An Unexpected Answer
Sophie could never stand Steve. For the entire seven years shed been married to his best mate, Matthew.
Steves booming laughter grated on her nerves, as did his ridiculous leather jacket. His habit of clapping Matthew on the shoulder and yelling, Mate! Let me guess, the missus is on the warpath again! sent waves of irritation over Sophie.
Matthew only ever shrugged, Hes eccentric, but his hearts in the right place. And that would annoy Sophie more. A golden heart was no excuse for ruining her evening.
When Matthew diedslipped and hit his headSteve appeared at the funeral dressed in that same absurd jacket. He stood apart, quiet and awkward, staring somewhere over the mourners heads as if he was seeing something nobody else could.
Sophie thought to herself, Thats the end of it. At last hell leave me alone.
He didnt. He turned up a week later. Tapped quietly on her lonely, hushed front door.
Soph, he offered, abashed, let me at least peel some spuds for you or whatever it is?
Theres no need, she replied, voice flat, empty, through the half-open door.
There is, he insisted, and like a chill draft, he slipped into her hallway.
So, it started.
Steve fixed everything that malfunctioned. Occasionally, it seemed to Sophie as if things deliberately fell into disrepair, just to give him an excuse to return.
He brought provisions in enormous carrier bags, as though laying in supplies ahead of siege.
He took her son, Rory, to the common, and Rory would return rosy-cheeked and chattering away, which stunghed always been quiet and sombre with Matthew.
The pain became Sophies constant shadow. Piercing, when shed find one of Matthews old socks. Dull and aching, when shed brew two cups of tea in the silent evening. And something strange and sharp, watching that unbearable Steve set plates on the table in all the wrong places.
He was a living echo of Matthewa warped reflection. Sophie suffered his presence, but soon realised she was afraid he might stop comingthen thered be nothing left but emptiness.
Her friends would murmur, Sophie, hes been smitten with you for ages! Seize the day! Her mum would comment, Hes a decent bloke, darling. Dont frighten him off. Sophie bristled. It felt as if Steve was stealing her grief, elbowing it aside with his relentless care.
One day, Steve dragged in yet another great sack of potatoes (“on special offer!”) and Sophie snapped.
Steve, stop! Were coping. I know I know youre looking after me
But Im not ready. Dont want it. Youre Matthews mate. Stay that way.
She braced for wounded pride, for justifications. But Steve only blushed, like a mortified schoolboy, and dropped his eyes.
Alright. Sorry.
Then he left. His absence was louder than his presence ever was.
Rory asked, Wheres Uncle Steve? Why isnt he coming round? And Sophie, hugging her son, thought, Because Im an idiot. Ive pushed away the only person who showed up to give, not take.
Steve came back after a fortnight. Knocked late in the evening. He smelled of rain and, unmistakably, whisky. His eyes blurred but unwavering.
May I? Just a minute. I need to say something, then Ill go.
She let him in.
Steve sat on the stool in the hall, not removing his damp coat.
I shouldnt his voice rasped, but I cant keep this inside any longer. Youre right. Ive acted a right fool. But I I made him a promise.
Sophie froze, leaning against the wall.
What promise? she whispered.
Steve looked up, agony etched across his face, so real it physically hurt her.
He knew, Soph. Not for certain, but he suspected. There was something in his heada ticking bomb, he said. An aneurysm. His doctors said it could go at any time. Gave him a year, two at best. He didnt tell you. Didnt want to scare you. But he told me a month before he had his fall.
Sophies already-unsteady world collapsed for good. She slid slowly down the wall to the floor, heart hammering in her throat.
What what did he say? she croaked.
He told me, Steve, youre the only one I trust completely. If anything happens look after my lot. Rorys only small, Sophieshes tough on the outside, but she could fall apart. Dont let her, Steve! And I said, Oh come on, Matt, youll outlive us all. But he just Steves voice faltered, he just gave me that calm stare and said, Try to make Sophie fall for you. She mustnt be alone. Youve always treated her well. It would be right
Steve fell silent.
Thats all? Sophie breathed, barely audible.
He also said, Steve continued, wiping his face, youd hate me at first. Because Id remind you of him. But to stick it out, give you time Youd adjust. And thenwhatever fate decided.
He rose slowly.
Thats it. I tried best I could. Thought, maybe But the way you looked at menow I know. Itll never happen for us. Ill always be Steve, my husbands mate. So Ive let Matt down. Didnt keep my promise. Im sorry.
He reached for the door handle.
And in that second, Sophie finally accepted the monstrous, unbearable truth. She accepted Matthews vast, terrible love for themthinking of them even at the edge of life. She accepted foolish, stubborn, sacred Steve and his two years of burden, carried without hope of thanks.
Steve, she called quietly.
He turned. His eyes were tired, hopeless.
You fixed the tap Matthew spent two years not mending.
Yeah.
You took Rory to my mums the day I broke down sobbing in the bath.
Thats right
You remembered my mums birthday, when even I forgot.
He nodded, silent.
And all thatjust because he asked?
Steve sighed.
At first, yes. Then Then I did it because it was needed. Because I couldnt do anything else by then.
Sophie rose from the floor. She came close. She looked at the familiar, silly jacket. The weary, no-longer-young face. And, for the first time in two years, she didnt see Matthews shadow. She saw Stevea man whod been her husbands friend, now shouldering the duty of caring for his family.
Stay, she said, calmly, have a cup of tea. Youre frozen
He stared disbelieving.
As a friend, Sophie added, her tone not frosty, but soft and alive. As Matthews best mate. For now until youre tired of it.
Steve grinned with that old lopsided smile that once set her teeth on edge.
Tea? he asked. You havent got a bit of ale, by any chance?
Sophie laughed. For the first time in an age. And understoodor rather, feltshe wouldnt push away a hand, even if it trembled with exhaustion, reaching out to help. Even if that hand wore a ludicrous leather glove.
