being there between us.
‘I do. Of course I do. If we’re going to last for the long term, which is what we both want – isn’t it?’ A soft smile crosses their lips here. ‘Then we need separate lives. It’s great to be together constantly, but we don’t want to endanger this special connection we have by getting bored with one another.’ I pull them close and kiss them deeply, as if the further my tongue can enter their skull the more sincere what I’ve said is.
We resume our journey with Gavin saying a tirade of things to boost my confidence for my interview under the impression I require them. ‘You are amazing, of course you’ll get it. I mean look at all you’ve achieved at our work, and you hate it – well, our clientele. Not me hopefully.’ They chuckle to themself, but only for as long as it takes for them to get more breath to keep talking. ‘I’m sorry for being a bit miffed you want to move on when you mentioned it. Over the last few days I’ve been thinking quite intensely about what you’ve done for me, for my life, since we met. How what we have has changed so much for me.’
My levels of observation are pretty good, I think, yet I’m struggling to pull from my brain what exactly it is Gavin is going on about. ‘Really?’
‘Absolutely. I want you to know I see you and what you’ve done for me and I am so grateful for it all.’ We stop outside the entrance to the block of flats Amara and Nicol live in, then they hold my shoulders at arm’s length and say, eyeballing me the entire time, ‘Thank you. For everything.’
All I can offer in response is, ‘You’re welcome.’
Locating the intercom takes a second. I’ve Google Street Viewed this building more times than I can count, imagining the two of them laughing together about what a stupid piece of shit I am, but the picture clarity on Google wasn’t high enough to know exactly which button is theirs. Some flats have tiny slips of paper with last names of the occupants on them next to their buzzer. Their flat, the penthouse no less, has no such information attributed to it. There is meaning in that I’m sure, but there isn’t time to find it. As soon as I buzz we’re permitted entry, no questions asked.
