A bottle of rum between three and Dee fell asleep soon after they finished playing, soon after Shortest had left, taking with him his frenzied notes on Jack’s departure. Jolyon recounted the story, it was a shame that Jack wasn’t there to tell the tale himself.
Chad and Jolyon drank a little brandy and then when it seemed time to leave, Jolyon told Chad that perhaps he shouldn’t wake Dee. She looked so peaceful in her sleep. And this was true, so Chad left resignedly on his own.
The next day, it simply became known that Dee and Jolyon were together now. There was no need for any announcement because gradually the news became apparent, like a distant billboard being driven toward in a car. A suspicion on the horizon and then very quickly it’s there, looming large on a hillside, spelling out the truth in giant red letters.
LIV(ii) They performed a few trifling consequences over the next several days, during which time an envelope was pushed across a table by Tallest. Jack’s name was displayed on the front, scrawled across a brown paper plateau sustained from within by a bulge of twenty-pound notes.
Meanwhile there was a lull in the play, as if they were all saving their strength for the finale. Jolyon was grateful for this pause and grateful for Dee to hold, Dee to stroke, Dee to love.
Because despite having someone to soothe him at night once more, Jolyon’s days were entering one of their dark ages. The once placid pace of his routine was becoming a stumble. And the mnemonics that nudged his days down the right path were beginning to lead him astray. He had started to eat his breakfast cereal midway through the afternoon. He hadn’t showered in three days and when at last he did cleanse his body, it was not an object that reminded him but Dee, a gentle suggestion that he might wish to consider a shower. And he had abandoned writing his diary, he didn’t remember when, he must have tossed it deep in a drawer at some point. It had become a grind in any case, he liked to write his essays at night and the diary would cut into his work time.
These shifts in his life were making him feel increasingly uneasy. As a child Jolyon had noticed that while other children seemed perpetually sunny, he passed periodically through bouts of bleakness. During these black spells, he suffered from a sense as if entering a room only to forget why one is there. But for Jolyon this feeling could last for days at a time. Sometimes weeks.
Slowly he had learned that a structured life could help lighten his darker spells. At twelve, he had begun keeping the diary to record his days as a series of lists. Gradually his system of mnemonics developed and his diary was no longer needed. But writing it every night had become part of his routine, so he continued. Instead of a book of lists, Jolyon’s diary became a more traditional record of the days. Its conversations, his observations. Or somewhere to vent his opinions in secret, a way to cleanse himself of his darkest thoughts.
And so, while eating cereal at an unfamiliar hour would not be a concern for most people, for Jolyon it felt like a symptom. Or perhaps it was a cause. And then he realised that the sock was no longer hanging from its hook on the door. He thought about replacing it but perhaps he had removed it so that Dee could come into his room unannounced and surprise him at his desk with a kiss, could leave his room early in the morning to work for an hour before climbing back into his bed. Dee’s sleek dark hair on his chest, her limbs like the key to his lock.
LIV(iii) Chad had told them he had work to catch up on, so it was just the two of them that night, Jolyon and Dee. They crossed Hallowgood Court hand in hand and took the steps down into the swirling currents of the bar, the sounds and the smoke and the crowd. They saw Jack right away, telling one of his stories to a full table, Dorian and Rory and several more first years. Jolyon knew all their names and which subject each was studying but little more than that. He let go of Dee’s hand and waited awkwardly at the edge of the table while Jack finished speaking. Jack’s shoulders had become stiff and he didn’t turn once the tale was over. Everyone was laughing, slapping their thighs, the table.
Rory raised his glass to Jolyon. ‘What do you think, Jolyon, a star in the making?’ he said, shifting his glass in Jack’s direction.
‘Absolutely,’ said Jolyon, but the table could sense his uncertainty.
‘The major part Jack just landed,’ said Dorian. ‘Didn’t you hear? He’s going to play Vladimir in Waiting for Godot.’
‘You’re kidding me,’ said Jolyon. ‘Jack, that’s amazing. Well done.’
‘It’s just a little student production,’ said Jack.
‘Little?’ said Rory, incredulously. ‘It’s showing at the Guildhall.’
‘Wow,’ said Jolyon, ‘the first rung of many, Jack.’
‘Whoever would have guessed that you’re of the theatrical bent,’ said Dee, inserting her words with a wink. But Jack took a sip of his drink instead of looking up at her.
‘Let me buy you a pint to celebrate,’ said Jolyon.
‘No, I’m good,’ said Jack, his glass almost full.
‘Then come to the bar for a quick chat anyway,’ said Jolyon.
Jack stood up but without any enthusiasm. He shuffled past three sets of knees on the bench alongside him while Jolyon touched Dee on the arm and asked her to wait.
‘Sorry to interrupt, Jack,’ said Jolyon. ‘But I thought I should return this to you.’ He pulled the brown envelope from his pocket.
Jack took a stool at the bar and tore open the envelope discreetly between his legs. He removed the money and pushed it quickly down into his wallet.
‘Well done again,’ said Jolyon, ‘– the theatre thing, I mean. When did you start auditioning?’
Jack, not looking up, stared at his hands pressed together around his wallet. ‘I didn’t think I’d get it,’ he said.
‘Are you sure I can’t get you that drink?’ said Jolyon.
‘No thanks, Jolyon. Too much celebrating already,’ said Jack. He held his hand to his chest and winced.
Jolyon ordered two drinks then turned back to Jack. ‘Just one more thing then,’ he said. ‘Oh, by the way, we’re still friends, right?’
Jack nodded. But he was still looking down.
‘The thing is,’ said Jolyon, ‘we probably won’t see much of each other . . . but only for a short time. The three of us and the consequences, you know. It’s all meant to stay completely in house, right? So please don’t think we’re deliberately avoiding you. Anyway, I really can’t see it taking too much longer now.’
‘That’s fine with me,’ said Jack. He looked over to where he had just been sitting, the merry faces, Dee standing at the end of the table looking alone as the conversation circled beneath her. ‘And you know, Emilia was right. It wasn’t fun any more. We forgot we were friends. Sometimes it felt like we’d cut ourselves off completely from the rest of the world. And anyway, Jolyon, I’m going to be really busy with all this theatre stuff, you know?’
‘I understand,’ said Jolyon.
‘That’s all it was,’ said Jack. He paused for a moment and then, with a jolt as if coming out of a daydream, he looked up at Jolyon and waved the empty envelope. ‘So if anyone’s taking bets, my money’s on you. Good luck, Jolyon,’ he said, and then he extended his hand.
They shook and Jack slid off the bar stool and began to work his way through the crowd. And then Jolyon, a strange feeling inside him, looked down at his hand. He frowned and picked up his change and the drinks from the bar. And then he realised it was the first time he and Jack had ever shaken hands.