The call buzzed in his ears for the whole stretch home, a relentless hum like a fly you cant shoo away with a wave or a shout. He sat in the cramped carriage of the train, staring out at the darkened window where his own gaunt reflection stared back, feeling anger and doubt settle inside him like lead, squeezing his throat with cold, iron fingers.
It all began on an unremarkable Friday that has since been painted in his mind with bleak, funeralblack tones. His brother, Victor Hayes, a plainspoken, straightforward man, slipped a slowacting poison into his life with a single conversation, and now, back from the journey, the world he once knew refused to slip back into its familiar, beloved shape.
When he finally stepped onto the chilly balcony of his flat, elbows on the railings, he was ready to leave. The navy suit fit him perfectly, the tie knotted without a flaw, and two West End theatre tickets rested in the inner pocket of his jacket. A cigarette, burnt down in nervous anticipation, lay stale in the heavy glass ashtray, crumbling to ash that mirrored his current mood. Inside, Eleanor was still in the bedroom, behind a closed door. He could hear the soft rustle of her dress and the light tread on the parquet. When she finally appeared in the doorway, illuminated by the warm glow of a crystal chandelier, he momentarily forgot everythingVictors whispering, the gnawing worm of jealousy. She was as dazzling as ever. Losing her would be like choosing to live without sunlight, consigning himself to an endless, cold winter.
Eleanor, were going to be latehow long are you going to dawdle? he asked, his impatience edged with the bitter bitterness he had been trying to hide.
She slipped onto the balcony, that familiar mischievous smile playing on her lips, the one that used to drive him mad.
Look, James, your favourites, she chirped, eyes sparkling with merriment.
Gracefully, almost like a ballerina, Eleanor lifted one leg from beneath her evening dress, revealing delicate scarlet pumps perched on a thin, almost invisible heel.
I kept them hidden in the back of the wardrobe, promised myself I wouldnt wear them until my main audience returned home, she said, as if reading his dark thoughts, casting the comment as a protective charm, a proof of her loyalty and love.
He watched her in silence, while the echo of Victors unsure, mumbling voice reverberated in his mind.
Shes been turning up there far too often the voice lingered, merging with the citys din.
Later, behind the wheel of his car, feeling the familiar roughness of the steering wheel under his palm, James replayed that fateful conversation again. Victor, after a series of idle questions about work, had suddenly gone quiet, then started uttering vague, drawnout sounds, in which a single name slipped like a shard of glassEleanor.
Spill it all, stop dragging it out! James snapped, exhausted by the heavy pauses that hinted at something unpleasant.
Victor, gathering his courage as if diving off a cliff into icy night water, blurted that Eleanor had started visiting Simon Clarkea bearded, longhaired advocate of a trendy healthy lifestyle and all the latest spiritual practicesfar too often.
James laughed loudly into the receiver, relieved.
I know that backyard philosopher! He has three little ones he chases around like a mad hen, a private house, a garden, a whole farm Thats not our city hustle. Youd do better watching your own wife than some strangers!
Victor, voice hoarse, whispered in guiltladen tones:
My sister Megan also went to his sessions for a while. Now she says Simon isnt as simple as he looks. Hes been making advances on her, using some joint meditation, some babaguru nonsense Hes giving her obvious signs of interest.
The raw honesty in Victors whisper made Jamess bravado crumble. Long business trips, an empty house, his frequent absencessuddenly a nasty little crack appeared in his seemingly solid world, a worm of doubt crawling in.
Victor, gaining confidence, told him that Eleanor visited Simon three or four times a week, as if it were a job. In all that time she hadnt once checked on his elderly mother who lived in the same town. Their son had become a regular, welcome guest in Simons incensefilled home.
His minds sharp, he knows psychology well, Victor pressed. I tried to confront him, but he looked at me with such smart eyes, said I should feel ashamed of my rustic suspicions. Maybe nothings happening, but look how the women stare at himmouths agape, entranced.
What do they stare at? James asked quietly, feeling the solid ground under his feet give way, his heart beating with a painful tremor.
Ive given you all the facts I have, Victor said gravely. Ive already told our mad sister to stay home. Its up to you now, brother, what youll do with this. Ive done my part.
Paranoia rose in James, and he made one last desperate attempt to bring things back to normal. So you think Eleanors going to Simon for blackmagic sessions or a fling? You always see the worst in everything.
The tiny, lethal parasite of doubt that the Friday call had planted remained alive, lurking deep within his consciousness, stinging him with a minute, poisonous jab. He glanced at his wifes clear profile, illuminated by the flickering lights of the evening city, and was horrified to think he was looking at a strangerbeautiful, mysterious, someone he no longer trusted. In three days he would have to leave again
Yes, I was a fool, James muttered, feeling shame flush his cheeks. He leaned over and kissed Eleanors forehead, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and gently urged him toward the door.
Come on, open up! Megan doesnt like waiting long at the doorstep.
Megan and Victor were wrestling with the open boot of their aging sedan, trying to pull out huge wicker baskets brimming with rosy apples. Their autumn harvest came from their own countryside garden, a tradition the family shared each season.
You take forever to get out, Megan teased, handing him the tiniest, neatest basket clearly meant for Eleanor. Cant you tear yourself away from your beauty?
She gave him a lingering look, asking why hed returned from his assignment so early. James couldnt quite untangle his own tangled emotions. The earlier fury, that selfinflamed resentment, had faded, yet the peace he longed for was still out of reach. A kaleidoscope of feelings swirled inside him, making him feel like a tiny leaf caught in a sudden, powerful whirlpool, spinning helplessly in dark water, unable to break free into a calm stream. One thing was now crystal clear: Victors accusations were baseless, born from Jamess own jealous imagination.
With a nearanimal fear, James waited for the dreaded conversation about Simon to start againafter all, his wifes sister Megan had once tried to trap Victor. He hoisted the biggest basket onto his hip and marched toward the entrance.
Alright, folks, lets get moving, dont dawdle! she called over her shoulder, her tone carrying a familiar commanding edge. Chat a bit more, youll have time.
For a while the men stood in heavy silence, each waiting for the other to break it. Then Victor slammed the boot shut and produced a crumpled pack of cigarettes.
Wanna try some proper American smokes? he asked, flashing a forced nonchalance. Ive got a whole unopened pack from a colleagues trip.
No thanks, Ive got my own, James replied dryly, pulling out his own pack.
Victor took a deep drag, letting a plume of smoke drift into the cool evening air. You know, about eightyfive percent of divorces are blamed on womenusually because of some petty cheating
He fell silent, and James thought he might finally be left alone. Yet Victor, seizing the moment, leaned in again, whispering fragmented, dark tidbits about himself, the supposed rival, and his own spotless innocence from the poisonous doubts hed sowed. He was as pushy and eloquent as ever, listing his crimes against the alleged adulteress, then zeroing in on the most scandalous point.
People have no conscience, Victor declared, clapping his hands on his thighs and leaning toward James. Your Eleanor was seen riding around town with that longbearded devil, in your very own car! And she didnt shy away from taking little Buddy with her. Hes only two years old!
She took Buddy for a massage, James managed through clenched teeth. He had a leg problem that wouldnt heal, and Simon a good bonesetter knows a lot about such healthnut types.
A thick, oppressive silence fell between them, heavier than any argument Victor had ever thrown. He still gestured wildly, but now his movements lacked the earlier vigor, more like a man shielding himself from an invisible threat.
In that hush James remembered the frantic day hed driven back to his hometown, jealousy gnawing at him, and without stopping at his flat, hed bolted for the outskirts, to a place called Kinsley Grove, where a modest but tidy house belonging to Simon stood amidst almost fairytale gardens. At the station, buying his ticket, he hadnt planned such a rash movehe wanted to think, to be calm, not to cut something that had taken years to build. Yet once in the taxi, something inside him snapped; he blurted the address to the driver, gripping the bunch of house keys in his pocket like a lifeline.
A tall, slender woman with tired but kind brown eyes opened the door. She smiled calmly and said the wife was out, and she didnt know when shed return. She explained that her husband had left early that morning with a young mother to see a wellknown healera specialist trying to fix their childs congenital dislocation. The woman sighed softly, admitting shed long since given up on her husbands eccentricities. Hes a softhearted fellow, always ready to help, even if he sometimes neglects his own children
Im not arguing with you, Victor finally muttered, stepping back under Jamess probing stare. You can say what you likeshes his legal wife. Did you check it yourself? Did you look?
I did, James said quietly, chewing his lip as if tasting the bitterness of recent events, then added with a deep, heartfelt tone: Now Im about to give you a proper shove, Victor. Its time.
Youre cursing now? Victor asked, halfdefensive, halffrightened. Dont be angry, brother. I told the whole truth what I saw, I said. Now you see it for yourself, and you can finally rest easy.
James gave no reply. He stood listening to the distant city hum, feeling the last tension slowly leave his body. He no longer regretted his recent, stormy, nervous adventure. He had lived these years in quiet confidence, believing his world solid, only to discover that peace is fragile, ghostly, and can shatter like glass, slipping through fingers like sand. This time, though, he escaped unscathed. Thank heavens. The lesson was bitter, the price highburnt, torn by that blackFriday of nervesbut now happiness seemed within reach. He believed that.
The true insight he carried home was simple: trust built on suspicion crumbles faster than any storm, but honesty, even when painful, rebuilds a foundation that can endure.
