Dany Atkins - Fractured

It was impossible to ignore the nostalgia around the table and the air of impending separation was almost as apparent as the tomato and garlic aromas wafting around us. While there was still a few weeks before I left for my place at Brighton, Trevor and Phil were both going to leave after the weekend and Sarah only a few days later. Somehow I couldn’t really imagine the condensed remains of our group; Cathy, Jimmy, Matt and myself, all getting together in the remaining weeks.

This sudden reluctance to leave struck me unexpectedly with its intensity. It wasn’t as though I didn’t want to go away to university. Of course I did. I’d certainly worked hard enough to achieve the grades I needed to get on my journalism course. It was just that it finally seemed that tonight, it was hitting home for the first time that this was really the end of a very important chapter in my life.

And just for the moment I couldn’t really focus on the new beginnings, because all I could think of was leaving behind my boyfriend and my two closest friends. Ridiculously I felt my eyes begin to water, and I hastily looked away, preferring the dazzling glare of the rays of the dwindling sun, than the reaction from around the table if they knew I’d been crying.

‘You OK?’ asked Jimmy softly, leaning forward so only I could hear his words.

Matt, was placing the drinks order, so it was safe to quietly reply.

‘Oh, you know, just feeling a little emotional, I guess. Changes coming, saying goodbye to everyone, stuff like that . . .’ I trailed off, expecting some sort of ridiculed comment, but instead was surprised when his hand reached across the table, encircled my fingers which were fiddling restlessly with the cutlery, and encased them in his grasp.

His grip felt oddly different; not the familiar clasp I had known from nursery school upwards, perhaps it was just the rough texture of the skin from his summer gardening, or was it more in the way my hand felt so small, tightly encompassed in his own.

I felt, rather than saw Matt’s slow awareness of Jimmy’s action, but rather than a hurried retreat, Jimmy gave my hand one last squeeze and took his time before withdrawing his own. In an instinctive response, Matt drew his body closer towards mine, reclaiming both my attention and his territory and it was only after a moment or two that I became aware that when taking back his hand, Jimmy had somehow transferred the lucky penny he had picked up outside the restaurant from his hand to mine.

I held the coin tightly in my palm, imbibing the small copper disc with more significance than it perhaps deserved. It was typical of Jimmy to offer to share even the possibility of good fortune with me. We had, after all, shared so much for so many years. He was more like my brother than my friend: in fact when I thought about it, his whole family were closer to me than many of my own relatives.

Jimmy’s mother and mine had been very good friends long before Jimmy and I were even born, and when my Mum had died so suddenly when I was only a toddler, Jimmy’s family had reached out and somehow drawn both Dad and I into their lives and their hearts. I realised with a shock that my Dad wasn’t the only family I’d be leaving behind when I went away, it was going to be almost as tough saying goodbye to Jimmy’s parents and his younger brother too.

When the two bottles of wine Matt had ordered were delivered to the table, everyone took a glass to raise a toast.

‘To going away . . . ’

‘To not dropping out. . . !’

‘To our new lives . . .’

‘. . . and old friends . . .’

The last was echoed by each person around the table, as glasses clinked together catching a brilliant prism of evening sunlight.

Five miles away, an angry sixteen year old boy, bored and looking for excitement, found an unlocked car, with the keys dangling invitingly in the ignition. Not stopping to consider for a second, he was in the driver’s seat and screeching away from the kerb before the idea of stealing the car ever consciously entered his mind.

As the others sat joking and bantering light-heartedly, I took a second to look around the table, trying to take a mental snapshot of the moment. I knew we were all destined to make new friends at our various colleges and universities, however, just now it was hard to believe that the new bonds we would forge could ever be as strong as those that threaded between the seven of us around the table.

As my eye fell on each individual friend, a memory or emotion would erupt in response. So many, it was almost impossible to separate them, but each recollection was another brick in the wall of our friendship, which I had to believe would remain solid no matter where we all ended up.

When I looked at Sarah, I couldn’t help but repress a smile. In a strange way I already felt jealous of the new friends she would be making on her art course. Crazy, loyal, funny and incredibly caring, Sarah’s friendship was one of my most treasured possessions. Whoever they were, these new friends didn’t know how lucky they were.

And then there was Jimmy. I’d spent so much of the summer stressing over how it would feel to be apart from Matt, that whenever the thought of also saying goodbye to Jimmy had intruded, I’d hastily stuffed it away to the back of my mind. I knew it sounded strange, but the thought of not seeing my old friend on a regular basis was just so huge, so hard to absorb, that I couldn’t even allow myself the time to contemplate it.

I realised with some disappointment that I wasn’t nearly as ready as I should be to let go of any of them.

The car sped along the quiet early-evening streets at almost double the speed limit. It wasn’t the first car he’d ever picked up for a joy ride, but it was certainly the fastest. He eyed the high-spec interior of the GTi with angry jealousy. The expensive stereo, the smart leather upholstery, every possible luxurious extra all seemed to scream out mockingly to him from a life he could never achieve. In furious response, he pushed his foot down even harder on the accelerator.

From somewhere in the distance a siren began to wail.

As we waited for our meals to arrive, I glanced occasionally through the window beside me and up the road to the church. The sun was just beginning its leisurely descent and the sky was bathed in diluted shades of red and gold, turning the usually drab high street into a magical abstract of colours. I noticed there were few pedestrians, but the lines of parked cars flanking both sides of the road meant that the pubs and restaurants were all doing good business that evening.

‘Rachel, are you listening?’

With a start I drew my attention away from the scene outside, and realised that Jimmy had been speaking.

‘Sorry, I was miles away . . . what were you saying?’

His eyes flickered for a second towards Matt, who was chatting to Cathy at that moment on his other side. Jimmy didn’t look comfortable in having to repeat whatever it was I had just missed.

‘I was asking if you weren’t too busy tomorrow afternoon, if you’d be able to come round to my house?’

The oddly hesitant request wasn’t like him at all and I found myself momentarily confused, both by his tone and the formality of the invitation. Jimmy and I usually just pitched up at each other’s front doors without asking; no invites necessary.

‘Sure, I can do that. I was intending to come round to see your Mum and Dad again before I left, anyway.’

‘Actually, they won’t be home tomorrow,’ again that oddly uncertain tone, ‘No-one will, just me. I . . . er . . . I just wanted to have a quiet word with you. Is that OK?’

Was it the red glow from the sun, or was he actually blushing?

He seemed anxious to elicit my response before Matt turned back, so I quickly reassured him.