The Ritual

white-blond mop of hair had lost
its boyish lustre too. It was still thick, but had plastered itself to his scalp with sweat and rain and not revived itself indoors. Around his mouth and eyes, Luke noted the deep lines that looked
like slices cut into fresh pastry.
    It had taken Phil most of the evening to warm up when they met in London. He’d shown up with a long face and a voice both deep and muttery. He’d hardly spoken until they were all
drunk at around ten. But it had been his girth – the middle-aged spread – that had given Luke a brief shock when seeing him at Hutch’s wedding for the first time in twelve months.
It was something he still had not got used to when they all hooked up in London before the trip. Stretching his blue work shirt taut, Phil’s hairy white stomach had been visible. And his arse
looked bulbous enough to suggest the feminine. They were all supposed to have exercised before the trip. Phil and Dom hadn’t made any effort at all.
    But Phil had really let himself go. Once the biggest peacock of them all, the man’s style had completely gone now. His jeans were pulled far too high these days and his socks were visible
to the anklebone. He didn’t care any more. But why? Phil was loaded. Had made a killing as a property developer in West London. He’d won the career lottery, so why the long face? His
wife, Michelle, that was why. Luke was certain. Michelle was nuts. They all knew it.
    She’d been high-maintenance when Phil met her in their final year at university. Great-looking but difficult. Eating disorders, a maniac pissed, and violently jealous. Luke remembered her
as a tall, difficult creature with long bony feet and hands. What had Phil been thinking? But he’d still gone ahead and married her after graduation. And now they had two daughters and a big
house in Wimbledon. Private-school fees, two cars to run, an apartment in Cyprus, practically a second mortgage in council tax, and according to Hutch they hated each other.
    Luke had never been to their house. Never been invited in the ten years he’d lived in London. Michelle didn’t like him. Didn’t like what he represented, or so he assumed.
Single and still living like a student; a man with no clear goals or purpose as she perceived him; a dreamer; a loser. Everything Phil’s wife despised, but maybe feared too as a source of
temptation to her husband. Some of her disapproval must have rubbed off on Phil. He was harder on Luke’s lifestyle, and more disparaging about his patchy work history than the others. Phil
always made a point of making him feel small when money was involved. He’d been listening to his wife too much. A hypocritical stance it was anyway, as Phil never stood his round, or chipped
in for cab fare whenever they met. He’d even stiffed them on three rounds in Sweden since they arrived. The other two didn’t seem to notice, or if they did they weren’t bothered.
But it stung him. With all his money Phil still wouldn’t buy his mates a drink, and seemed to take every opportunity to joke about Luke’s parlous finances.
    Or did Phil know that Luke had slept with Michelle, a year before he met Phil? In fact, he seemed to remember introducing them to each other. But he’d been intimate with the girl who was
now Phil’s wife. And decided against seeing her again the morning after the Easter Ball. Sixteen years ago, but he could still recall her hissing beneath him, like a cat, not to mention the
way she rolled her eyes back until they were white when she came. Shamefully, after he ejaculated, he had not only struggled to find anything to like about her, but realized he actually disliked
her.
    Only Hutch still seemed to be in great shape and he was the eldest. He climbed, scuba-dived on sunken wrecks in the North Sea, and mountain-biked everywhere back home. He was ranked nationally
in the Masters mountain-biking league and ran his own bike shop out of Helmsley. Last year he’d run the Paris marathon.
    But even though he’d found his friends shelter, built them a fire, and promised to lead them out of this godforsaken place by noon the following day, Luke could tell Hutch was troubled.
He’d kept up the banter and camaraderie since they returned from the room upstairs. Made sure his humour and enthusiasm for adventure and adversity rubbed off on nervous Luke and the two fat
men. But if Luke wasn’t mistaken, Hutch was anxious. If not afraid. And that worried Luke more than