Page 7 of Seen
My phone vibrates, and I ignore it. In a minute or two, I’ll stop feeling sorry for myself and have another go. Try enlarging different sections one at a time then printing it out. Maybe tape the sections together. Or photograph sections on my phone and enlarge them.
A person with visual impairment. Going blind.A person withpartial sight.Nauseated, I try the words out on my tongue in the privacy of the quiet office. How can I form coherent sentences to some random bloke down a phone line when I can barely admit the truth to myself?
The phone vibrates again. Ezra. He’ll keep trying until I pick up. Wiping the back of my hand across my wet eyes, I take the call.
“Neil, babe. How’s it going?” Cheerful and relaxed, Ezra’s voice crackles across the airwaves from somewhere warm and sunny. His son, Jonty, squeals in the background. There’ssplashing and the unmistakable clink of ice in a glass. I can practically smell the SP50 from here.
“All good, all good.” I glance up at the grey skies outside, busy offloading aggressively wet drizzle.Except that I’m going blind.You should probably know.“Everything is under control.”
“How did you get on with the plumber?”
We talk drains and toilets for a few minutes before moving on to the beer stock take. Ez tells me about his drive through the Pyrenees, hairpin after hairpin, and how, even though Isaac clutched his seat in terror and Jonty nearly threw up in his lap, it was worth the drama for the spectacular views alone.
“You’d love it, Neil,” he says at the end. “You can see both countries at once and for miles and miles; France behind and Spain ahead. And below are clouds. It makes you feel really small and insignificant, you know?”
I swallow drily. For weeks now, I’ve been feeling both those things most of the time. “Are you going to bore me with loads of pictures?”That I’ll hardly be able to make out?
“They’ll be a damn sight more interesting than the ones you sent me of all the crap the plumber dislodged from the drains. Oh, before I forget, did the accountant get in touch?”
My chest tightens. The accountancy report is right there on the screen. I could just tell him. This minute. Tell him I’m going to have some trouble deciphering it. Tell him I have a problem with my eyes that won’t miraculously vanish any time soon.
“Yeah, it came today. I’m having a quick look at it now.” I inhale deeply. “Lorna’s off work for a while, some guy called Dan has put it together. A huge fucking Excel spreadsheet and you know how my…uh…my dyslexia struggles with those.”
“Babe, if it’s any consolation, everyone struggles with those. Do you want to send it to me, and I’ll take a look?”
I’m going blind, Ez. My dyslexia has fucking nothing to do with it.
Jonty squeals again, and I hear Isaac shouting something to him, then laughing. More splashing. “God, no,” I say. “I’m fine, it’s all under control. I can always ask him to send it in a different format. Forget about work, enjoy your holiday. I’ve told you, it’s all good.”
The ice in his drink clinks again and Ezra sighs happily. “I owe you one, Neil, for letting us have this trip. I don’t want to get all mushy on you, but I’ve been thinking about how glad I am that we went into this business together. This is the beauty of having a business partner, isn’t it? We can do stuff like this. We’re each other’s eyes.”
CHAPTER 4
LUKE
I don’t know why Alaric hangs around with me at work, just that he does and I’m grateful. On Thursday afternoons, his urology clinic takes place a few doors down from Dermatology, guaranteeing he’ll wander across and park his skinny bum on my desk for a chinwag.
“Can I interest you in rubbing one of your special dermatological creams on my growthdown there,Dr S? It’s getting bigger.”
Alaric saysdown therewith a coquettish flutter of his lashes as if it’s a secret location on a treasure map. Until he cosied up with Gerald, half the gays of London had found it. These days, he’s all mature and sensible (mostly) and a high flyer, not that his ego needs to know that.
What can I say? We share an unlikely friendship.
“Sure,” I answer, straight-faced. “But let me wash my hands first, I’ve been taking scrapings from fungal warts all morning. Would hate to spread it around.”
Alaric shudders, pulling a face. “Ugh. Maybe it can wait.”
“Perhaps you should ask Gerald to check it out for you.”
“He just texted me a dick pic. He’s the reason I’ve got it.”
Way, way too much information, though I’ve heard so much about Gerald’s dick, I reckon I could pick it out from a line-up.
“Anyhow.” Alaric crosses one stylishly clad leg over the other. “Ezra said you were the handsome hero of the hour at the weekend, after I left. Why am I not surprised?”
Alaric flirts with me a lot, but Alaric flirts with everybody.
“Slight exaggeration. Neil fell off the stage again.”
