Discovered in a Livejournal

The lads’ inability to talk to each other on a personal level has disastrous consequences.


Ray was disorientated when he first woke up. The room was unfamiliar and he tried to recall who he had left the stag party with. He lay quietly for a few minutes, listening to her soft snores, then realised he wasn’t really interested in finding the answer. Quietly slipping from the bed, he retrieved his scattered clothing and cautiously found his way to the bathroom, where he hurriedly dressed before leaving.

He drove home instinctively, totally unaware of his surroundings, his thoughts a confusion of doubts and disbelief.

What the hell had he been thinking, saying yes when Bodie asked him to be his best man? Well, now the day of reckoning had arrived and he was expected to stand there and watch the man he adored tie the knot. Could he really do that?

And after the nuptials, what then? How on earth was their working partnership going to withstand the inevitable changes a marriage would bring? It occurred to him for the first time that Bodie might well have had similar fears when he’d announced his own engagement to Ann. But then he hadn’t gone through with his wedding plans had he, not like Bodie was about to? Well, to be honest, it was Ann who had actually walked away but he would have called it off, eventually, because marrying her would have been as hopeless as pissing in the wind. He understood that now but at the time… at the time he had so wanted to be engaged, so wanted that promise of everlasting happiness and yes, he had very nearly been swept along with the whole bloody romantic notion of it all.

By the time he arrived back home he knew what he had to do - but how was a different matter altogether. Sitting at the table in his chilly kitchen, he weighed up his options over a pot of tea. He’d never considered himself a coward before but, remembering how he’d reacted to Bodie’s confession all those months ago, there was no way on earth he could face a confrontation today - and he doubted the groom would appreciate one either. So, he grabbed the notebook he kept by the phone and tried to put down on paper some sort of explanation. But what could he say if it wasn’t the truth?

He was relieved to see that Bodie’s building was still shrouded in darkness when he pulled up outside an hour or so later. Using the spare key, he crept in and propped the envelope, containing the wedding ring and a brief note, up against the kettle. From the sounds coming from the bedroom it was obvious that someone, probably Murphy, had made sure Bodie got back home safely. That was just another thing for him to add to the list of things he felt guilty about; not watching over him during his last night of freedom.

Unable to resist the temptation, Doyle quietly pushed open the door and smiled to himself as he stood and watched Bodie sleep, mouth open, bent arm resting over his forehead, snoring away obliviously. It really must be love if he found that gormless look so appealing. God, he was going to miss the daft pillock while he was away.

“Good luck, mate. See you when you get back in a couple of weeks,” he whispered before he finally closed the door on a lost opportunity and went back home to his empty flat.

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