PART 44 – Why Do You Care?
Craig selected the number in his phone and waited patiently whilst the handset produced a ringing noise. As it continued for longer and longer, his hope of his phone call being answered dwindled; he wasn’t entirely surprised when the ringing came to it inevitable end with the beginning of an answer machine message. He quickly hung up, not feeling the need to leave yet another message.
As he held up his mobile to his mouth, he quickly contemplated his next move. Once deciding, he turned his attention back to the phone screen and selected another number; he didn’t have wait so long this time for the ringing to come to an end.
‘Hello?’ came the voice on the other end of the line.
Craig was happy to hear that at least this person wasn’t avoiding his calls.
‘Hannah, hi,’ he greeted her warmly before getting down to the real reason he phoned her.
‘Hello Craig, how are you?’ she asked dutifully.
‘I’m fine,’ he said quickly, trying to rush past the usual phone conversation etiquette.
‘Listen, I’m wondering if you’ve heard from John Paul since the other night?’ he inquired, trying to find a lead to track down his elusive friend.
‘Erm, no actually,’ she confessed as if this had been the first time she had thought about it and realised his absence, ‘Why?’
‘No reason really…’ Of course there was, he was worried by his sudden lack of contact after he had uncharacteristically succumbed to a one night stand the other night.
‘Just need to ask him something about the Stag night,’ he lied, ‘And I cant seem to get a hold of him.’
‘Have you tried his house phone?’ Hannah quizzed him, pointing out the next logical step in Craig’s quest to seek John Paul out.
‘Yeah,’ he answered honestly, ‘But it keeps ringing out.’
‘Well then why don’t you just pop round and see him if it’s urgent, it’s not as if he’s likely to be out, he still doesn’t have a job yet,’ Hannah replied.
Craig raised his eyebrows at Hannah’s harsh reminder of his friend’s current reality, but she had a point, one that he picked up on that he was sure she hadn’t meant. John Paul had nothing right now, or at least plenty of things in his life had disappeared over the last few weeks leaving him with less than he had; no job and nobody to love.
‘Thanks Han,’ Craig said before quickly hanging up on her.
For he really was grateful; she had made him realise that he should be doing something about his worry for his friend because now it seemed he had a lot more to worry about.
*
John Paul sat at his kitchen table as he pressed his finger tips into his temples, hoping that the circular motion that he was creating would kneed away the hangover which was now plaguing him for the second day in a row. However as his eyes wandered down onto the table in front of him, he stopped his effort to relieve any pressure that was building in his head realising that it was futile, after all what was held in the coffee mug in front of him was going to lay the foundations of his third consecutive day of feeling like crap.
He raised his mug to his mouth and drank the vodka that he had poured himself very slowly, kidding to himself that he was easing himself into another days drinking. Yeah John Paul, he sardonically laughed in his own head, drinking straight vodka is taking it slowly, how responsible of you.
With his face contorted by the taste and strength of the alcohol, he sat his mug down onto the table once again and prayed that it would take away the banging sensation in his head.
BANG, BANG, BANG!
John Paul lifted his head from his hands and froze. Had he just heard someone banging or was it merely confined to his head? Surely his hangover wasn’t that bad?
‘Hmm,’ he hummed to himself as he waited for another noise, maybe it was.
Deciding that he needed more alcohol to stifle this ferocious banging in his head, he raised the mug back towards his mouth.
BANG, BANG, BANG!
He looked quickly up again; it was the door after all. Pulling himself away from the table and his comforting drink, reluctantly he made his way through the hall and answered the door.
Craig noticed the door open and felt himself ease up a little; he was convinced that he was being completely ignored the first time his chapping had gone unanswered. He got ready to see his friend emerge by smiling and prepared his greeting, but as the door swung open, it was apparent that no such greeting would take place, since John Paul hadn’t bothered to wait at the door. Warily, Craig made his way through the threshold of his mate’s flat and peered down the hall to see that John Paul was only a few feet away from him, making his way silently into the kitchen. A puzzled Craig quickly followed him and entered the kitchen to find his friend sitting down at the table that was at the centre of the room.
Any relief that Craig had felt on having the door opened to him quickly vanished on seeing what this entry had permitted him to see; John Paul looked an utter mess, in fact far worse than he had seemed the last time Craig had visited him.
‘You alright mate?’ he asked when it was clear John Paul had no intention in greeting him.
The obviousness of the answer only made John Paul’s response more obviously false.
‘Yeah,’ he replied, with no emotion in his voice nor his face.
Craig didn’t believe him for a second; how could he? He was sat here, looking miserable, dressed in what Craig could only assume were his pyjamas and stank of alcohol.
‘Mate, Jesus, were you out last night?’ he asked wafting the air.
‘No,’ was the simple reply.
‘Oh,’ Craig nodded, he thought that had been the reason for his friend’s foul mood.
‘It’s just that it smells like a brewery in here,’ he stuttered.
No reply came from John Paul, which caused an awkward silence to fill the dimly-lit kitchen. Craig scanned the room as he searched for something else to say. Usually conversation flowed between them so easily but what with John Paul building up a wall of isolation around him, Craig could only find himself banging his head against it; he had nothing to say.
Usually his friend would be fussing over him when he came to the flat; offering him a seat or offering him a coffee or something but as Craig looked down upon him, he realised why he wasn’t; it seemed he didn’t want any company and he was already making his way through a brew.
He was just about to offer to see himself out, to leave John Paul to his own foul mood, but something on the kitchen counter caught his attention; it was a bottle of vodka. Realising that this was the source of the over whelming stench of alcohol, Craig then looked at what was sat in front of his mate; it clearly wasn’t coffee he was drinking.
He quickly pulled out a chair from the table and dumped himself on it.
‘John Paul…’ he sighed, before grabbing the mug to inspect its contents, his suspicions were confirmed.
He looked up to find an icy glare on his friend’s face, one he was certain he had never seen before or thought he was incapable of pulling.
‘Drinking at this time?’ he asked in a disgusted tone of voice, he wasn’t going to be intimidated into pussy footing around him.
‘And here I thought you’re mum was the only McQueen who was a midday alcoholic, training to follow in her footsteps?’ he knew it was a mean thing to say and not even strictly true. Yes Myra McQueen enjoyed an afternoon G&T, but she was in no way an alcoholic, but he needed to say something to provoke his friend into speaking.
Yet he still didn’t reply.
He’d need to dig deeper at him.
‘Or maybe it your dad you’re trying to emulate here?’ he said with as much forced venom in his voice that he could ever bare to attack his friend with.
‘Don’t you dare ever compare me to him!’ John Paul spat out before softening his features into a perplexed expression.
‘What you smiling at?’ he demanded on seeing the unexpected grin which crept across Craig’s face.
‘Well at least I’ve got you talking, even if you look like you’re going to thump me,’ he chuckled nervously.
‘Come on John Paul, I don’t think you should be drinking through the day like this, it’s stupid…’
‘What do you know?!’ the fair haired young man snapped as he leapt to his feet, taking his mug of vodka with him.
‘I mean, what do you care?’ he sharply continued as he threw the contents of his mug into the sink.
‘Because you’re my mate!’ Craig defended his intentions, as the fact that John Paul had indeed taken his advice wasn’t lost on him, ‘Of course I care! I care that you’ve locked yourself away from the world because of that idiot!’
‘Don’t you dare call him an idiot, you know nothing about Stephen! And don’t you dare say he doesn’t deserve me as if you have some kind of superior knowledge about my feelings!’ John Paul ranted.
‘I…’
‘You have no idea how heartbroken I feel, god, you’ve probably never had your heart broken like this! You’ve never been lonely a day of your life!’ John Paul lashed out, slamming the empty mug down onto the side of the sink.
The great clanking noise caused by this echoed around the now silent room as the two boys just stared at one another. Neither one of them needing to state that what John Paul had said couldn’t be further than the truth. They both knew that and their intense looks told each other that.
Craig was the first to break his glare towards the other young man as he looked down onto the floor. He wanted to vocalise his thoughts, but found that something else that lurked in his head made him perilous to do it. Didn’t know anything about heartache? He was an expert on the subject, especially when it was coupled along with the subject of John Paul McQueen. Not only had he broken his heart all those years ago, but he was also doing it now and it wasn’t just the sight of his broken friend or the callous remarks he was throwing at him which were the cause for this…
‘Sorry.’
Craig looked up from the floor back to his once cold friend to find that his temperament had melted. He watched John Paul lower himself back onto the chair once more so that they were now on the same level.
‘It’s just that, well, you’ve got Evie…’ he began to explain.
Yeah I do, Craig agreed, feeling his heart strangely become even heavier than before.
‘And I’m all alone…’
His heart perked up on hearing this part; not for the fact which his friend was stating but due to the anticipation of what he was certain he was about to say.
‘So that’s why I was so certain you couldn’t understand how I’m feeling…’
Three little words, that’s all Craig needed to hear and he’d show John Paul that he wasn’t alone, that he also had the same feelings plaguing his every thought…
‘Because how could you when you’re getting married…’
Go on…
‘Because you can’t be lonely, not if you’re starting this amazing family with Evie. To be honest…’
What? What!
‘I’m kind of jealous…’
Of…?
‘The closeness you two have.’
Ha! I’m a lot closer to you mate, trust me!
He watched John Paul think over what he had just said.
‘Well not jealous,’ he corrected himself, ‘I couldn’t be happier for you actually, what you’ve got there with her, I’d kill for it.’
Okay this wasn’t exactly what Craig was expecting or willing him to say…
‘Sorry, I just lashed out,’ he apologised.
Now it was Craig’s turn to be silent, his mind was far too preoccupied by the thoughts that had flooded his head as he had listened to his friend’s explanation for his outburst.
‘Craig…? I just said I was sorry, are you listening to me?’ John Paul asked on witnessing his friend’s strange behaviour, whilst waving his hand in front of his face in an attempt to snap him out of his trance.
‘What?’ Craig jumped, ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Listen don’t worry about me!’
Craig quickly scanned the kitchen again as if he was trying to familiarise himself with what had been going on just before he had slipped away into his moment of madness.
‘Have you eaten today?’ he asked as he jumped to his feet.
‘Erm, no,’ was the puzzled reply from John Paul as he watched Craig rummage through his fridge.
‘You don’t need to do this Craig…’
‘Nonsense!’ he declared as he busied himself with searching through the contents of his friend’s fridge.
That’s it, he told himself; just keep yourself busy with trying to help him out and you wont have time for your thoughts to go all haywire again like that. He knew that the best solution for this would be to keep the fair haired young man, who was the cause of such thoughts, at arms length, but that simply wasn’t an option; he couldn’t leave him when he was feeling so down like this. He’d just need to be careful, that’s all. It was Evie who deserved these kinds of thoughts from him, not John Paul. It was Evie he was going to marry and it was Evie that he truly loved.
‘I’m no expert,’ he said as he still peered into the fridge, ‘Because let’s face it, I’m the worst cook ever but I’m thinking there’s nothing in this fridge that can be combined to make anything in the slightest bit edible.’
‘Well, shopping’s not been exactly been my main concern this week,’ John Paul meekly responded.
‘Well in that case,’ Craig announced as he swung the fridge door closed, ‘Get yourself in a shower and throw some clothes on cause I’m going to make you something over at mine!’
‘Honestly Craig…’ John Paul tried to refuse.
‘No, no! Do as I say! I’m not leaving here without you!’ the older man announced with an authority that John Paul couldn’t rebel against.
He watched as his tired looking friend rose to his feet obediently and made his way out of the kitchen before stopping in his tracks and turning around.
‘You do know that I’m capable of looking after myself,’ he told him.
Clearly, Craig sarcastically said inside his head.
He watched as a small smile crept over John Paul’s face.
‘But thanks, you know, for caring.’
‘Not a problem,’ Craig grinned, ‘I couldn’t let you sit in here and drink until your liver packs in.’
He let out a chuckle on saying this.
‘Because we’re planning on doing enough drinking at the Stag night for it to happen next week,’ he joked.
He smiled as he watched his friend make his way through the hall once again, pleased with himself that he had at last made him laugh. There, he smiled to himself, everything’s sorted…
***********
Author of 'The Last Journey' and it's sequel 'Travelling Back'. And the now in production, 'Don't Look Back', a JP fic!
I'm Curty's unique Angel 
lol 
