Excerpt from Burdens
“Honestly,” Adam shook his head. “How these irresponsible idiots get deemed fit to drive in the first place is beyond me.” He jabbed an irritable finger at the TV screen, “I mean look at this fool of a bike rider. He’s been clocked at over one hundred and forty miles an hour, and that’s...” his voice suddenly trailed away. Dropping his slice of pizza back onto his plate he leaned closer towards the television set, his mouth agape, as the rider in question removed his crash helmet.
Closing his eyes Phineas silently beseeched Jesus to intercede for him with God. He prayed for the television transmitter that had been struck by lightening, thus rendering only one station operable, to be struck again, in order to put an end to the sensationalist documentary that had Adam, who usually loathed such programmes, riveted to the screen. It didn’t happen. Obviously his church attendance record had been found to be lacking the requisite points to make prayer granting possible, nor did the chair he was sitting on oblige him by swallowing him whole. Adam, his face set in lines that the Chinese might call inscrutable, switched the television set off and slowly turned to gaze at him.
Snatching up the pizza box, Phin thrust it under Adam’s nose, gabbling, “you have the last slice this time, I had it last time. I know ham and mushroom is your favourite, go on, you have it. How about another beer, or some ice cream with chocolate sprinkles, I’ll get it, you stay here.” He made to rise to his feet.
“Sit,” barked Adam.
Phin sat, testing out an ingratiating smile as he did so, but it was a bit like offering a starving polar bear a stale sardine in the hope it would choose to make a sandwich of it instead of ripping out your throat for fresh meat.
“Tell me, Phineas,” the voice was smooth, “have I just experienced some kind of hallucination, or was it really you taking a starring role in that ghastly programme?”
Gulping back a desire to indulge in a fit of hysteria and start screaming, Phin hazarded, “I must admit, he did look rather like me, but I’m not as tall. He looked much taller than me, don’t you think, and his hair was longer.”
“He had the same bike, with the same licence plate. He spoke with your voice. He had your features, but I know it can’t have been you, because,” Adam gave a cut glass smile that made Phin’s blood run colder than the Czech beer he was drinking, “I know you would never behave in such a life endangering and completely moronic way. And I know that even if you had, you would never withhold it from me, nor fail to tell me about the six hundred pound fine such behaviour incurred, not to mention the points on your licence.” The smile snapped off. “WOULD you, Phineas?”
Phin pulled his gaze away from the eyes that were burning holes in his face, mumbling, “I was going to tell you, Adam, at the right moment.”
“When,” Adam uncrossed his long legs and got up from the floor. “When were you going to tell me, on your deathbed, as a last confession, was that the right moment you were thinking of?”
“Sorry, okay, I’m sorry.”
“No, it is not okay.” Adam paced across the room. “It is not okay at all.”
Standing up, Phin shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans, hunching his shoulders, figuring the weekend could only get better, that nothing worse could happen. After all, what was possibly worse than having your past sins aired on primetime TV on a Saturday night in front of not only the nation, but the partner you’d kind of not confessed the sin to in the first place. In fact, Phin admitted the truth to himself, the partner he’d gone to considerable lengths to conceal it from, knowing fine well what his reaction was likely to be.
At the time of the crime he’d been so high on adrenalin, having pushed his powerful and shiny new bike to a record breaking, as well as law breaking, one hundred and seventy miles an hour, that he hadn’t noticed that the traffic cop who had finally halted his joyride had a salivating documentary film crew in tow.
The policeman, who had a rather nice arse, had politely asked if he were aware that he’d hit speeds in excess of one hundred and forty mph on a busy motorway where the limit was seventy? Phin, grinning cockily at the camera, had informed PC Nice Arse that in fact he’d peaked at one seventy. He had to admit after seeing it played back on film he didn’t look much like the hero he’d felt like at the time. In fact he looked more like a thoughtless, arrogant, life endangering tosser. Still, he tried to excuse himself.
“I’m sorry, Adam, really, I am, but it happened over six months ago. I didn’t see any reason to bother you with it.”
“I bet you didn’t.” Adam’s dark brows registered disgust, coming together in a critical frown, “and for your information when it happened is immaterial. The fact it happened at all is the only cogent point here.”
Phin’s weekend suddenly took a further downturn.
“Go and get your bike keys.”
Phin’s mouth went into smart mode. “I’ve had a few beers, Ad, I’m in no condition to take us out for a nice bike ride. There’s laws about drink-driving you know, maybe tomorrow, if you behave yourself.” His weekend hit the earth’s surface like a meteorite, burrowing itself several miles deep and dragging his heart with it, as Adam countered.
“Forget the keys for the time being, we’ll take this discussion upstairs.”
“It was six months ago for Christ’s sake, six months!”
“For you it might have happened six months ago. For me, it happened less than five minutes ago, and anyway do you really imagine it being six months in the past makes it any the less wrong, or any the less punishable?”
“I was punished. I was fined and point penalised.”
“In my opinion your licence should have been revoked altogether after that disgusting display. You’re not fit to be allowed the privilege of driving. You ought to be ashamed.”
Stung, Phin allowed his smart mouth to exercise again. “Well, we all know you make Judge Dredd look like a bleeding heart liberal, and you’d bring back hanging for litter offences if you could.”
Ignoring the remarks, Adam said coldly, “the law might have seen fit to deal with you leniently, but don’t expect the same from me. How dare you withhold something like this? We’re partners, we’re not supposed to have secrets.”
Phin tried to keep the whine out of his voice, but it crept in anyway. “You would have disciplined me if I’d told you.”
“Do you think you deserved to be disciplined?”
“Then, maybe, but not now, not six months later, it’s not fair. It’s done with.”
“Not as far as I’m concerned. Do you think its fair you broke your promise to confine your fetish for speed to the track, where it’s permissible? Do you think its fair I’ve discovered this in the way I have? Most of the people in my office watch this ghastly programme. I can guarantee who’s going to be the subject of gossip and sniggers come Monday morning.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Christ! I hate that you go and do that kind of thing on a track designed for it, but to drive like that on a public road is just beyond the pale, and what the HELL were you thinking, Phineas, giving permission for them to film you full facial view?”
Phin shrugged, folded his arms and stared at the floor.
“I bet you were so stuffed full of cocky adrenalin after the chase, so proud of yourself, Phin the speed king, that you didn’t even think about withholding your permission.”
It was too near the truth for comfort and Phin rubbed a hand across his mouth, but couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Then Adam said the words he hated more than anything.
“I’m so disappointed in you. You know how I felt about you getting that machine in the first place. I needed to believe you’d act responsibly when riding it. Get upstairs and take off your jeans.”
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