After The Fire

24. The Second Kiss

Corinne looked around them, at the horror on their faces, and her face filled with shame.

'That was a hot saucepan.' She dabbed at her bruises. 'I'm clumsy. I bang into things,' she said. 'I know it looks bad, but I've got really delicate skin.'

A sadness fell on all three men.

'And this is the guy who you know loves you?' Sean asked?

'He loves me. So much. I don't doubt that.'

'Why would you ever doubt that with your fancy bruises and everything?' said Sean.

She looked between them all, saw their faces, and her flush of embarrassment deepened, until it squeezed her stomach and made her feel sick.

'But that's why he does it! He gets so stressed when he thinks he might lose me.'

'Do you have affairs?' said Mick.

She looked at him, outraged. 'No I do not! But I do know what it feels like to lose someone. You can't help it. You feel sick all the time. It's OK. I'm OK.'

Not OK enough for Mick. 'How long has he been doing it?' he asked.

'Not long.'

'How long?'

'A couple of years. A bit longer. I don't know. Honestly, we're really happy. He's had a lot to worry about, that's all. He's got anxiety. He hasn't got many friends. He argues with the neighbours.'

'He'll get anxiety when I see him,' said Mick.

'No, please. He'll kill me if he knows I told you.'

'It looks like he'll kill you, anyway.'

'Of course he won't! It's the story of me. It's my fault!'

Mick knew she believed that. He felt compassion for her, and rage. And he knew how his rage would play out. By the time they were out of the sports hall, it would have settled down into a steady bed of fire that would heat up the most heinous punishments for this man. But in the meantime, he enjoyed the feeling of volatility. 'That's it,' he said. 'First thing we get out of here, I'm going to see him with a hammer.'

'You'll see him with a hammer.' Her contempt was unexpected, and it knifed him.

'If he's lucky. Have you got any better ideas?'

'You're so, so stupid. It makes me weep.' And he saw how Corinne was indeed nearly weeping, mixed with her laughing at him, and he knew he would do anything in the world to stop this happening.

'So he can knock you around all he wants, and that's OK? No chance. No bloody chance,' he said.

'What's it got to do with you?'

Mick exhaled, battling to control himself. She'd asked a fair question, and how could she know the answer? He took a deep breath, nervous. But sod the others and what they thought. He needed to catch her up.

'We're talking about first kisses. I'll tell you about mine,' he said.

'Oh, please do,' she said. 'I can't wait.' She looked at Sean and Joe. 'And no, before you two ask, it wasn't me.'

Mick began a story he'd told no one. It was a story about a few minutes in his life that he held as close to him as a talisman. In those moments of four a.m. free-fall in a temporary bed; on long train journeys when he had forgotten where he was going, or why; being yelled at in the days he had bosses; when he broke up with yet another woman and he realised he was back to being alone; he would think of this moment and it would bring him hope. In this he and Joe were far more like brothers than he could have ever guessed.