News Where You Are

47. Phil, March 2009

He does his second lap of the park. Sweat drips down his back. Adrenalin pumps through him. His eyes flick from side to side; he twitches at every movement in the bushes. His mind is a ticker-tape machine: Now. Or now. Or now … It runs on and on.

He tries not to think of Michelle. He tries not to think of the warmth of her body in bed last night, of her smile this morning as he left the house, but he thinks about them anyway. He’d got it wrong recently — revealed his desperation, gripping her too tightly, scaring her with his intensity. Last night he had the excuse of their anniversary. He kept it simple and honest. He told her she was everything to him and she smiled and relaxed for the first time in weeks. Later at home, she looked at him in a way that made him believe that he was still the man he had been — for a while at least.

He looks at his watch for the hundredth time. Now. Or now … Or when exactly? Where is Mikey? A dog emerges from the bushes and Phil yelps in surprise. He tries to breathe. He’s in control. Everything is under control.

He didn’t linger this morning when he kissed her goodbye, allowing only a brief glance at her eyes. He just smiled, stroked her hair and shouted a breezy, ‘Take care.’

Mikey’s solid, Phil knows that, even after all these years. Something about him has never changed — some quality of self-containment that Phil has always envied. Mikey knew Phil. He knew his weaknesses and still he’d do anything for him. Any minute now. Mikey wouldn’t let him down.