Twilight Song

by Cressida McLaughlin

  ‘How long have you known him?’

  ‘Nearly ten years now. Since I plucked his novel off the slush pile and made the phone call that changed his life. In many ways he’s been a dream client, and then last year it all exploded.’

  ‘Was it just … Eddie and what he did, or was there something more to it?’ She chewed her lip, wondering if he would tell her.

  Leo folded his arms over his chest, his brow furrowed in a frown that was weirdly familiar. ‘His dad has always put a lot of pressure on him,’ Leo admitted. ‘Novelist wasn’t ever a solid enough occupation – Charles was an investment banker, before he retired. He never approved of Jack’s friendship with Eddie either. They rather went off the rails together, though Jack had the strength of character to bring himself back from the brink, as it were. But when Eddie span that fantasy story to the newspaper, not only was Jack suddenly made out to be controlling and morally ambiguous, but it was more proof that his dad was right, and that compounded the issue.’

  ‘And at the awards ceremony …?’ Abby glanced behind her, but there was no sign of Jack.

  Leo closed his eyes. ‘Eddie wound him up. It was bad enough already; the plagiarism story had come out, there was a mountain of speculation and Jack was facing questions and accusations. Then Eddie appeared, smug and perfectly at ease, and brought up Jack’s deceased relationship with Natasha, referring to the most flagrantly ridiculous part of his whole kiss-and-tell story—’

  ‘That he’d slept with the journalist he paid off,’ Abby filled in.

  ‘Exactly.’ Leo pointed at her as if she’d won a prize. ‘And Jack lost it. Only once, very briefly, but with enough force that the damage to his reputation was worse than the state of Eddie’s nose.’

  Abby sighed. ‘Poor Jack. I wish he’d tell people the truth.’

  ‘And yet you don’t know what it is, young Abby.’

  ‘I know what it isn’t. I’ve spent enough time with Jack, and I … I trust him.’

  ‘Good. I can see why my—’ he started, then coughed and rubbed at a nonexistent spot on his shoe. ‘I can see why Jack’s pleased he moved to Peacock Cottage, for all sorts of reasons.’

  ‘You found it for him, didn’t you?’

  ‘I did. I could see that he needed a fresh perspective, and I knew of Meadowsweet, the old estate. I thought it might be a good place for him and I was right. He has more reason now to prove himself than ever before, and not just to his editors and readers. Peacock Cottage has been a real gem.’

  Abby sipped her champagne. She liked Leo and felt reassured on Jack’s behalf, knowing he had this man firmly on his side, steering him in the right direction.

  ‘Do you think he’s OK?’ she asked. ‘Being left with Bob Stevens?’

  ‘As long as Bob doesn’t try and unite him and Eddie like long lost brothers, all should be fine.’

  Just then, the sound of a loud gong reverberated throughout the building.

  ‘Oh goody,’ Leo said. ‘It’s speech time.’

  Abby tried to take in everything Bob Stevens was saying, but she found her mind – and her eyes – wandering, looking for Jack, looking for Eddie Markham or any of the people she had been introduced to. And then it was over, there was resounding applause and the talking started up again. Abby’s stomach was rumbling – the canapés had stopped circulating a while ago – and her mouth was dry. Her feet were throbbing, and the room was almost unbearably hot.

  She smiled at Leo, feeling bad that she was a spare wheel, holding him up from speaking to whomever he needed to.

  ‘I’m just nipping to the ladies’ room,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll be here,’ he replied.

  Abby took her time in the luxurious cloakroom, washing her hands and dabbing cold water behind her ears and on her wrists. She topped up her lipstick and, giving her reflection a final quick glance, returned to the fray.

  At first, she couldn’t see Leo. She looked around blindly, and then felt a hand clutch her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

  ‘Wait here,’ he said quietly, all the warmth gone from his voice. ‘I’m going to give this two minutes, and then I’m stepping in.’ Abby frowned, then turned to find that the crowd had parted around two people, a buzz of anticipation filling the room.

  ‘Shit,’ she whispered, as she recognized the blond, smug-looking man who was aiming a ridiculous grin at Jack, his arms folded over his chest.

  ‘Westcoat,’ Eddie Markham said. ‘How’re things with you? Bit of a tough year, as I understand it?’

  Abby swallowed. She could hear Leo’s even breathing.

  Jack’s jaw was set, his shoulders stiff with tension. ‘Eddie.’ His voice was flat.

  ‘What, not even a pat on the back for your old friend? Don’t you think it’s time to put our differences aside? One word of apology from you, that’s all it’ll take.’

  Abby saw Jack’s shoulders rise in a sigh. ‘I’ve apologized. I’ve said all I need to, so now, if you’ll excuse me.’ He turned away, but Eddie slapped a hand against his chest, stopping him. A ripple of concern went through the crowd.

  ‘Come on now, old boy,’ Eddie said, laughing gently. ‘We can put this behind us, can’t we? Doesn’t our history mean more to you?’

  Jack turned to face him. ‘Our history is one of the reasons I should have ended the friendship long before now. So please, let me go.’

  Eddie dropped his hand, his face tight with anger as Jack walked away. ‘And does your new piece of skirt know everything?’ he called, glancing in Abby’s direction. Their eyes met for a moment, and she was shocked by how much hatred there was in them. ‘I have to say, Westcoat, you’ve outdone yourself this time. She’s gorgeous. Pliable enough for you too, I suppose? You were always the charming one, and it seems no number of fuck-ups can stop you attracting them like flies.’

  Jack faltered, closing his eyes. Abby felt Leo shift beside her, ready to step in, and it was as if the entire room was holding its breath. Then Jack whispered something to himself and started walking again, away from Eddie, towards her and Leo, his expression blank. Behind him, Bob Stevens grabbed Eddie by the arm and pulled him away.

  Jack stopped in front of Abby and took her hand. ‘I am so, so sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry he said those things, and that you had to hear them.’

  She shook her head minutely, aware that the crowd had focused their attention on them now that Eddie was out of sight.

  ‘Cool. As. A. Cucumber,’ Leo said. ‘If anyone was unsure beforehand about who is the better man in all this, then they’re no longer under any illusions. I’m proud of you, and to prove it, I’m going to find us more champagne.’

  Jack gave his agent a weary smile, then turned his attention back to Abby. ‘Are you OK?’

  She squeezed his hand. ‘I am. Are you?’

  He nodded. ‘I hadn’t expected to escape the evening without seeing him, but I’m sorry he brought you into it. He had no right,’ he added, his voice hard. ‘But I should have known he would do this. He has a way of cutting where it hurts the most. Please don’t pay any attention to what he said. Don’t let him get under your skin.’

  ‘There’s no room for anyone else under my skin,’ she whispered, and they held each other’s gaze until Leo returned with full glasses and insisted on toasting Jack as if his restraint amounted to winning the Booker prize.

  ‘One more circuit of the room?’ Leo asked, draining his drink. ‘I’m sure everyone’s eager to speak to you after that encounter, and then you will have definitely earned your escape.’

  Abby watched as Jack physically pulled himself up straight, preparing to put on a performance. ‘Sure this is OK?’ he asked her. ‘We can leave now if you’d rather.’

  ‘I’m happy to stay as long as you need to.’

  He lifted his arm and smiled at her, and Abby gratefully slipped her hand through it. Now, more than ever, she wanted to show the world that she was on his side.

  Chapter Six

  The male pea
fowl, called a peacock, is one of the most stunning birds you can see in this country, but they originally come from India. They’re royal blue and display their incredible tails – greeny-gold feathers with gold, green and blue eyespots – when they want to attract a mate. A peahen will pick the male peacock they like the best by looking at the length of their feathers, and the colour and quality of the eyespots on their tails.

  — Note from Abby’s notebook.

  Abby sank into the plush leather of the Mercedes and slipped her sandals off, groaning in relief. Jack slid in after her, undoing the top button of his shirt, draping his jacket and bow tie over the seat between them. He gave her a sideways look.

  ‘Painful shoes?’

  ‘It’s so good to get them off,’ she said, leaning her head against the headrest.

  ‘Here.’ He held out his hands.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your feet.’

  ‘What?’ Abby stared at him.

  ‘Swing round and put your feet up here, and I’ll massage them.’

  ‘Jack,’ she laughed. ‘You don’t want to touch my feet.’

  ‘I honestly give a great foot massage,’ he said. ‘Come on, Abby, you wouldn’t have sore feet if it wasn’t for me, and I can’t be responsible for you not making it back to the reserve on time because you can barely walk. Penelope would never forgive me.’

  ‘He’s right about that, she wouldn’t,’ Leo piped up from the passenger seat. ‘And I can vouch for his foot massages.’

  ‘Piss off, Leo,’ Jack laughed. He waggled his hands, and she swivelled round, lifting her feet onto the seat between them. Jack took hold of them and put them on his lap, and then began slowly pressing his thumbs into the balls of her feet.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she murmured. ‘That is so good.’

  Jack smiled at her then focused on what he was doing, and Abby closed her eyes and let him soothe the aches and pains away.

  ‘I’m not going to keep going on about it,’ Leo said, ‘but it was entirely serendipitous that Eddie accosted you. You’ve proved to everyone that last year was a one-off, that you’re putting it behind you. You came out of it ten feet tall, Jack. I’m a very proud agent – and friend.’

  Jack’s hands stilled for a moment, and then he continued pummelling Abby’s feet. She opened her eyes and watched him closely, the way the muscles worked in his jaw, his eyes cast downwards. She couldn’t help but agree with Leo, even though it was clear the exchange had affected Jack.

  ‘Anyway,’ Leo pressed on. ‘I think we can say with complete confidence that tonight was a success. Bob Stevens is still keen for you to be an ambassador, you’re seen uppermost in people’s minds as a professional author rather than an amateur boxer, and with Abby at your side you have positively wowed the crowds. Job well done, Jack.’

  ‘We survived it, at least,’ Jack said. ‘Thanks, in no small part, to both of you.’ He nodded at Leo, gave Abby a brief smile, and then moved onto her arches, his touch firm but tender.

  Leo waved away Jack’s gratitude. ‘Anyone for a McDonald’s pit stop? Gene’s going to drop me off at home, then take you back to Meadowgreen.’

  ‘Great,’ Jack said. ‘I could kill for a Big Mac.’

  At some point after they had devoured their burgers and licked the salt from the fries off their fingers, Abby fell asleep. Without Leo’s endless chatter, and with the repetitive rhythm of wheels over tarmac, she found her eyelids drooping. They hadn’t left the hotel until after eleven, and by the time they’d driven out of London and made their food stop, it was close to midnight.

  She awoke with a jolt, her eyes struggling to find anything to latch onto in the dark. Then she remembered, and assessed her position. Her head was on Jack’s knee, her seatbelt stretched to its limit. His jacket was over her bare shoulders and his hand was resting gently on her hip. She sat up slowly, and Jack’s arm slid off her. She looked at him in the moonlight slipping through the window, and the muted lights from the dashboard up front.

  He was asleep, his forehead resting against the glass, his eyelashes shadowing his cheeks. He looked peaceful, and Abby indulged in being able to watch him unseen; the definition of his collarbone through his open shirt, the dimple in his cheek barely visible when he wasn’t smiling, the beginnings of stubble along his jawline. She realized she was holding her breath, not wanting to disturb him, wanting to memorize everything about him.

  ‘Abby,’ Gene asked quietly, ‘Do you want me to take you to yours first, then I can drop Jack off?’

  ‘Where are you staying? Are you in the spare room of Peacock Cottage?’

  ‘No, I’m bunking with a mate in Ipswich tonight, so I’ve not too far to go after this.’

  ‘OK then,’ she said, wondering what to do now it was down to her. ‘First, we should go to …’

  ‘Peacock Cottage,’ Jack said gruffly. He gave her a sleepy smile, and Abby’s whole body tingled in response. ‘The least I can do is offer you a nightcap, toast an evening that wouldn’t have been nearly so positive without you there.’

  ‘Then you’ll walk me home afterwards?’

  He held her gaze. The painful silver sandals, his long fingers massaging her feet were surely not far from his mind, as they weren’t from hers.

  ‘Of course,’ he said.

  ‘OK,’ Abby replied softly. ‘Peacock Cottage it is.’

  They said goodbye to Gene, then she let Jack help her down from the car, and tiptoed up the front path behind him, her shoes in her hands. Moths buffeted the outside light and the blue paintwork of the door. It was still warm, despite the late hour – the promise that summer was almost upon them. The sky was clear, the moon shining, stars twinkling above the tree canopy like a painted stage backdrop behind a forest silhouette. She waited while Jack unlocked the door, his jacket slung over his shoulder, and then followed him into the hallway.

  ‘Make yourself at home,’ he said.

  Abby left her shoes in the hall and sank onto the sofa in the living room, hugging Shalimar against her. The cuddly hippo smelt of clean linen and the faintest trace of Jack’s aftershave. She closed her eyes, but she no longer felt tired. The way Jack had answered Gene’s question, not even consulting her, his voice rough with sleep, made her heart race. She heard his footsteps, the jingle of ice, and he walked into the room, placed two glasses on the table and sat next to her. He slipped off his polished black shoes and stretched his arms up to the ceiling, his shirt pulling out of the waistband of his trousers.

  ‘It’s whisky,’ he said. ‘I hope that’s OK?’

  He handed her a glass and, when she nodded, clinked his against it.

  ‘Thank you for coming with me tonight. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.’

  ‘Of course you could,’ she said, feeling the whisky burn down her throat. ‘You didn’t let Eddie get to you. You were so calm, Jack. And you had Leo, Gene – you were at home there, confident and charming and … desired.’ It was the wrong word, but it was too late to change it. And now it was out there, it gave her a rush of her own confidence, of certainty.

  ‘Looks can be deceiving,’ he said softly.

  ‘Not to me. Not about you. I know you, Jack.’

  ‘Not everything.’

  ‘I don’t need to know everything. But Leo said – why won’t you tell anyone what really happened with you and Eddie?’

  Jack sipped his whisky, holding the liquid in his mouth before swallowing. ‘Eddie begged me to help him cover up the plagiarism,’ he said eventually. ‘I told him it was best to come clean, but he was desperate to try and save his career – to not ruin it before it had even begun, though I wanted to argue that he’d already done that by stealing someone else’s work. But he needed my help, and he was – had been – my closest friend. I gave it to him.’ He reached out and ran his hand along Shalimar’s soft fur.

  Abby nodded. It was the opposite of what Eddie had said in the interview. She believed Jack entirely. Not just because she wanted to, but because i
t was a truth hard-won, dragged out of him, not like the lies that so easily tripped off Eddie’s tongue.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘For telling me.’

  ‘That’s not all of it.’

  ‘It’s enough. For now.’

  He was staring towards the window, the thin curtains shutting out the night, his face strained in profile. He had been honest with her and, even though he hadn’t asked for anything, she needed to reciprocate.

  She swallowed. ‘I’ve been holding back, from you. Worrying that your past, what you did to Eddie last year meant that I was stuck on a loop, choosing the wrong people to care about.’ Jack turned towards her, his whole body tensing, but she kept her gaze trained on the hippo. ‘The reason I’ve been hesitant with you is because I told myself that you were no good for me.’

  ‘Abby, I—’

  ‘And what my Dad did, towards the end … he hurt me as much as he hurt Mum; it wasn’t just when I got in the way. Tessa keeps reminding me that I always end up repeating it, finding someone who I can mirror Mum and Dad’s relationship with, that I’m drawn towards people who will hurt me.’

  Jack inhaled, about to reply, but Abby kept going.

  ‘But I know you’re not like that. I knew from the beginning, really, but things – Tessa’s warnings, Meadowsweet and Penelope – I couldn’t let myself believe it or give in to the way I felt. But it’s gone on too long. This time, I know I’m not making the wrong decision.’ She took another sip of whisky. ‘I can’t stay hidden away anymore, I have to trust myself. I have to take a chance.’

  His fingers were perfectly still, resting on Shalimar’s coat.

  ‘On what?’ he asked, his voice low.

  She put her glass on the coffee table, leaned forward and kissed him. It brought back flashes of their first kiss in this room, the feel of his skin, the thrill it gave her. She knew they wouldn’t be interrupted this time, and in seconds she had obliterated that first kiss, had made hers more definite, its purpose clear. And the touch of his lips against hers, unmoving for a second and then responding, kissing her back so that they found their own rhythm, was everything, rewarding her months of wanting and waiting, shattering any last doubts she might have had.