Chinese Whispers

Chinese Whispers

           ‘Can you explain what happened?’ The police officer pushed a cup of tea towards me. ‘Surely Mr. Watts must have had a reason to punch you?’ I took a sip and winced; the hot liquid hurt my loosened molar.

           ‘I’m not sure I really know,’ I ventured cautiously. ‘You see, we were at this party…’

***

It was beautiful. The hall had been decorated in red and gold, with a magnificent paper dragon hanging from the double height ceiling. The waiting staff had all ben dressed in matching cheongsam dresses and tang suits. Sandra’s parents had really gone all out to throw her the best possible birthday party. She had been my friend since college, but I’d never been to her parents’ estate before. She was one of the loveliest people I knew; pretty, smart, immeasurably kind and generous. I wasn’t the only one to think so, everyone in our friend group had felt that. I knew that she wasn’t poor, but I had never known that she came from the kind of wealth others can only dream of, because she never showed any sense of entitlement. Throughout the long years that I knew her, there was never anything other than friendship between us, but I counted her as one of my best and most valued friends.

           I wasn’t the only one who was a little worried for her when she married Richard Watts. Sure, he was handsome and intelligent, and all the girls – as well as some of the boys – had a crush on him, but we never really trusted him, really. He was suave and charming, in a slick, can’t-put-my-finger-on-it way. He came across to me as ambitious and quite ruthless. He didn’t come from money at all, and it quickly became clear to me that he was a braggart. He blabbed about everything: about girls who were into him, about deals that he’d made, about possessions that belonged to him: he always wanted to show people that he was better, richer and more successful than anyone else, even when he wasn’t.

           I didn’t really care for Richard much. Other than being Sandra’s husband, I didn’t really have anything to do with him. But I did keep in touch with her; we called each other almost every week and met up for lunch or dinner regularly. I guess I was her gay best friend: we spoke about anything and everything, but she never hinted at any problems in her marriage. To me, though, she seemed to fade as the years passed.

           They had been married for about six years when I started to think that all was not well in the Watts household. Rumors started circulating about Richard’s fidelity. Over the years, I heard stories from numerous people about how Richard had been seen with different women. From what I heard, they were always young and pretty, and apparently head over heels with him. I’m ashamed to say that I never told Sandra that I had heard gossip about Richard, because that’s what it seemed to be: malicious hearsay. I didn’t have any proof other than whispers and snippets of conversations. On top of that, Sandra was such a lovely person, I didn’t have the heart to cause her any pain.

           About three weeks ago, I received the invitation from Sandra’s parents: it was a beautiful card, embossed in black, red and gold. ‘Mr. and Mrs. Michael McKenzie cordially invite you and your guest to celebrate the 40th birthday of their daughter, Sandra Watts-McKenzie’, it read. It was clearly going to be a black-tie event, and I was clearly expected to bring someone. Which was a problem for me: my boyfriend David had walked out on me just days before, and I wasn’t really in the mood to find a date for the night. I just wanted to be single for a while. Besides, I wasn’t entirely sure how a gay couple would fit in at what promised to be a very fancy ball.

           Briony is my neighbor. She moved into the block recently from out of town, and didn’t really know anyone around. We had chatted a couple of times. I felt we got along well. I ran into her in the communal laundry room about a week ago, and I told her about this party. She practically begged me to be my plus one. It seemed like a fine idea at the time.

           I did have some reservations when I picked her up from her apartment yesterday. Her outfit seemed just a bit tacky to me. It was red, sequinned and low-cut, and had a split all the way up to the middle of her thigh. She looked sultry. But what do I know about women’s party dresses? I have never had any reason to learn what is or isn’t a suitable dress for a glamorous party like this one, or for any other occasion. When it came to clothing, I was kept busy enough with my black tie, which just wouldn’t sit straight. However, when we arrived at the mansion, I did notice Sandra’s frown when she beheld Briony getting out of the car, but her greeting was perfectly kind and courteous. She hugged me and then chatted to Briony while guiding us to the party. Richard, in the meantime, grabbed by hand and shook it, squeezing as hard as he could, just like he always did.

           ‘Va va voom!’, he blurted in my ear when the ladies were out of earshot. ‘Where did you find that piece of ass?’ I held my tongue. ‘Are you doing her?’ he enquired with a leering look at Briony’s behind.

           ‘Doing her?’

           ‘Yeah, have you created the two-headed monster? Played hide-and-seek? Batter-dipped the corn dog? Have you put the banana in the fruit salad?’ I stopped myself from physically recoiling.

           ‘Do you mean, have I had sexual relations with Briony? No, of course not, I’m gay. You know that. And have some respect.’ It had long been clear to me that ‘gay’ was not something Richard really understood. I don’t think it ever entered into his head that there might be men who weren’t attracted to women.

           ‘Yeah, right. I know you faggots: you always pretend you don’t like girls, but in the meantime you take whatever you can get.’ He winked at me and walked away.

The party was actually a lot of fun. Mr. and Mrs. McKenzie had invited a lot of old friends and acquaintances from our college days, and it almost felt like a mini college reunion. I saw many people I had lost contact with over the years, and I spent most of my time chatting and catching up, and I quickly lost all sense of time. I’m sorry to say the other thing I had lost was Briony. She vanished quite early in the evening; she wasn’t the only woman in red that evening, and I kept seeing flashes of scarlet, even when I wasn’t looking. Whenever I did see her, she was the center of - mostly male - attention, and seemed happy, so I let her be. Only when the night was coming to an end did I realize that she had been missing for a while.

           ‘Have you seen Richard?’ Sandra asked me, with worry in her eyes. ‘I can’t find him.’ I thought for a while.

           ‘No, not for the last hour, at least.’ I looked around. ‘I can’t see Briony either. Do you think he might be showing her around?’ Sandra looked relieved at my suggestion.

           ‘Yes, that must be it. If you see him, can you tell him I was looking for him? It’s nearly time for the fireworks.’ She walked off to talk to another couple. I walked around some more, nodding at acquaintances here and there, but not stopping to talk to anyone. I felt as if I had a lead weight sitting on my chest. Not long after, people started moving towards the patio, which had been beautifully lit by softly glowing paper lanterns. I waited until I’d seen that almost all the guests had gone out, then followed them, which is when I finally caught sight of Briony again. She looked a bit disheveled. I didn’t have a lot of time before the fireworks started, however. The beauty of the display took all my attention until I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Richard, and he looked very pleased with himself. He whispered something in my left ear.

           Now, you need to know something. When I was a kid, I had an accident, and it damaged the hearing in my left ear. You can’t see anything from the outside, and I still have some hearing in it, but it’s never been as good as my right ear, and, especially when there are loud noises around, I have trouble understanding what people are saying. And in this case, I really didn’t understand a word of what Richard was whispering to me and I told him so. He spoke again, a little louder, but to no avail. He looked around furtively, and spoke louder still.

           ‘Sorry, did I understand you correctly?’ I asked, ‘did you just say you had a brownie? Why should I care?’ the ground shook as a particularly loud explosion of fireworks blew up - apparently the climax of the display.

           ‘NO, YOU MORON!’ Richard shouted, ‘I HAD BRIONY!’ Unfortunately, he shouted it just as the fireworks had stopped and all the guests were silent. All faces turned towards us. I caught sight of Sandra: her eyes were wide, and all the blood seemed to have drained from her face. ‘Oh no’, I remember thinking, before she wheeled around and lunged at Briony, grabbing her hair and yanking hard. And that’s the last thing I know, really. At the same time, I was jerked around.

           ‘You bastard!’ is the last thing I heard before Richard’s fist connected with my face and I knew no more. When I came to, Ronald was in handcuffs, being led to a police car. I was told by the paramedic to try not to move. I saw Sandra sitting on the patio step, being comforted by her mother, while Mr. McKenzie was shouting at Briony.

***

‘So there you have it. That’s why I got punched.’ I finally looked up from the depths of my tea mug. The police officer was struggling to keep her face straight. As our eyes connected, she lost her composure and burst out laughing.