North Point

by Thom Collins

  “Yes, that’s all true. It’s only the pen name that’s made up.”

  “Is that because of the Official Secrets Act?”

  “No,” he said, bemused. “That would only come into play if I wanted to write a memoir. Because my books are all fiction, it doesn’t matter. I decided to use a pen name for privacy. I would probably sell more copies if I put a photo on the cover and went on a publicity tour, signing books and giving readings, that kind of thing.”

  “Why don’t you? If it means selling more.”

  “I don’t want to, and I don’t need to. The books have done all right. Well enough for them to publish more. I’m happy to be an unknown author.”

  “I understand that.” Arnie looked straight into his eyes, without embarrassment, seemingly without fear of intimacy. “How long were you in the services?”

  “Fourteen years in all. I joined at eighteen rather than go to university. It was the making of me, though I suppose it was already in my blood. My father was in the RAF and we moved around a lot when I was young. I loved everything about the life. The service, the discipline, the honour and the travel. The danger and excitement. I’ve always been somewhat of an adrenaline junkie and the marines was perfectly suited to that. That’s why I applied to the Boat Service when I was twenty-six, to chase a bigger high.”

  “Why give it up when you loved it so much?”

  He shrugged. “Everything has its time, I suppose. I was in my early thirties and ready for something different. All I’d ever known were the services. I wanted something…normal. A house, a dog, a place to call home at last.”

  “And you came here?”

  “I don’t know why I chose this town over any other. I wanted space, so a city was out of the question. I wanted a project, and the house was pretty run down when I bought it, so the redevelopment kept me busy. And there was the lifeboat, which satisfied my love of the sea and my need for action.”

  Talking to Arnie was easy. Dominic opened up to him in ways he wouldn’t have thought possible. The only other person he could communicate with like this was Jacob, and they had been friends for years.

  “You sound like superman,” Arnie said in a good-natured way. “Your books, the lifeboat, renovating your own house. There doesn’t appear to be anything you can’t turn your hand to.”

  “I’m not much of a cook,” he said with a laugh. “What about you? I feel like I’ve done all the talking. Tell me something about you.”

  Arnie sighed. “I hate talking about myself. Whenever I have a movie or a show to promote, I end up doing a long round of press and answer the same old questions. Most of my answers are pre-rehearsed.”

  “So, tell me something real. Not about Arnie the actor. I want to know about the man and the father.”

  “That’s even harder to do.”

  “Okay. Tell me what you hate. What pisses you off? I mean really drives you mad.”

  He took another sip of beer, seeming to give it some thought. “I can’t stand rudeness and unprofessionalism. Even worse, when those things go together. Actors or directors who treat people on the crew like shit, like they’re nothing. Everyone had a job to do and they’re all equally important to a production. I hate it when people don’t get that.”

  “What else?”

  “Buffets,” he said with a laugh. “I can’t stand buffets.”

  “What’s wrong with them?”

  Arnie screwed up his face. “Everything. Standing in line, the indecision, piling up a plate with crap you really don’t want to eat. There’s so much waste.”

  Dominic laughed. “I don’t think I agree, but I can see where you’re coming from. Sort of. Now tell me about something you do like.”

  “Okay,” Arnie said, getting into it. “I love Italian food. Greek too. Especially their lamb dishes. I like red wine and vodka cocktails.”

  “We’ll have to differ there. I hate red wine. I don’t much like wine at all. But I’m with you on the food. I love Greek and Italian cooking.”

  “Wine goes perfectly with that kind of food. A nice bottle of red with a slow-cooked piece of lamb or beef. I can’t imagine anything better.”

  Arnie looked him straight in the eyes. His pupils were large and dilated. Dominic was suddenly emboldened. What was he waiting for? There might never be another chance like this one.

  “Would you like to go out with me?” The words came freely from his mouth. “If you like that kind of food, we’ve got some great restaurants all along the coast. I’d love to check them out. Maybe you can even convert me about the wine.”

  Arnie’s broad smile grew straight and serious. The silence as he looked across the table was interminable. Fuck. I’ve read the signals completely wrong. He isn’t interested in me at all. Why would he be?

  Arnie’s eyes were hard to read. “What about Gabriel?”

  Dominic swallowed before answering. “What about him?”

  “I thought you two were an item,” Arnie said, tilting his head to one side.

  “An item? Why? Did he tell you we were?”

  “No. Actually, he didn’t. It was my mother who did.”

  Dominic let out a long breath. “That’s the downside of living in a small town. Everyone thinks they know what’s going on.”

  Arnie leaned closer. “Sorry. I took her at her word. Does that mean you’re not seeing him?”

  Damn it! What should he do now? Lie? No, that was not the way forward. He liked Arnie too much to lie to him now. It could fuck up any chance he might have.

  “We had a thing,” he said, struggling for a way to describe the situation that didn’t sound completely sleazy. “I think your mother, and a few other people, would like it to be a lot more than that, but the truth is, it isn’t. It never was.”

  “I don’t understand. Are you seeing him or not?”

  “There’s no nice way of putting this, so I’ll just say it. We were fuck buddies.”

  Arnie’s eyebrows shot up and he sat back in his seat.

  “Sorry,” Dominic continued, watching his chances slip away. “That’s all it ever was. Just two guys helping each other out. We didn’t go on dates or buy each other presents. It was just sex. We can’t have been as discreet as I thought we were if people are talking, but that’s all that we were, friends with benefits.”

  Arnie smiled and shook his head. His shock and disappointment were obvious. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

  “I want to. And I’m not asking you out because I expect the same from you. There’s nothing between me and Gabriel. I don’t want the idea to colour your judgement of me. I want to go out with you because I’m interested in you. I feel something for you. I don’t know what it is, but I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met last Sunday.” Now his mouth was running wild on him, but he couldn’t stop. Maybe Arnie wasn’t interested. Maybe he didn’t fancy him. He could handle that. He just didn’t want to be rejected over some misunderstanding with Gabriel.

  Arnie leaned forward again. “I like you too,” he said quietly. “A lot. It’s just that there’s so much going on in my life right now. I brought AJ here to give him some stability, and I don’t think the time is right for me to start seeing someone. Not when his mother is splashed all over the media.”

  Dominic would not give in that easily. “I get that, and I’m willing to take things as quietly and as slowly as you want them. Let me take you out somewhere, this week, next week, I don’t care when—just give me something to hope for.”

  Arnie looked at him carefully, seemingly undecided.

  “If the thing about Gabriel bothers you, why not talk to him first?” Dominic pressed. “He might not be thrilled at the idea, but I know you’re old friends. I don’t think he’d lie to you.”

  “That might be an awkward conversation,” Arnie said with a hint of amusement. “Would you be okay if I went to dinner with your fuck buddy? As long you’re done with him, of course.”

  “I’ll speak to him on your beha
lf,” he said.

  “You sure are keen,” Arnie said, breaking into a broad grin. “All right. I’ll take a chance on you.”

  “You will?” His soul rose up.

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “Let’s say this week sometime. I don’t have your freedom. I’ll need to talk someone into babysitting. I’ll let you know tomorrow when I get something arranged.”

  “Any time you like. I don’t have any other plans, and if I did, I’d change them.”

  Dominic’s smile was uncontrollable. Today had been a triumph in all sorts of ways, and now it had just got better.

  Chapter Ten

  Arnie crossed the bridge to the south side of the river and began the ascent to Cliff House. A beautiful day had given way to a perfect evening. The cloudless sky had deepened in color to a rich blue. It would soon be twilight. It was balmy too, without a breath of wind from the sea to cool the still heat.

  Arnie’s mood was as clear as the sky after spending time with Dominic. The chemistry between them affected him more deeply than the alcohol they had drunk. His steps were light as he followed the steep path up the cliff. His body tingled from the top of his scalp to his toes. Feathery fingers of electricity skittered down his spine. He did not feel like a thirty-four-year-old man, more like fourteen. Only better. Arnie laughed.

  It was ridiculous.

  He’d never experienced these emotions before, not even when he was young. He’d been too busy building a career and hiding his feelings to get excited about boys.

  And Dominic was exciting. No one who spent more than a minute with him could deny that. It was more than his stunning looks or the amazing things he’d done with his life. It was his charm and charisma—they seemed unlimited and radiated from him.

  Now they were going on a date. Arnie smiled just thinking about it. A date.

  At my age. How old-fashioned. How exciting.

  Part of him remained cautious. There was no doubt that he’d get a babysitter for AJ. His parents would watch him any time he asked. Sophie too. The childcare story was a ruse, giving him an excuse to take things slowly. He would call Dominic tomorrow after sleeping on the idea.

  There was little chance of changing his mind, but he had to think about more than himself. AJ was his top priority. Arnie had no intention of putting his personal life on hold until AJ went off to college, but this was a strange time for both of them. He’d brought his son to Nyemouth so they could spend the summer together. Not to hook up with some random guy after just one week.

  Dominic was no random guy, that was true. He was intelligent, brave, charming, and Arnie’s parents were already in awe of him. Only Arnie couldn’t afford to take it at face value. He’d met Dominic three times, all inside a week. And his parents didn’t really know him as well as they thought they did. His mother was happy to spread the rumor that Dominic and Gabriel were in a relationship, when in fact they were just friends with benefits.

  And what about that? Should he talk to Gabriel before agreeing to this date? Check he wasn’t stepping on anyone’s toes. That would not be an easy conversation. They might be lifelong friends, but Arnie and Gabriel had never been able to talk about intimate stuff. Their careers, their hobbies, music and movies were all fair game, but emotions and sex had always been taboo. There had been a handful of times in the past when he’d offered some personal insight during one of their conversations. Without exception, Gabriel had shut it down and changed the subject.

  Arnie had always figured he wasn’t comfortable and left things alone.

  So how would he broach this matter?

  Hey, I hear you’ve been fucking Dominic. Anything you want to tell me before I take a ride?

  Gabriel would have a fit.

  The fact that he had a casual sex life was a major surprise in itself. Arnie believed his unwillingness to talk about sex meant he had no interest in it. Yet here he was, the fuck buddy of the hottest man in town.

  It proves you never really know someone.

  And was even more reason to be careful.

  He didn’t know Dominic at all. Looks and first impressions weren’t everything. They could go on a date and spend time getting to know each other better, but he would have to be sure of him before allowing it to go any further. The stability of his family was at stake, and there was no way he’d risk that for a hot guy with a juicy arse.

  Arnie paused three-quarters of the way home. He’d reached the foot of the steps that would take him to the top of the cliff. He stopped for a moment to admire the view of the town below. The river and the water of the marina were perfectly still, like a topaz mirror. On Sunday evening, the harbor was full, with most of the fishing boats home from the sea. This time tomorrow there would only be a fraction of the fleet down there.

  Most of the visitors had left now they had packed away the fair, though the waterfront still looked busy, with The Lobster Pot and various takeaway outlets doing great business.

  Not for the first time, a wave of nostalgia for the town hit Arnie. He’d always known a part of his soul lingered in Nyemouth. He’d traveled around the world, but none of the places he’d visited or worked influenced him like this. New York, Hollywood, Rome, Sydney, the south coasts of Italy and Greece—he loved them, but not as much as Nyemouth.

  Now, more than ever, this felt like home.

  His gaze moved high above the town, to South Bank Terrace, just about opposite from where he stood— one of the oldest streets in Nyemouth. He wondered which of the sandstone houses belonged to Dominic. Jacob Chisholm owned the second from the end nearest the cliff. He’d lived there all of Arnie’s life. Dominic had said Jacob was his neighbor. That could mean anything. It didn’t have to be the house next door. Even from here, on the other side of the valley, he could see how Dominic had fallen in love with the place. Perched above the river, with panoramic views of the sea and shore, South Bank Terrace wasn’t just prime real estate for Nyemouth, but this whole area of the North East coast.

  He turned and headed up the steps. Sophie would have AJ home soon. The little man would be worn out after a long day and Arnie wanted him in bed by nine.

  There was still no breeze, even at the top of the cliff, but the air was cool and salty. Arnie filled his lungs and smiled as he walked along the side of the road toward the house.

  I could get used to living here again. It was a tempting thought, but unrealistic. As idyllic as Nyemouth was, it was too removed from his work opportunities.

  Approaching the house, Arnie was pleased to see there were no cars parked out front. No vehicles in any direction. There had been no reporters for three days. It looked like the heat might be off. He hoped so.

  As he came to the front gate of Cliff House, he was distracted, looking forward to the evening ahead, putting AJ to bed and maybe watching TV before turning in early himself. He didn’t notice a sudden movement by the tree to the right of the house. Not at first. Just a dark blur at the edge of his vision.

  He turned his head quickly and saw—thought he saw—a figure run from the base of the tree around the far side of the house.

  Suddenly he was alert.

  A dark figure, like the one last Sunday on the cliff. Sandy Costello’s attacker. No. He was mistaken. It couldn’t be.

  Why not? The police had yet to arrest anyone for the incident. The attacker was still at large.

  And here now?

  It was a waste of time to speculate. Arnie hurried toward the corner where the figure had disappeared, more angry than afraid. He had no weapon and there was nothing in front of the house he could improvise with. He didn’t care. He’d had extensive fight training for several of his films so he knew how to take care of himself. And at six-foot-four, if anyone tried to take him on, it would be their loss.

  No fucking mercy.

  He turned the corner. The long exterior wall of the house and garden ran in a straight line ahead, reflecting golden light in the evening sun. To the right was a patch of lilac
, too short to conceal someone, and in the distance a wooded area of black poplar trees. If the figure tried to make for them, he would see them.

  Meaning only one thing. They had gone behind the house.

  Moving fast, keeping to the side, Arnie followed. The garden wall was too high for anyone to scramble over. There was no ivy or nearby trees to aid anyone in an attempt. The woods were nearer here. From the cover of the wall, the stranger could have made it to the dark protection of the poplars without being seen.

  Arnie scanned the dense tree line and saw no one. It was useless. The shadows were so deep, a figure dressed in black would become invisible just a yard or two inside.

  God damn. He doubted himself. Had he really seen anyone at all? The movement had been so fast, just a glimpse from the corner of his eye. He’d had a few drinks in town and hadn’t been completely alert when he’d seen it.

  Bullshit. Three drinks did not affect him that much, and he’d had his eyes tested five weeks ago. He needed glasses to read, but his distance and peripheral sight were near perfect. It had been no trick of the light or imagination. What he’d seen was real.

  Arnie walked the full perimeter of the house. Careful. Alert. He looked and listened, detecting nothing. The background noise was barely perceptible on such a still evening—he couldn’t even hear the waves on the beach. Returning to the front gate, it was clear he was alone.

  The figure he’d seen must have made off into the woods under the cover of the back wall. It was the only possible conclusion. Arnie was more concerned about who he had seen than where they’d gone.

  It could have been a journalist or photographer. Except, from experience, he knew they were more likely to rush toward their target, camera or microphone raised, than run away from them. Which left him with the grim possibility that the person who’d thrown Sandy Costello from the cliff had sought the only witnesses to the crime.

  * * * *

  The following morning, Arnie sat at the desk in the ground floor office. Behind him, Police Community Support Officer Narinder Shah looked over his shoulder as he cued up the CCTV footage.