Intimate Strangers

by Susan Lewis

  ‘Eleven adults, and one kid now, which reminds me, I had a call earlier from Karima. Our headmaster friend’s been on again, wanting a rerun with the woman we had to dispose of.’

  ‘Well he’s out of luck there, isn’t he, perverted bastard. Fucking glad I was never in his class at school. What did she tell him?’

  ‘That he had to have someone else. He’s OK with it, apparently, but we’re probably going to need another doctor. One we can put on the payroll.’

  ‘This should have been thought of a long time ago,’ Eddie growled. ‘It’s these kinds of mistakes that are going to end us up in deep shit, and that isn’t somewhere we want to be, Perry.’

  ‘No, of course not. It’ll be sorted. The taxi’s just arrived for Cheryl.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The girl you’ve got in there with you.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, right.’ So that was her name, it had slipped his mind.

  After ringing off he padded over to the bathroom and turned on the shower. The reflection in the mirror told him he really had to lose some weight, or his doctor’s predictions of trouble were going to start happening.

  ‘You getting up now?’ she said, coming to stand in the doorway.

  He turned to look at her and remembered why he liked her. There was a cute, virginal sort of look about her, with her Cupid’s bow lips and Shirley Temple curls, which, when put together with those enormous knockers, reminded him of the first girl he’d ever poked, when he was fifteen and she was … Shit, she’d been twelve.

  ‘Your taxi’s downstairs,’ he told her. ‘Time to run along.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ she said, coming to rub herself against him.

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure. But you can come back tomorrow, around the same time.’

  Her face lit up. ‘Really? That’s great.’

  His eyes narrowed. What was she after, that she wasn’t already getting, he wanted to know.

  As he went to get in the shower, Cheryl returned to the bedroom and began picking up her clothes. As she dressed she was humming tunefully to herself, and glowing with triumph, for this was exactly why she’d got a job at the club, to get in with Eddie Cribbs, and look how long it had taken her. Less than a week. Plus, it had turned out to be a lot better than she’d expected. A bit of oral, then straight for the missionary – and now he’d already invited her back. Just wait till she told the other girls, they’d be sick as parrots, because normally, according to them, his MO was to get someone over here, screw her once, then toss her back in the pile, like he was marking his territory, or sampling the goods, making sure the quality was OK. It was rare, almost unheard of, for anyone to get invited back again, she’d been told, and now she, little Cheryl Burrows, had pulled it off without even trying. She could hardly wait to see their faces, especially Suzy’s, the stuck-up bitch of a star dancer – she was going to be sooo flipped off.

  Still humming softly, she hooked her bag over one shoulder and strutted proudly out of the room. Everyone in the offices would know why she was here, what she’d just been doing, and she was happy for them to know. They’d probably start treating her with a bit more respect once they registered how often she was coming, but for now she was OK with their furtive glances and smothered giggles. Perry was all right though, a real gentleman was Perry, walking her down to the cab like this. It didn’t occur to her that he was making sure she left the building without any impromptu stop-offs or detours, or idly lifting a document or two. But she wasn’t into spying, she was only into her own thing, which was getting to be Eddie Cribbs’s number one girl. And there was no doubt about it, in her mind at least, she was off to a good start.

  Chapter Nine

  THERE WAS NOTHING to prepare Laurie for what was about to happen – no stirring of an instinct, no strange feeling of premonition, not even a fleeting sense of something being not quite right. In fact, as she descended the steps from Tower Bridge and turned under it towards the cobbled street of Shad Thames she was feeling on top of the world. It was just before six in the evening, the sun was still high, and noisy groups of office workers, drinking cocktails and smoking cigarettes, were spilling out of the restaurants and bars on the ground floor of their apartment block. She was suddenly seized with happiness, for the past two days with her parents had gone blissfully smoothly, the latest fitting for her dress had moved her to tears again, as she imagined Elliot turning to watch her come down the aisle, and now she could hardly wait to see him to show him just how much she’d missed him while she was gone.

  As she let herself into the flat the phone started to ring. ‘Hi! I’m back,’ she shouted, closing the door.

  There was no reply, which surprised her, for she’d just spoken to him, as she was crossing the bridge, so he must be here.

  ‘Elliot,’ she called out, from the bottom of the stairs.

  No reply.

  Deciding he must have popped down to the convenience shop – or florist – she dumped her overnight bag ready for him to carry up, then went to glance through the pile of mail he’d left on the kitchen counter. She should probably check her messages, both here and at the office, but she wasn’t in the mood to deal with work right now, so deciding to leave it until later she went upstairs to freshen up a bit before Elliot came back.

  It wasn’t until she was replacing her toothbrush in the holder that it struck her something wasn’t quite right. Frowning, she looked at the place where Elliot’s toothbrush normally was, but for some reason wasn’t. She opened the cabinet to see if it was there, but all she discovered was another empty place, this time where his shaving gear should be.

  Feeling an unsteady beat in her heart, she dabbed her mouth and hands with a towel and went to check his closet. At first it didn’t appear that anything was missing, but on closer inspection she realized there were gaps. Starting to turn cold she reached up to open an overhead cupboard. His suitcase was gone.

  Shock jarred through her body. This was crazy. She’d only spoken to him a few minutes ago. He couldn’t have just run out the minute he put the phone down.

  Hearing the front door slam she rushed to the stairs. She was halfway down when he walked into the sitting room. There didn’t appear to be anything different about him, except there was. It was the way he was looking at her.

  ‘What – what’s going on?’ she said, her voice an unsteady echo in the strangeness. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘Just down to the car,’ he answered.

  ‘Why? Where are you going?’

  He didn’t answer.

  ‘Your things have gone,’ she said, trying to stay calm. ‘Are you going somewhere?’

  He dashed a hand through his hair, and averted his eyes. When he looked at her again she wanted to put up her hands as though to stop what was coming. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I can’t go through with it, Laurie. We can’t get married.’

  She could feel his words coming at her, as though from a distance. They weren’t real, yet the room was tilting and she was starting to shake. ‘What do you mean? I thought …’ She clasped a hand to her mouth as a sob cut her off. ‘Everything’s arranged. The invitations are out.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again.

  She stared at him, knowing what he was saying, but unable to understand.

  ‘Chris is letting me use the flat over his gallery until I can sort something out,’ he told her.

  The blow was still coming, an inexorable, invisible force that seemed to be hitting every part of her. She continued to stare at him, not wanting to believe this was happening, trying to wake herself up from the dream. ‘Sort what out?’ she finally said.

  He swallowed hard. ‘Somewhere to live.’

  ‘But you live here. We live here. We’ve only just moved in.’ She was starting to panic. This was the man she loved, they were getting married in less than four weeks. He couldn’t be leaving like this. He couldn’t mean what he was saying. ‘Why?’ she heard herself suddenly cry. ‘What’s happened to make you decid
e this?’

  ‘Nothing. It’s … I’m …’ He broke off, not sure how to continue. ‘I just can’t go through with it.’

  Her mind was moving in too many directions, trying to find the right words, something, anything that would make him take back what he was saying, feel another way. She was too confused, too afraid. ‘Is this why you’ve been spending so much time with Chris?’ she demanded. ‘You’ve been discussing it with him, before discussing it with me?’ Then the truth suddenly hit her with a blinding clarity. ‘Oh God, this is about Phraxos, isn’t it?’ she cried. ‘You’re ending our relationship, cancelling our wedding even, so you can be free to break your agreement with the Government.’ Even as she said it she was praying it was true, because she could live with that far more easily than she could with the alternative, that he just didn’t want her any more. ‘That’s what you’ve been talking to Chris about, isn’t it? You can’t let it go.’

  ‘Actually, we’ve been arranging your wedding present,’ he told her. ‘I’ve bought you one of Andraya’s paintings.’

  She could only look at him. That was nothing like what she wanted to hear, and she didn’t know how to respond.

  ‘I still want you to have it,’ he said.

  As the awfulness of it all sank into her, her eyes started to dilate with anger and pain. ‘And that would be to salve your conscience, would it?’ she said bitterly. ‘You think a painting’s going to make you feel better?’

  He continued to meet her gaze, letting the silence build around them until she almost couldn’t stand it. Panic was squeezing her so hard now that for one dreadful moment she thought she was going to scream or throw herself at his feet and beg. ‘Why?’ she said, her voice shredded with despair. ‘Just tell me why.’

  He took a breath to speak, then looked away.

  ‘Is there someone else?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then why?’

  ‘Because you deserve someone who loves you the way you should be loved,’ he said softly.

  The implications of that rushed at her so hard that she took a step back and sank down on the stair behind her. ‘You’re saying you don’t love me?’ she whispered. ‘That it’s all been a lie?’

  ‘No. I do love you, just not the way …’

  She waited, but he didn’t finish. ‘Not the way I love you,’ she said for him, her lips hardly able to shape the words.

  His eyes went down and he shook his head.

  Her chest felt horribly tight. Her eyes were bulging, as her heart thudded a terrible beat. She had to make this stop. She couldn’t let him go. He meant everything to her. She loved him more than her own life. Without him there would be no point to her life. ‘Elliot,’ she said, as tears began rolling from her eyes. ‘Elliot, please don’t do this.’

  He came to the foot of the stairs and reached for her hands. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, pulling her into his arms. ‘I wanted it to work, more than anything, I wanted it to work.’

  ‘But it can,’ she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. ‘We can make it.’

  He just went on holding her, listening to her cry and feeling very close to it himself. ‘I’ll get us a drink,’ he said, after a while. ‘I think we need it.’

  As he walked to the bar she remembered her plans for a romantic evening at home. That seemed such a long time ago now, something that had happened in another place, another life. She was still dazed and disbelieving, unable to accept that suddenly, out of nowhere, her whole life was falling apart. Yet she must be connecting with it or she wouldn’t be trembling like this, or so torn between anger and fear.

  He put their drinks on the coffee table, and waited for her to come and sit next to him. ‘There’ll be a lot to sort out,’ he said, taking her hand, ‘but we don’t need to discuss it tonight.’

  Denial was pressing down on her like a fist. She couldn’t think about tomorrow, couldn’t even bear to think about tonight. ‘How long …?’ she began. ‘When did you know …?’

  Understanding what she was asking, he said, ‘I’m not sure. A few weeks …’

  The words swept her into another current of shock. ‘You knew all that time you didn’t love me, and you never said anything?’ She took her hand away. Images of what had happened in that time were flashing before her, intimacies they’d shared, plans they’d made. It wasn’t making any sense. It was all wrong. She had to wake up, get out of this nightmare.

  ‘I kept thinking it would pass,’ he said, ‘that it would all come right again …’

  ‘But it hasn’t?’

  He shook his head.

  She wanted to die. She didn’t want to go any further with this, she just wanted to die. ‘Were you afraid to tell me because of Lysette?’ she said after a while. ‘Did you think I’d do the same, is that why you’ve waited this long?’

  When he didn’t answer she turned to look at him. ‘It is, isn’t it?’ she said brokenly.

  ‘I admit, it was a concern,’ he replied.

  Tears began falling on to her cheeks. ‘Well, I can understand that,’ she replied, ‘you wouldn’t want two sisters’ deaths on your conscience, would you? One is bad enough, I’m sure.’ She covered her face with her hands. ‘Now I know how she felt,’ she choked. ‘Now I know what it was like for her when you told her you didn’t want her any more. God, you’re such a bastard.’ Her head came up, her eyes were bright with pain, her lips twisted with the effort to stop crying. ‘What the hell is it with you?’ she demanded. ‘Just what gives you the right to do this to us? You’ve devastated my family once. My sister’s dead! She killed herself because of you, so how the hell do you think my parents are going to cope with this?’

  His face was taut, his eyes were heavy with the pain he felt too. ‘Believe me, I’ve thought about that,’ he told her, ‘and all I can say is I just wish to God this wasn’t happening.’

  ‘But it’s you who’s making it happen!’ she cried. ‘No-one else. Just you. We don’t have to break up. We can still get married. I love you, Elliot, and it’ll break my parents’ hearts if you do this. You know that. They can’t go through it again, not after Lysette.’

  ‘But you’re not going to kill yourself,’ he told her.

  She turned away, too bewildered and angry to get any more words out, too full of resentment to give him the reassurance he was seeking.

  A horrible silence followed. ‘Just tell me the truth,’ she said brokenly in the end. ‘Is there someone else, and you’re too afraid to tell me?’

  ‘No,’ he answered.

  Her eyes fell away and came to rest on his hand as it covered hers.

  ‘I’d give anything for this not to be happening,’ he told her softly, ‘but I can’t live a lie. I care about you too much to do that to you.’

  Care, not love. She got up and walked over to the window. The sun was almost ready to set now, the lights of Tower Bridge and the buildings on the opposite bank were starting to come on. A barge and a tour boat were passing on the river, the sound of laughter rose up from the restaurants below. It was another world, one that had somehow remained the same while hers was shattering into pieces. She thought of the next few hours, the emptiness he would leave behind if she let him go, the fear, the utter devastation of their dreams …

  Long, agonizing seconds ticked by. She heard him get up, and terrified he was about to leave, she spun round. He came towards her and pulled her into his arms.

  She clung to him, sobbing. ‘I can’t bear it,’ she gasped. ‘I love you so much, Elliot. Please … Please don’t do this.’

  He continued to hold her, stroking her hair and feeling her tears dampening his shirt. ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured. ‘I’m just so sorry.’

  ‘We belong together,’ she said, looking up at him. ‘You know we do.’

  His only response was to gaze sadly down into her face as she continued the desperate search for words to change his mind. ‘You’ll meet someone else,’ he told her softly.

  ‘No!’ she raged, pu
shing him away. ‘How dare you say that? I don’t want anyone else. I want you. For God’s sake, you don’t seem to understand what you’re doing, what this means to me. I love you, Elliot. You’re everything to me, so how can you stand there saying I’ll meet someone else? Don’t you care? Doesn’t it hurt you to think of me with another man?’

  ‘Of course it does, but if it’s someone who can give you …’

  ‘Don’t talk about what I deserve again,’ she seethed, her eyes flashing with fury. ‘I don’t want to hear it. It’s pathetic. It’s you pretending to be some kind of worthless bastard … Well it’s what you are, so you don’t have to pretend.’

  His eyes reflected her torment as he looked back at her.

  ‘Stop it!’ she cried. ‘Stop looking at me like that. If you don’t want me, then just go. Get out of here. But before you do, maybe you’d like to call my parents and explain why you’re doing this, see if you can make them understand why you’re destroying their other daughter now.’

  ‘It’s not …’

  ‘Maybe you’d like to call everyone else and tell them there’s not going to be a wedding,’ she shouted. ‘Yes, you do it. You tell them that you’ve decided you don’t love me any more, and probably never did. I don’t see why the hell I should do it.’

  ‘Laurie, listen …’

  ‘No!’ she cried, raising her arms as he tried to hold her again. ‘I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t want you near me any more.’

  He stood looking at her as she buried her face in her hands. She turned her back and let her head rest against the window. He lifted a hand to touch her, but let it drop again. He didn’t want to leave her like this, but there was nothing he could do to make it any better. In the end, he went over to the table, picked up his keys and started towards the door.

  Hearing it open she spun round. ‘Elliot,’ she sobbed.

  He stopped and turned back.

  ‘Please don’t go.’

  He took a breath.

  ‘Please. Don’t leave me yet.’

  His head went down as he took another breath. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I never wanted to hurt you like this.’