Matthew 5

Shuffling slowly though the crowd I feel so awkward – it’s as if there’s something wrong with me. My limbs seem to have forgotten how to move properly, and my face - I know my face is red – I can feel it. I’m clumsy and shy and I must look so stupid! I’m pretty sure everyone else will have noticed too, which makes it feel even worse.

There’s a sprinkling of Matthew’s London friends in amongst the others now, I know some of them by sight. I wait my turn in the little huddle on the pavement; moving forwards reluctantly, nearer and nearer to his mum, glad, in the meantime, of the chance to hear what the others are saying. I’m straining my ears. How can it come so naturally to everyone else when I don’t have a clue? How come they all seem to know exactly what to say? Maybe there’s something wrong with me

Finally I’m next to her – there’s no escape. For a minute I wonder how she can be Matthew’s mother – there’s no resemblance – then she looks at me and as I tell her my name I see her eyes are completely bloodshot – not one speck of white. She seems dazed by everything.

“I’m a friend of Matthew’s..” I begin haltingly “I’m so sorry..”

I shrink inside as I say these words – it doesn’t feel as if it’s me talking at all.

“Thank you for coming”

Her voice is surprisingly warm, she seems genuinely pleased that I’ve come. She puts her arms around me and kisses my cheek. As she embraces me, she feels solid and strong, which is surprising, but when we fall apart again it’s like she’s switched herself off from the inside – she’s looking through me as if I’m not really there

Then someone puts their hand on my arm and leads me slightly away, out of the crush. Another girl instantly takes my place and begins talking softly. I turn to see who the hand belongs to and it’s a man I don’t know – he looks tired and pale – I can see beads of sweat on his forehead. His shirt buttons don’t fasten properly, his suit looks too small and he seems uncomfortable in his collar and tie – he keeps running a finger around the neck as if it’s too tight. When he speaks I can hear the lilt of his accent

“There’s an official do…” .he looks over at Marnie……”but we’re going to the pub – please come … if you’d like to…”

“Thank you so much – thanks…” I say, then I instantly start worrying in case it sounded patronising and I’ve offended him.

”I have to find my friends – I’m sure we will….”

I try to back away without looking as if I am, in case that offends too. I go back to Zachy and tell him about the man and the pub, and he shakes his head

“– You mean she’s not …...?”

And then suddenly Danny is there again – putting his arm around me

“Right – fuck this for a game of soldiers – we’re all going down the Old Black Lion with Matthew’s mum – ok?” He touches my face and he is off again.

I don’t know if I should go and see Marnie first…I look across to the other group, where she being embraced by a man with a beard and a big black hat. I haven’t seen her since the summer Joel died when I … when she asked me to look after his girlfriend on the island until she finished filming. She is there too, still close to Marnie, and Matthew’s girlfriend. I can’t do it – I can’t. I look at Zach;

“It’s probably better if I don’t go and talk to Marnie – she has so many people around her. I’d like to go with the others Zach”

I hate myself and I hate having to choose like this. Zach takes one last look at Marnie, then he shrugs and says

“Sure”

We join the small stream of people making their way back onto the West End Lane. It’s beginning to drizzle slowly, depressingly. Cars are turning their sidelights on, even though it’s barely lunchtime. As we go past the Tube Station, T is leaning against the wall, looking lost. I haven’t seen him since before Joe died – didn’t even know he was back from the States. His face breaks into a smile and he looks relieved to see us

“What’s happening? I have no idea what’s going on – I saw some others all heading away – what’s everyone doing?”

There are lines under his eyes, and his face is pale and has lost some of its roundness – he was so brown the last time I saw him. I wonder what his life’s been like lately – how it’s been since Joe died. He doesn’t look very well – sad, tired, uncomfortable, and a bit cross. Joel and I – we could always make him smile when he was down, and when words didn’t work we would nudge him off the pavement in his high heels – we could always make him laugh, always. I’m glad Zach is there to be friendly with him because I can’t – it’s been too long …. T looks relieved too

“All right? Haven’t seen you for ages man,” Zach says, and suddenly it feels less awkward

They nod slightly warily at each other. I remember the band they had – when they played Dingwalls, and Joel and I didn’t take our eyes off T in case he turned and looked in our direction. It feels like yesterday but at the same time as if it only happened in a dream. It was all such a long time ago.

I shake my head to get rid of the memory – but I cant. Every memory I have of being grown up is one I shared with Joe and T – every nice thing, every sad one, they were always there. It’s been three years and life’s gone on, but nothing’s really counted in my head since then - not the way it seemed to count before. And now Matthew’s gone too – and it all feels so tawdry – they way it’s happened, with that insignificant ugly girl in the crowd, and the rumours and the squabbles; It’s wrong and he didn’t deserve it. It shouldn’t have been like that.

As we reach the pub T turns to me. It’s like nothing’s changed – this place,– we spent half our lives here once. I didn’t know he was coming.

“You going in?” he asks, gesturing with his head

“Yes”

I don’t want to look him in the eyes; instead I glance down at some discarded leaflets slowly turning to mush on the wet pavement. He stands aside to let me in first, gesturing with his hand – like we were strangers or something, and I thank him, keeping up the pretence. Zach doesn’t know what happened between us – our big argument – the fact that we haven’t spoken since. As far as he’s concerned we’re all just old friends. Now’s not the time to tell him, and I’m not sure I would anyway.

As the doors open, the smell hits me – beer and cigarette smoke – and the noise – and the comfortable ordinariness of it, except today is so far from ordinary and this place is empty of the people I miss so much - that somehow makes it all so much worse. It hasn’t changed one bit – right down to Siousxie and the Banshees on the jukebox. I bite my lip because I am not going to cry

“What are you two drinking?” T’s looking at us, hand in pocket, waiting….

When he comes back with the drinks we take them awkwardly and sit down. Zach seems to know something’s up, but he doesn’t say anything. T picks up his bottle, looks at both of us with his sad brown eyes and I make eye contact for the first time, but it’s like there’s a barrier between us – Zach I suppose.There’s so much I want to say, but I can’t. Instead, we raise our glasses to Matthew and drink an uncomfortable toast. The smack’s worn off now, although everything still seems slightly dreamy.We talk a bit – I tell him about the girl and the will and Danny. It’s stilted. T looks as dazed as I feel and shakes his head a lot in disbelief.

There’s so much else I want to say, but I’m not going to. Not with T. I’m not going to let my guard down, and I don’t think he wants to either. It’s been too long since … everything, and I’m not sure I trust him enough, not anymore. It’s time to go – we wave at the people who came with Matthew’s mum, and they wave back. I can’t see her anymore; we haven’t spoken to any of them since we arrived.

The worst, the very worst part is as we close the door behind us. It feels as if I am saying goodbye to everyone all over again. It’s second nature to me to turn right, walk along the West End Road and then head towards that steep hill, back up to Joel’s – but I can’t, because it’s all gone. Even Marnie doesn’t live here now – she’s bought a house in Soho; “there’ll be a bedroom for all Joel’s friends whenever they want”. I remember her saying that to me at Joe’s memorial service. The idea of going there – somewhere Joe never was … I never will. And I’ll never come back here again either. It’s the last time

Before T goes I nearly say something – nearly reach out. I want to – and then I don’t, and it’s too late because he’s turned in the other direction and he’s walking off. I watch his back for a while – the familiar denim jacket – it must be the same one surely - and the walk – only T walks like that, it couldn’t be anyone else in the world. Then I shake my head. Zach and I walk back to the Tube. I am so grateful to him – he is being lovely and I hate myself for wishing he was someone else – it’s not his fault. As we reach the entrance he looks at me and says gently

“What now?”

When I ask, he doesn’t mind at all – it’s been such an edgy day. We head off to Zach’s dealer, just off the Portobello Road. It’s the only thing to do.