The Tale of Jenya’s Best Mate

It was the end of September, and a mournful procession shuffled slowly past a grey stone coffin at the old Manchester Cemetery. Victor lowered his head, his steps faltering as he stared at the ground, trying to make sense of the mess his life had become. His mind was a blank, his feelings as dead as the body inside the casket.

Eighteen years earlier

Back in Year1, Victor and Evanthen two scrappy firstgradersbumped into each other on the playground and promptly turned the whole lot of them into a proper dustup. They rolled around on the grass, splattering their uniform with mud, while a cheering crowd of classmates shouted encouragement.

Come on, Evan, give him a go! one yelled.

Knock him out, Victor! roared another.

In a sudden twist, Evan clamped his teeth on his opponents ear. The startled boy yelped, clutched his ear, and the fight froze. Victors cheek was slick with blood as the bell rang, signalling the end of recess.

Of course the boys patched things up. From that day on, Victor and Evan were inseparable. Victor became the teachers petalways the first hand upwhile Evan earned a reputation as a Cgrader who could never sit still. Teachers scolded him, mates teased him, but they still shared the same bench for ten whole years. Their interests overlapped enough to keep the rivalry friendly.

Then both fell for the same girl from the neighbouring class: a thin, blonde lass named Poppy, whose eyes were as blue as a summer lake. She danced in the school troupe, and the boys spent every break trying to impress her, each hoping shed pick his side. Poppy never rushed a decision; she kept them both guessing. School days flew by, the graduation ceremony boomed, and everyone went off in different directions.

Victor dreamed of university, but the competition was fierce and his familys modest savings didnt stretch to tuition fees. He ended up at the local further education college instead. Evan, on the other hand, came from a welltodo family; his parents didnt mind splurging on his education, but he had no desire to bury himself in textbooks. To everyones surprise, he took an apprenticeship at a garage, a choice that later proved both shrewd and profitable.

Poppy wasnt keen on academia either. She joined a touring dance company and headed abroad to earn a livinga onceinalifetime gamble that paid off.

Even though they spread across the country, the trio kept in touch, phonecalling whenever they could. Victor and Evan met most often, hanging out in coffee shops and clubs, each trying to outwit the other with daring plans. Life felt like a perpetual night out.

After college, Victor landed a job at an engineering plant and enrolled in a parttime degree. Evan, after a few years of mastering car repairs, opened his own garage with his parents backing. Within three years he owned a sleek sports car and was proudly calling himself a businessman.

Poppys fiveyear contract abroad came to an end, and she returned home. The gang arranged a reunion, each nervous about who shed favor. They gathered at a nearby pub, waiting for her to arrive. Victors heart hammered like a drum.

Evan, look at my tiedoes it pass muster? Victor whispered, tugging his shirt collar.

Dont worry, materelax. Have a pint for courage, Evan replied, feigning cool.

Ladies and gentlemen, look at you twowhat a pair! Poppy called out as she swept into the room, her smile bright enough to blind.

Hey there, Poppy! Evan bowed theatrically, pulling her chair back and kissing her hand.

Hi! Victor muttered, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth for the rest of the night.

The evening turned into a nostalgic stroll down memory lane. Evan spent the whole night dancing with Poppy, while Victor watched from the sidelines, mumbling to himself, What are my chances? Evans got a workshop, a nice car, and a steady cash flow. I live with my parents and my bank account sounds like a cats meow.

Later, as they escorted Poppy homejust like the old daysVictor finally gathered the courage. He waited at her doorstep, rehearsed his lines, and rang the bell. To his shock, Poppy opened the door and said yes with a grin.

Youre serious? Victor asked, halfexpecting a joke.

Yes, yes, yes! Poppy squealed, planting a kiss on his cheek.

He rushed home to tell Evan. What did she see in me? I have nothing to offer I still cant believe it. Im taking a leapwill you be my best man?

Of course, Evan agreed, then added, Funny you mention that I actually made a move on her once.

Victor raised an eyebrow. Really? What happened?

Evan sighed. She turned me down flat. Im not exactly the highroller shed wantshe needs a stable bloke, not a playboy.

Victor laughed. Youre the playboy, mate. Im the hardworking lad whos finally getting lucky.

They clapped each other on the back, chuckling like schoolboys.

The wedding was a raucous affair. Victor and Poppy moved into a brandnew flat shed bought with her overseas earnings. Victor felt a bit out of his depth, but Poppy teased him, Dont worry, lovebreakfast in bed is on the house! She turned out to be a practical, witty partner, opening her own dance studio and making a tidy living. Their married life settled into a comfortable rhythm.

Evan never stayed on the sidelines. He became the unofficial family friend, helping with everything from grocery runs to picking Poppy up from a rehearsal when the weather turned nasty. Once, when Poppy twisted an ankle during a routine, Evan whisked her to the hospital and stayed for the whole recovery. He was practically a guardian angel for the couple.

Neighbours started whispering that Victor was a bit of a softie, letting his wife lean on Evan for everything. Victor, whys Evan always glued to your wife? theyd ask.

Enough, Victor, Poppy would laugh, What would we do without him?

Victor would shrug, embrace her, and feel no real resentment. Life went on, a merrygoround of everyday chores.

One crisp autumn afternoon, the phone rang in their flat.

Victor, its meEvans dad, a deep male voice announced.

Ah, MrHarrison! Good to hear from you. How are things? Victor replied cheerfully.

Theres been an accidentEvan didnt make it. He crashed yesterday.

Victors world stopped. The words hung in his ears, and a cold knot formed in his throat. He could barely breathe, a lump choking his voice. The loss of his best mate hit him like a freight train.

Poppy, already eight months pregnant, steadied him. She took over the details, telling him the funeral arrangements. Victor was numb, his mind refusing to accept that his companion of a decade was gone. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his vision blurred.

He chose to stay home, shielding Poppy from the shock. He attended the funeral alone, and after the service, he lingered by the grave, unable to move. He stared at Evans smiling portrait on the tombstone, fists clenched.

Evan, mate, he whispered, voice cracking, Thank you for the years, the laughs, the mischief. Ill never forget you.

Tears streamed down his face. Poppys due any day now. If theres a heaven, I beg youlet Evans spirit be with us when our child arrives.

A year slipped by. Their son was ten months old, and they named him Ethan, after his late uncle. Victor was amazed at the uncanny resemblancesame cheeky grin, the same spot on his left forearm, even the same stubborn spark in his eyes. He found comfort in the likeness, though a part of him wondered if fate had truly answered his desperate plea.

Ethan, youre really him, arent you? Victor pleaded, cradling the baby, eyes fixed on the window, You were the cleverest of us all. I miss you terribly!

Suddenly the infant let out a squeal, clutched his own ear, and giggled.

Is that you? Victor asked, halflaughing, halfcrying.

The baby wrinkled his nose and laughed again, as if saying, Gotcha!