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‘I believe in saying it like it is.’ I take another sip of my drink. ‘I mean, I don’t want to go around upsetting anyone. It’s just that I can’t be doing with bullshit.’ I stop. ‘There must be so much of that in your world.’
He looks surprised. ‘You’re right. It’s full of it – but it’s the same in many areas of life. People twist the truth and tell each other what they want to hear – and it’s always about power – and money.’
‘Of course it is. Depressing, isn’t it?’ But I’m slightly baffled. ‘I prefer honesty.’ I look at him more closely. ‘Can I ask you something?’
He looks slightly cagey. ‘Presumably you’re going to ask anyway.’
‘It’s just that you seem so different to last week,’ I say. ‘I mean, when you came in about the trashed hotel room, sorry to say it, but I thought you were an arsehole.’
Forrest grimaces. ‘I was, wasn’t I? Completely.’
I frown. ‘So what’s changed?’
‘How do you know it has changed?’ His eyes glint. ‘All this Mr Nice Guy behaviour could be an act.’
‘I don’t think so.’ I shake my head. ‘One, when they want something, arseholes tend to overdo the whole “being nice” thing – a bit like psychopaths. Two, for some reason, I just don’t buy it. And I happen to trust my instincts about these things.’ I pause. ‘You mentioned something about the last few days.’
‘Yes…’ He stares at his hands. ‘Like I said. A few things have happened since last week. Quite big things…’ He pauses for amoment. ‘So, last Friday evening, after I came to see you in the hotel, I went out with my best friend, Joe.’
‘I saw you together. In a bar,’ I say, suddenly remembering.
‘I saw you too,’ he says quietly. ‘You were with a guy.’
‘Big mistake,’ I tell him. ‘And don’t ask why. Suffice to say, I left shortly after you did. Without him.’
‘Oh?’ He looks at me for a moment. ‘Anyway, me and Joe, we were celebrating all the things you celebrate – especially when you’re an arsehole. Success, money, promotion…’ He breaks off. ‘To cut a long story short, on the way home, we were in a car crash.’
‘God.’ Suddenly I feel lightheaded. ‘But you were OK?’
‘I’m fine – mostly.’ He doesn’t elaborate. ‘But Joe…’ His voice wavers. ‘He wasn’t so lucky.’
I frown. ‘What do you mean?’
‘He didn’t make it.’ Forrest’s face is suddenly colourless.
I gasp. ‘He died?’ Shock hits me, the mood instantly changing. Reaching out a hand, I touch his arm. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Thanks. So am I. Joe was a truly good guy.’ He swallows. ‘Sorry. I’m still getting my head around everything.’
‘I’m not surprised.’ My heart fills with sympathy for him.
‘Joe…’ Forrest struggles for words. ‘You know, he could easily have been the worst kind of guy. He had money. And he came from a privileged family. But he was actually one of the nicest people you could ever meet.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘He was everything to me.’ His voice is suddenly husky.
I remember what he said in the hotel; how when I offered to call someone, that there wasn’t anyone. ‘We’re lucky to have people like that in our lives,’ I say quietly.
‘I was.’ Forrest stares at his hands. ‘It makes it even more of a waste. Joe made everyone smile. He cared about them. He was there if someone was having a tough time… He thoughtabout other people. It’s why it makes no sense. Given the kind of person he was, it should have been me.’
‘You shouldn’t think like that,’ I say more gently. ‘Things just happen sometimes – and you’ll never find a reason why it was him rather than anyone else. It was random.’
He’s silent for a moment. ‘I’ve tried to imagine a reason for Joe dying. But nothing good comes of losing someone like him.’
In my bleaker moments, I’ve asked myself similar questions about the fairness of life. ‘No,’ I say quietly. ‘Something like that changes the way you look at everything.’
‘You’re not wrong.’ He shakes his head slowly. ‘It doesn’t seem possible that I am no longer that arrogant cretin who came marching into your hotel, defending the act of a selfish client who was cheating on her husband and probably off her head on something. But since the crash, nothing’s been the same.’ A look of uncertainty washes over his face. ‘I can’t focus on anything. As for work… Right now, I can’t imagine going back. And without Joe, without my career, if that’s what it comes to, I suppose I’m not sure who I am.’
‘You’ll work it out,’ I say softly. ‘It’s one of those defining moments, isn’t it?’ I pause. ‘One of those lines that once you’ve crossed, there’s no going back from.’
He nods. ‘I guess so. The weird thing is, I think I’m already working it out. I already know I’m not that person any more. And I’m glad,’ he adds fiercely. ‘My life needed to change – between you and me, I’ve realised I didn’t like the arsehole lawyer all that much.’
