The Ritual

the coffee, but Luke could tell the tension was almost unbearable for
him.
    ‘I’m sorry, mate. I mean, really sorry. About this morning. It was just . . . unacceptable.’
    Dom did not respond for a while. And each second of silence thickened the chilly air about the campsite. When he did speak, his voice was calm. ‘It was. But stuff your apology right up
your arse. I don’t want it. And unless it’s a strict matter of our survival, I don’t want to exchange a single word with you until we get home.’
    Luke looked at Hutch, who winced and pursed his lips, but continued to busy himself with the coffee preparations.
    Luke’s temperature rose and warmed his entire sheath of skin. He felt light-headed and choked up with emotion. All over again. Self-pity. Anger. Regret. Every-fucking-thing as usual,
thickening his throat like the mumps, blocking his mouth with the taste of iron. ‘Fair enough.’
    ‘Too right it’s fair enough. And I swear, if you even go for one of us again, you’ll get more than you bargained for.’
    Had they a strategy to defend themselves against him then? Had he been discussed? Of course he had been; when he was out ahead, walking point. The fight was an event that would have commanded
any breath they had left for debate.
    ‘Like you were blameless.’ He was speaking on instinct again. That terrible instinct that he could barely control when he felt aggrieved, which if he were honest, was every morning
on his way to work on the London Underground and then for the best part of every day at work in a second-hand record shop.
    ‘Eh? I provoked you, did I? Into what you did? I deserved that? You’re a bloody psycho.’
    ‘Dom,’ Hutch said, his tone stern.
    ‘Leave it, Luke,’ Phil said. ‘Just leave it. You’ve done enough for one day.’
    ‘Piss off.’ It was out of his mouth before he spared a fraction of a second to consider it.
    ‘Here we go again,’ Dom said.
    Luke took a deep breath. Paused. Looked at the end of his cigarette. ‘You’ve been on my case since London. You think I’m happy being the butt of all your jokes,
mate?’
    ‘Oh poor you. Boo fucking hoo.’
    ‘You’re doing it again. Belittling me. Why?’
    ‘Can it, Luke,’ Hutch said, his voice sounding tired.
    ‘Why? Why is it whenever I speak, it’s too tedious for you all to listen? What do I say that is so inappropriate, or stupid?’
    ‘Maybe it is,’ Dom said.
    Luke ignored the comment, knowing it was an attempt to get back at him for the humiliation Dom felt about the fight. ‘I can’t believe any of us used to be friends.’
    Dom kept it up. ‘We’re not any more, so don’t strain yourself.’
    Suddenly, Luke did not regret a single punch he had landed on Dom’s face. ‘What the fuck am I doing here, with you? I’ve been thinking that since you all showed up at my
flat.’
    Dom propped himself up on his elbow, so Luke could see his tight flat face in the dark entrance of the tent. ‘Well maybe you should have said something then and spared us all your company
for the last few days.’
    Luke laughed out loud. ‘Forget what happened this morning, which is seeming more justifiable now, by the way, but just put that aside for one moment, and tell me. Tell me what your problem
is? With me? Come on, let’s have it.’
    ‘Luke!’ Hutch barked.
    ‘No. Piss off.’ Luke moved his eyes back to Dom and spoke slowly. ‘What is it that I have done? Tell me. You’ve been breaking my balls non-stop. Everything I say, you
contradict. I’m not entitled to an opinion. Anything I say is rewarded with a sarcastic comment from either you or Phil. Or you look at each other with those pathetic half-smiles. Why?
I’ve done my best to get along here, but no matter what I do, it’s like I’ve committed some cardinal error to provoke this contempt. Because that is what it is. Contempt. But I am
goddamned if I know what it is that I have done to deserve it. And this is what I want to know now. So tell me.’
    No one spoke.
    ‘Things have changed Luke. We’ve all moved on,’ Hutch said.
    ‘What does that mean? Really mean?’
    ‘We’re different people now. People move apart. Time does that. No big deal.’
    ‘It is a big deal if you invite someone on a camping trip and then exclude them and make them feel like shit. And even when everything has gone to shit, you’ve still kept it
up.’
    ‘You’re overreacting,’ Phil said.
    ‘If we’ve made you feel that way, I