Page 26 of Common People

‘Pretty much, but I always feel like I’m teetering on the edge.’

‘Me too, and trust me, I’ve been over the edge more than once.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I think that before the accident, I had been so lucky because I had never had to really deal with much hardship or heartbreak because my parents had always done such a good job of protecting me from it. I don’t think they intended to shelter me quite so much, but they did and, in a way, they did me a disservice because when I was faced with the worst pain of my life, I didn’t know how to handle it.’

‘How could you?’

‘So, I drank too much, pushed everyone away, and became an unbearable arsehole.’

Bethan laughed a little. ‘I’m sure you weren’t that bad.’

‘Oh, I was. I’m still dealing with it now. I’m much better than I was, but I still have days when I get so angry at the world for what happened. I question why them. I also never had to mask like you, and so I don’t think I have that skill.’

‘I’m not sure it’s a skill, Max. It’s just how I survive life.’

Max and Bethan sat in the sauna, sweating, in peace and quiet for a minute. The two other people in the sauna left, and so it was just them. Max felt a closeness with Bethan that he hadn’t felt with anyone for some time, perhaps ever. Even with Emma, despite them being together for almost a year, he hadn’t ever been so emotionally honest with her. Perhaps it was because he knew that Bethan could understand his pain, and he hers, and it brought them closer than Max thought possible. He really felt like he could tell her anything.

‘What was Jake like?’ Max asked after a moment, and when he looked at her, she smiled at him. A wonderful, beautiful smile that was tinged with a tragic sadness.

‘Jake was amazing, the perfect boyfriend in so many ways. We first met at uni in Manchester, and from the moment we locked eyes across the Student Union bar, I knew he was the one. He was studying sports science, and wanted to be a personal trainer. He loved health, fitness, was dedicated to it, and wasdetermined to help people. Jake was a giver, and he would do anything for anyone. I know that if he hadn’t died, we would have been together forever.’

‘He sounds perfect.’

‘Yeah, he was. What about your parents? What were they like?’

‘Oh, wow, Mum and Dad. Let me see. Well, Mum was an incredible snob, but in the nicest most English way imaginable. She was kind, funny, and clever. She was definitely smarter than Dad, but she let her career take a back seat to his to make sure she was there for me growing up. Dad was more laid back, loved golf, and going to the pub, especially in the summer. I suppose he was a man of simple pleasures really. The main thing, I think, is that we always, no matter what, sat down for dinner together every single night. Mum was a brilliant cook, and yeah, I don’t know if I appreciated it at the time, but looking back now, I really do.’

‘They sound like great parents.’

‘They were,’ replied Max, with a nostalgic, faraway smile on his face. ‘But, like I said, maybe they were too good, too protective.’

‘I don’t think you can label them as caring too much. Obviously, they loved you a lot, and just wanted to protect you from the world. I wouldn’t blame them for that. I’ll probably do the same with my own children one day.’

‘Right, yeah, me too,’ said Max, feeling the heat that was beginning to overwhelm.

‘You know, one of the most difficult parts of losing Jake was that I persuaded him to go away that weekend. He’d had a busy week, was tired, and he said that what he really wanted more than anything was a weekend at home with me, but I told him to go. He hadn’t seen that group of friends for a while, and I toldhim he’d regret it if he didn’t make the effort. I made him go, and if it hadn’t been for me, then he would still be alive.’

‘I know what you mean. People always tell you that you can’t think like that, can’t blame yourself, but you do. The morning my parents died, Mum rang me from Leigh Delamere services. I was still asleep, so didn’t answer it, but if I had, if we had spoken for a few minutes, then they wouldn’t have been at that exact spot on the motorway when the lorry hit them. I know that it isn’t my fault, but every time I play that morning back in my head, I just tell myself to wake up because I heard my phone ringing. I was barely awake, but I heard it and decided to let it go to voicemail. If I had just answered, they would still be alive.’

‘And you wouldn’t be sitting here with me,’ said Bethan.

‘Right, yes. I wouldn’t be sitting here with you,’ replied Max, and they looked at each other, their eyes locking in that moment of shared grief, and it took all of his willpower not to lean across and kiss her, but he knew that wasn’t what she wanted or needed at that moment. Instead, she said they should get up and do another cold plunge, which is exactly what they did.

Going from the hot into the cold, and then back again, it was like Max was shedding layers of himself. They spoke more about their grief, and then they moved on to the now and what they wanted to do next with their lives. It felt symbolic that they were in a scorching hot sauna, dripping in sweat, while letting so much emotion inside of them go. Talking with Bethan felt to Max like the easiest thing in the world, and he almost forgot about the heat because he was so focused on her. They sat in the sauna, sweating, talking, becoming closer and closer, their friendship blossoming in a way that neither of them had expected, but both knew was a real gift from the universe.

Ten months earlier

Max could barely see as he downed the last few inches of his pint of beer. He felt the alcohol swirling around his head, and filling his stomach. He hadn’t intended to get that drunk and certainly not by himself, but like so often since the accident, he had lost control of himself. He had ignored phone call after phone call and text messages from Emma, but he wanted to be alone. Robbie had called and left him a voicemail, but he had even ignored that because he couldn’t deal with people on that day. Did they even know what day it was? No-one had mentioned it. It was his mum’s birthday, and to celebrate, he had gone out early to have a few drinks in her honour, but it had escalated and at nearly closing time, Max was blind drunk.

He attempted to get up, staggered, then almost fell over, before he was helped up by a member of staff.

‘Youse all right, pal?’ said the barman with a Scottish accent.

‘Robbie’s Scottish,’ slurred Max. ‘Just like youse!’

‘Maybe go home, eh. Do youse want me to call youse a taxi, pal?’