Free Rain by Barney Campbell Page B

tilting her head to one side like she used to do in tutorials while pondering a question. ‘You know,’ she said finally, as though she had just examined a strange object in a museum, ‘I’d never have recognized you. In the street, I mean, out of context.’
    ‘How do you mean? Have I changed?’
    ‘Changed? You look completely different. The hair for one; where has it all gone? Did they make you shave it off? Your face has changed shape, and there’s not an ounce of fat on you; you just look like one big lean muscle now. You’re a bit gaunt though. We must feed you up this lunch. Christ, I sound as though I’m your mother.’ She paused and drank her wine. Tom noticed she took somewhat more than a sip; clearly she was needing some help too. At this rate they’d be on to a second bottle even before the food arrived.
    ‘Look, I’m so sorry for the other night. You see—’
    She interrupted: ‘What, for shattering Jonty Forbes’ nose or for completely ignoring me?’
    ‘Well, for the punch too, I suppose. But to be honest he had it coming. No, I wish I’d been able to stay, honestly, but I had to go with my friend. He was in a really bad way. But I wish I’d stayed. I must have looked so rude.’
    ‘Well, it was quite amusing you guys taking that oaf down a peg. He can be a pillock sometimes.’
    ‘What happened to him?’
    ‘Well, after trying to scoop up what he could salvage from his cocaine supply he stormed upstairs, spitting daggers about you both, to clear himself up. I saw him at another party the other day. His nose is completely healed – just a tiny scar – and I overheard him trying to tell someone that he got it playing rugby. No one believes him, obviously; the realstory spread like wildfire. But I almost think he believes it himself now. He’s that kind of boy.’
    ‘What, the absolute twat kind? If I were his parents I’d be ashamed to have produced something like that. What a waste of space.’
    ‘His father’s my godfather.’
    There was silence for a few seconds before she tossed her head back with a huge laugh. ‘You idiot. I’ve missed you so much. You are so good at putting your foot in every situation that ever comes your way.’
    After that it all flowed. The other bottle of wine duly followed, and they found themselves caught up with memories and news and jobs in London and thoughts on Afghanistan all tumbling out among one another. As their puddings were cleared away and coffee put in front of them and they paused for a moment’s breath, Tom said, ‘Cass?’
    ‘Hmm?’
    ‘Can I ask you one thing? Like, a big thing. Don’t worry; I’m not going to ask if we can go out again.’
    ‘OK’, she replied softly, trying to look amused and curious when in fact her heart was racing. She wasn’t sure whether or not it was the coffee.
    ‘It’s just that now I’m about to go away, in about –’ he looked at his watch theatrically ‘– oh, all of nine hours, I can’t get out of my head what you said to me back in Graz. When you said I was wasting everything. Whether what I’m doing isn’t just me taking every single bit of love that has ever been thrown my way and throwing it into the gutter. There is a very real, very real chance that something might happen to me in Afghanistan. That’s not me being special; it’s the same for about six thousand other blokes in the brigade who are going to get out on the ground. You have to acknowledge it as a possibility. Everyone does.
    ‘But, you see, and this is where I think you were right, I’m an only child. If one of my soldiers dies and leaves his parents having to bury one of their children, at least they have the consolation that they probably still have maybe one or two other children to love. But in Ma’s case there’s none. None at all. What am I doing?’
    He sat back, looking into space over Cassie’s head and speaking as if to himself. ‘Sometimes I look in the mirror, and I don’t see what I used to see,