Simon
asks Adam to go running
This
was chopped because it was unnecessary, and
paceless:
Simon
was pushing Adam too far. That’s what
Kate said. Adam was pushing Adam too far.
That was another theory.
He
had Something To Prove. Kate said.
But
the more he tried to prove it, the less evidence
he had.
Take
the running.
It
had all started a few weeks before, with Simon
and Adam talking in the garden.
Simon
had asked – malevolently, I sensed –
if Adam ever went running. Of course, the
right answer, the answer I was anticipating
to come from Adam’s mouth was: ‘No,
never.’ Indeed, even stick-throwing
could sometimes leave him short of air, clutching
his shoulder.
But,
as well as air, Adam was also increasingly
short of right answers, especially when Simon
was the one pitching the questions. So although
his body told the truth, his words went against
him.
‘Running?
Er, yes, yes I do as it happens. From time
to time.’
Simon’s
jaw dropped and closed in a single gesture,
as if catching a Frisbee in mid-flight. ‘What
about Sunday?’
I
had smelt fear, coming from Adam, and sensed
his urge to escape. ‘What about Sunday?’
‘Let’s
go running,’ said Simon, looking across
the lawn at myself returned his gaze with
one open eye. ‘On Sunday. First thing,
how’s that sound.’
Judging
from Adam’s expression, it couldn’t
have sounded any worse. ‘Sunday, er,
Sunday’s -’
The
corners of Simon’s mouth took a smug
downturn. ‘Of course, if you prefer
to run at your own pace, you know, I don’t
want you to feel pressured or anything. I
mean, we’ve come a long way since cross-country,
haven’t we? I just thought-’
‘No,
no. Sunday. Sunday’s good,’ said
Adam, even to his own surprise.
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