The Sidekick

I should have known it would end like this. People always told me that he was bad for me, that he would lead me astray and not consider the consequences. Looking back over all the years we stood side by side, or more accurately I stood by his side, shrouded in his shadow, it was inevitable I would be betrayed. I guess I thought I was special, that somehow he saw me in a different light to the way he saw everyone else: I guess I thought I was his companion and not another one of his victims.

    We met back in school, when we were both little boys. The first thing that struck me about him was his confidence and the aura of invincibility that he seemed to cloaked in. I was a shy boy, whose social awkwardness often found me ending up on the wrong end of taunts and schoolyard attacks. When he took an interest in me, I dedicated myself to being his best friend. My grades suffered, I spent more time in detention than out of it, and when the truancy officer came and knocked on my door my mum just rolled her eyes and said: I suppose this is Cormac Chambers fault, Paul. I was the only one who understood him, we would often spend days walking around discussing the meaning of life, rather than learning how to solve trigonometry equations. Both our father’s had left at a time when we were old enough to remember them, but too young to hate them for doing it. I always thought this was the glue which bonded us together. That if we shared the same pain, we were linked by some spiritual connection.

   We both finished school together, in so much that we were expelled on the same day, thrown out into the world with no qualifications and no prospects. I remember him saying: we don’t need them anyway. That was his mantra, he needed nobody and the idea of being reliant on somebody else was repellent to him. This often left me with an aching feeling of emptiness, knowing that I could not offer anything to him and that I was in effect obsolete. However, this only served for me to double my efforts with him, to prove my loyalty, to become indispensable: I know how foolish that was looking back, but I was still a kid and he was all I had.

   We dabbled at becoming working men. Interviewing for the same roles and getting the same jobs: me with my diligence and politeness and him with his confidence and charm. It would go alright for a while then Cormac would tell me: it’s time to bail, we’ve been here too long. Rather than just quitting, which would have been my preferred approach, Cormac liked to cause a scene on his exit. He got into a fight with the owner of a bar one night, all because the guy asked him to tuck his shirt in. It turned ugly quickly and only my intervention in dragging Cormac’s unconscious body out the door saved him from a beating that his beautiful face may not have recovered from. When we worked at a fast food restaurant, the manager asked us to leave when Cormac tossed one of his shoes in the deep fat fryer. I still remember the guy asking me: why are you wasting your life hanging around with this him. There was no answer I could think to give, all I could do was shake my head, hand him my hair net and apologise for his fried footwear. 

    After a few years we basically became unemployable and were running out of friends and family to take us in. During one of our late night conversations, I said that we should get something set up on our own and forget everyone else. Cormac’s eyes lit up and gave me one of his big smiles that I longed to see. Now at this point, I assume you think there was more than just friendship between Cormac and me, and in truth, I often wondered that myself. AllI can tell you is that whilst we were as close as brothers, there were no romantic feelings between us. That did not stop other people speculating, which always amused Cormac: let them think what they want to think, he would say. In hindsight, maybe this was the problem? Perhaps we were meant to be together? Well it’s too late for that now, much too late. 

   We started our business together, and wouldn’t you know it was a great success. Cormac was the face of the company, he was the one shaking hands and making deals. I was in the background, crunching numbers, organising everything, keeping him on track and ensuring we operated above board. After a while I started noticing some discrepancies with the finances, small at first, a couple of miscellaneous expenses that did not compute. Then larger omissions that were harder to account for and when the auditors came to check our accounts I had a few sleepless nights, but I shuffled and rejigged things to cover it. One day I went to the bank account and it was all gone. Everything. I waited for Cormac to arrive. 9am became 10am, then lunchtime arrived and when the sun began to dip past my office window I feared the worst. I called his phone throughout the day, leaving angrier messages on each subsequent occasion. I went to his flat. No answer. I even called his mum and she just laughed and told me: you still haven’t learned yet, Paul? I had never learned because I had never been the one on the receiving end. I stood by him when he ruined lives and destroyed relationships, but I thought I was different, I didn’t think it would happen to me. Looking back over the years I spent with him, it would be easy to say that I wasted my life and that I could have become so much more, but for so many years he was there when I needed him. I will always hold a special place in my heart for him and the way he guided me through a time when I was a rudderless little boy who felt alone in an ocean of chaos. I never saw him again and that is for the best. I was moulded by him into someone who could stand on their own and it would break his heart to know that I no longer needed him.