Stupid Stewart

I saw you at the Pelican crossing behind the railway station yesterday evening. You were wearing a new dark blue waterproof - I assumed it was new, as I hadn't seen it before - and you were holding that horrid old backpack with the dodgy strap that you always use for carrying your laptop.

I could see a teddy bear's head sticking out of the front pocket of your backpack. I wanted it to be the cute little bear that I gave you for your birthday last year. We called him Stewart, remember? Stewart. Our cuddly wee mascot. At least, that's what I called him. You called him Stupid Stewart and that upset me.

But I wasn't sure. I couldn't see a ribbon round his neck. Stewart came with a smart tartan ribbon. Royal Stewart tartan. A bold, devil-may-care statement.

What is it, with you and bears? You don't even like them - well, that's what you told me - but there you were yesterday, carrying one in your rucksack like a taunt. A goad! Was it Stewart? I'll never know.

I had just bought myself a rather bitter cappucino from the stall by the news-stand, and I nearly dropped it when I caught sight of you. My hands were shaking. You couldn't possibly have seen me, of course. You were in the sunlight, outside. I was standing inside, on the walkway that leads to Princes Street. In the shadows. Watching the trains. Yes, I still like to watch the trains, and the names of stations on the arrivals board. Inverkeithing, Kirkcaldy, Ladybank, Leuchars...

You said we would always be friends. All the same, I didn't feel I could call your name or rush over to meet you. You never sent me your new phone number, for one thing. I can't text you any more. I love you, I love you. How is Stewart? Behaving himself today? What would you like for tea? When are you coming home? I miss you. Perhaps you forgot. Perhaps... Perhaps is such a coward's word. A convenient opportunity for denial. Why couldn't you just SAY?

I knew you disliked Stewart from the off. He was an imposition. When I presented him to you I hoped you liked him really, deep down, but if I'm honest I knew you didn't. I knew you wouldn't, even as I was choosing him in that naff little souvenir shop on the Royal Mile. At the time I didn't want to notice the poorly-veiled look of contempt in your eye but thinking back to it now it really cut me to the quick. I knew it was too much, at the time. We were well past the teddy bear stage weren't we, by then? I knew it. I just couldn't stand the thought of that final slamming shut of the door. But jamming your foot in it can't last. It hurts too much. I knew that too but I did it anyway.

It was the beginning of the end, that bear. For us. No - it was the end. It was. It was.

If I could get my hands on Stewart now, I'd rip his fucking legs off.

- THE END -