27
In the morning, Cath's sister, along with her husband, arrived after a long drive, giving Andy the opportunity to go home. Luke offered to drive and waited, feeling awkward in a house that he could almost have called a second home only a few months before. He made them both a coffee while Andy showered and changed. He should have taken an hour or two to sleep, but he insisted on returning to the hospital. Luke couldn't blame him for that.
On the way back, Luke asked if he could stop off at home for a shower and a change, himself. He felt overdressed in his trousers, shirt and borrowed tie, wondering whether Andy would mention the clothing choice or not. Andy had other things on his mind, however. And not only the condition of his wife and daughter.
"So, this Krystal. Nice?" They had conversed in broken sentences about Cath and Skye, both feeling the weight of their estrangement, but now Andy wanted to move on. "I mean, you haven't dressed like that since ... well. It's good. Great. Known her long?"
"No. Not long." Luke turned onto his street, thankful that he could park up and break this conversation. "It's not what you think. She's just a friend. Honest."
Almost jumping out of the car, he rushed to his front door, opening it and then remembering the bags of clothing he still had in the boot. Ushering Andy inside, he headed back to the car, took out the bags and prepared to run upstairs with them, only for someone else to arrive, catching Luke on the threshold.
"Been out all night, eh?" Graham, hands in his pockets, wandered up the driveway after Luke. He inclined his head to look into the house where Andy had entered the living room. "Another caller? Having a lot of them of late."
"Just friends." Luke frowned, glancing indoors to see Andy switching on the tv. "Is there something you need?"
Graham licked his lips, trying to look inside the house again. He looked odd, excited, nervous. The smile upon his lips had a cruel edge to them as he looked Luke up and down, taking extra care to look at the shopping bags in his hands. Something was wrong here and Luke couldn't quite work out what.
"I've seen you, you know. In your bedroom. At night. I work in my garden, see. Pottering about when the wife's in one of her moods." Graham's voice had lowered, becoming almost conspiratorial. He leaned forward. "She gets those moods often, see, and I have needs. So do you, I reckon. Dressing up in frocks and wigs. Callers at all hours. I know what you are."
Luke's blood ran cold. He knew the older man gardened, but it never occurred to Luke he did so at night. It also had never occurred to Luke to close his bedroom curtains while dressing. None of the houses surrounding him could see into his bedroom and everyone minded their own business, usually. He dropped the bags inside the door, stepping forward.
"I'm not anything." The hissed words didn't sound confident. He now sounded more nervous than Graham appeared. He glanced over his shoulder. "I think you should go, Graham. Right now."
"Tranny cock whore." The grin, manufactured teeth in dire need of cleaning, made Graham look nothing like the kind older man he liked to present himself as. One of the hands in his pockets moved, stroking his penis through the material. "All I'm saying is, why bother with strangers when we can have our fun. Or with others. Either way. Or I could ..."
Luke stepped forward again, hand rising to grip the older man's jumper. If Andy heard any of this they would never rebuild their friendship. Uncertain what to do, he thought of Helen. She wouldn't take this. She wouldn't let a weasel like Graham make demands of her, or threaten her. Luke never stood up for himself, usually, but this was not a usual situation.
"Or you could what?" He glared into Graham's eyes, daring him and the older man began to scowl.
"Or I could tell everyone what you are. A pervert that dresses in women's frocks. A danger to the neighbourhood." Again, Graham looked around Luke to the inside of Luke's home. "Or I could tell your 'friend'. Just a friend, you say? Then I doubt he knows how sick you are. Or we could be friends, once or twice a week."
"I tell you what, you dirty old fuck. Take a look, right here." Luke let Graham go, stepping back and pointing to his doorbell. Especially at the camera lens embedded in the plastic. "Smile for the camera, you bastard! A camera that records everything. Your wife will love to know what her husband really wants. Now fuck off, before I kick the living shit out of you."
"You're lying. There's no camera." Despite his words, Graham stared at the doorbell.
"Fucking try me." Luke pulled out his phone, never taking his eyes from Graham, called up the app and showed Graham the live feed. "Test me and see."
Graham's face turned pale as he began to step backward, though his eyes had switched from the phone to the doorway of Luke's house, looking at something else, and the cold feeling in the pit of Luke's stomach returned. With care, he turned the screen of his phone off, putting it back in his pocket. He didn't want to turn around, but he had to.
Andy. Luke wasn't certain how long Andy had stood there, how much he had heard of the heated conversation between Luke and Graham, but, by the look on his face, he had heard enough. Not only that, but he stood beside the bags Luke had dropped in haste, the contents tumbled out onto the floor of the entranceway.
Those glass-like shoes sat peeking out of one of the bags. The dress he had worn in Helen's flat sat, in a crumpled pile, on the tiles beside the hold-ups, folded, but obvious what they were. The look on Andy's face almost made Luke crumble to the ground himself. A mixture of horror and disgust, questioning and judgment. He looked down at the contents of the bags and then over Luke's shoulder toward the receding figure of Graham.
"Is it true? It looks true." He waved a hand toward the bags while running his other hand through his hair. "You're one of them ... things. Like that one at the coast. Fuck! Now I get it! Fuck me!"
"Listen, it's not what ..." It seemed too late to say that it wasn't what Andy thought it was. Probably too late for anything. "Let's just talk inside for a bit."
His hand automatically reached up to Andy's shoulder, but his friend flinched away as though the hand were white hot. He stepped away, avoiding Luke's gaze and Luke recognised anger building up inside Andy. They both knew each other so well that they could almost predict each other's emotions before they took hold. At least they once could. Luke's emotions were scattered to the winds, of late, and Andy's were proving a little harder to predict. He hadn't expected anger.
"No. No. Don't fucking touch me! Jesus fucking christ! You've been around my daughter!" Andy's hand balled into a fist and he jabbed a finger into Luke's chest. "If you've touched her, I swear, I will fucking kill you, you sick fuck!"
"I can't believe you could ever think that!" Blood pounded in his ears. He could have suffered any other accusation, but not that. Luke felt sick at the idea his friend, former friend, could ever think he could do such a thing. "And if you think I ever could, then we never knew each other. I don't know what I am, who I am, right now, but I'm certainly not that and I resent you even saying it."
"You ... you stay the fuck away from me and my family." Andy barged his way past Luke, kicking at the bags as passed, sending dresses and shoes out onto the driveway. He stopped half-way down the drive. "You don't know what you are? I can tell you. You are a sick, dirty, disgusting faggot. I wish you'd died instead of Elaine."
As he reached the end of the drive, Andy dipped down, picking up one of the white-painted stones that lined the short length of space. With every ounce of spite he could muster, he threw the stone through the window of the rear door of Luke's car, then spat on the window beside it before stalking away down the road.
If Luke had thought he had lost his friend before, he certainly had now. Unable to think of anything else to do, he crouched, picking up the scattered clothing and shoes sent tumbling by Andy's hate-filled tirade. As he did so, his eyes caught movement next door, the curtains twitching and then swinging as the man that had instigated the entire situation watched the chaos that he had caused.
For a second, Luke considered showing Graham's wife the video of her husband propositioning and threatening Luke, but that would only serve to bring her pain that she didn't deserve. Life had a way, sometimes, of bringing justice to those that deserved it. Not karma, as people called it. Karma didn't work that way, but a fate of a sort. Luke hoped fate had something appropriate in store for Graham
With the clothing collected, Luke slumped onto his doorstep. Head supported by his hand, he tried to think of how he could repair his life. Turning away from dressing was one way, but it looked as though it were far too late for that. Too late in a number of ways. He couldn't stop now if he even wanted to try. He had seen Lucinda and she had seen herself. There was no turning back from that. He tugged his phone from his pocket, searching through his contacts, and found what he expected to find. Under the name 'Horny Helen'.
"Helen? Can I come over?" If anyone would understand, it was Helen and he needed to see her.