Much Ado About Sweet Nothing

by Alison May

  ‘Did Tony take her home?’

  ‘Back to his house.’

  I nod.

  ‘Do you know where Claudio is?’

  ‘Not answering his phone.’

  ‘Have you tried your landline?’

  I nod.

  ‘Did you know what he was going to do?’

  I shake my head.

  ‘And you really haven’t talked to him?’

  I shake my head. I don’t think she believes me. She thinks there’s something I’m not telling her, but I really don’t know what happened with him. I could guess, but a guess is all it would be; I have nothing to base it on. I’ve been trying to ring him ever since he walked out of the church and drove away. Drove away in my car, as it goes. Something tells me that it’s not really the time to moan about that.

  I take a hefty swig of beer. I keep replaying what happened in my head after Claudio said, ‘No.’

  Tony went mental. He was yelling at Claudio, and pushing and trying to hit him, and Claudio just kept saying, ‘She knows why. She knows.’

  That must have been going on for a minute or more before anyone else reacted. Then Danny pushed past me and pulled Tony back, and I tried to put myself in between Tony and Claudio.

  And then Trix grabbed my shoulder and turned me towards Henri. That was the worst bit. Henri was just standing there exactly the same as she had been before. Staring straight ahead at the altar, clutching her bouquet. Trix went over to her and touched her shoulder and said, ‘Henri? Hen? Are you OK?’

  She didn’t react at all. She didn’t even turn around, and Claudio was still saying, ‘She knows. She knows why.’

  I think that was when the vicar tried to intervene, and said something about calming down and discussing things in the vestry. And Claudio walked out. I went after him, but by the time I got into the car park he was slamming the door to my car and then he was gone.

  When I went back in Tony was trying to lead Henri away. In the car, coming here, Trix said it looked like someone trying to teach a mannequin to walk. I know exactly what she meant. Henrietta was stiff and set fast to her spot on the floor. Eventually, Tony managed to turn her around to face him, and said something about going home and having some cake. And she just sort of nodded and followed him out. She never said anything.

  So now we’re at the reception that never happened. We still have to pay for the food, which is fair enough, I suppose. The hotel woman said she’d try to contact the band. If she can get hold of them before they set off, we might not have to pay them the full amount.

  ‘I hate Claudio.’

  I know where she’s coming from, but he is my brother. I feel some attempt to defend him is in order. It’s a tough one. He’s not given me a lot to work with. ‘We don’t know the full story.’

  ‘We know enough.’

  ‘He must have had a reason.’

  ‘Nothing justifies that. Did you see Henri?’ I’ve never seen Trix this angry with anyone, well, not with anyone who wasn’t me. ‘He’s destroyed her life.’

  ‘Give her time.’ I’m trying to rationalise the situation. ‘People break up. People get over it.’

  ‘Not like this. What he did was just …’ she tails off. She doesn’t need to finish. I saw what he did.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Is there anything I can do?’

  She doesn’t answer. Or at least, she doesn’t answer before Danny comes in. John is trailing behind him.

  ‘I think we know what’s going on.’

  ‘What? How? Have you talked to Claudio?’

  Danny shakes his head, and puts his arm around John. ‘Tell them.’

  John shakes his head. ‘They won’t believe me.’

  Danny rests his head against John’s face. ‘They will if you tell them. Come on. Sit down.’

  They pull chairs up at our table. Danny is holding John’s hand. ‘Go on. It’s not your fault.’

  John takes a breath. He seems like he’s building up to actually talking, as if spontaneous speech might be too much for him. ‘Henri was having an affair.’

  Trix doesn’t say anything, but I can feel her tensing besides me. She’s breathing more heavily, and the hand that was resting on her leg has started to tap repeatedly against her thigh.

  I can’t imagine Henri cheating. I don’t see her as someone naturally suited to intrigue and deception. Everything that’s on her mind comes out of her mouth. And besides, they only got together eight weeks ago, and they’ve only spent about fifteen minutes apart since then. Unless she’s having an affair with someone at work, I don’t see how it would physically be possible.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I saw them together.’

  ‘Who? When? Where?’ Getting John to give information takes too long. I decide to ask all the pertinent questions in one burst and see if that works.

  ‘I saw her with Deano last week, the morning after the stag.’

  ‘Deano?’ It turns out John was right about one thing. I don’t believe him.

  Trix has stopped tapping. I have a sudden acute understanding of the idea of the calm before the storm. She speaks very slowly and very quietly. ‘You saw them together?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘He was coming out of her flat.’

  ‘And you just happened to be passing?’

  John grins at her. ‘Yeah. Me and Claudio.’

  ‘You were with Claudio?’

  ‘Yeah. We were just hanging out. What’s weird about that?’

  ‘Bastard.’ Trix hasn’t raised her voice. She’s still sitting with her hands on her lap. I want her to shout. It would be less scary.

  Danny stands up. ‘Come on Trix. This isn’t John’s fault.’

  ‘Yes. It is.’

  She’s crying. Without thinking about it, I put my hand out towards hers. She pushes it away, and stands up leaning across the table to Danny. ‘It is his fault. He’s lying.’

  She’s sobbing harder and harder now. ‘He’s lying.’

  Danny swallows hard. ‘Why would he lie?’

  Trix clambers round the table to stand right in front of Danny. Her whole body is shaking with the tears. ‘Because he always lies. He always lies, and you always believe him.’

  It’s one of those moments that you can’t step away from. Things are being said that won’t easily be taken back. It’s the sort of situation that I usually try to arrange my life to ensure I never find myself in the middle of.

  Now the shouting starts. Apparently she’s never liked John (true), and never given him a chance (not true). In return, Danny is being a fool not to realise John is making things up (true), and is as much to blame as Claudio for what happened today (definitely not true).

  John is still sitting down. He’s impassive. He’s tossed his grenade into the middle of all these lives, and now he looks a bit bored with the fallout.

  ‘Tell her she’s being ridiculous, Ben.’ Danny and Trix have both turned towards me.

  ‘It’s not really Danny’s fault, Trix.’ I know that from Danny’s point of view I’ve not gone far enough, but I seem to have found myself on a very narrow tightrope indeed.

  ‘You don’t believe Henri was screwing Deano though, do you?’

  ‘Well, no.’

  Danny is focused on me now. ‘So you agree that John’s lying? And Claudio’s lying too?’

  ‘Maybe they could be mistaken.’

  Trix snorts and turns away. I continue. ‘Maybe it wasn’t what it looked like?’

  Trix isn’t going to accept that either. ‘Or maybe he’s just making it up?’

  ‘And why would he do that?’

  And straight away I know why. I’ve known why since the moment I realised John was involved. I feel like I’ve been here before. I’m back in that kitchen with a bruise across my face and John laughing at me, because he doesn’t think I’ll say a word. I take a very deep breath, which isn’t as effective at calm
ing me down as I hoped it would be. This time I am going to say something.

  ‘He did it because Claudio turned him down.’

  There’s a silence after I’ve said it. No one reacts. For a second I wonder if I did actually say it out loud, or just inside my head. But then I see their faces. John looks interested again. He’s leaning towards me, waiting for the next move. Danny’s nostrils are flaring in and out as he breathes. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  I look straight at him, hoping that somehow the whole looking in his eye man-to-man thing will make him believe me. ‘It’s true. He made a pass at Claudio on the stag. Claudio brushed him off.’

  Danny looks at John, who shrugs. ‘He’s lying.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  John stands up. ‘Come on, babe.’

  He starts to walk away. Danny doesn’t follow him. He’s still looking at me. ‘I thought we were friends.’

  I stand up. ‘We are.’

  John is standing over in the doorway. He’s enjoying this. ‘Come on. We’ve told them what I saw. We’re wasting our time.’

  Danny nods and follows him out of the bar. Trix just looks at me and walks away. I’m wondering why she’s cross with me when she reappears with two more bottles of beer.

  ‘Is what you said about John coming on to Claudio true?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And he’d do all this just because of one brush-off?’

  I’m remembering standing in Danny’s kitchen with a bloody lip too many years ago. I shrug. ‘Guess he doesn’t handle rejection that well.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say anything at the time?’

  It takes me a moment to realise that she can’t read my mind, and is still talking about Claudio and John. ‘Wanted to be wrong I guess.’

  ‘Benedict Messina, admitting that he can be wrong? I should be recording this moment.’

  ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  I can’t resist it. ‘Trix Allen apologising? Now I should be recording.’

  We fall silent and sip our beer for a minute. Trix breaks the silence. ‘I can’t stop thinking about Henri.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘She looked broken.’

  ‘I know.’ When Tony led her away she looked as though she didn’t even know what was happening. ‘I ought to try to call Claudio I suppose.’

  ‘Why bother?’

  ‘He’s my brother.’

  ‘She’s my best friend.’

  ‘But that stuff John must have told him. He must be gutted.’

  Trix shakes her head. ‘This is his fault. People like John will always be like that. Claudio didn’t have to believe him. Would you have?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘If it was someone you really loved, would you have believed him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘See.’

  ‘That’s different.’

  ‘How?’

  How is it different? Well, because I’ve only ever really loved one person, and she is full of massive great flaws, but always truthful. I don’t say anything, so Trix continues.

  ‘You asked if you could do something for me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Before Danny came in, you asked if you could do something for me.’

  I take her hand. I want to do something. ‘What do you need?’

  ‘Kill Claudio.’

  Trix

  Ben is looking quite concerned about me now. I run what I’ve just said back over in my head. I can still taste the words in my mouth. ‘Kill Claudio.’

  And, honestly, just for a second, I really mean it. He broke my friend, and I never want to see him again. When he said No, in the church, Henri didn’t cry and shout; she seemed to shut down. I’ve seen people who were upset or angry before, but she just stopped. It was horrible.

  I take a swig of my beer. ‘I mean it. The thought of him being out there having a nice life, meeting other women, sleeping with other women. It gives me rage.’

  Ben is looking at me. ‘He’s my brother.’

  ‘So you won’t kill him?’

  He’s sort of half laughing, like he’s hoping it’s a joke but isn’t totally convinced. ‘No. I won’t murder my brother for you.’

  And when he puts it like that it does sound a tiny bit insane. I do understand that actually killing Claudio is out of the question, but I do still want to hurt him, even if it’s just a little bit. I want to see it. I turn back towards Ben, and try to focus on what’s in front of me, rather than what’s going on inside my head.

  ‘So what will you do for me?’

  ‘I’ll buy you another beer.’

  ‘Ok.’ He stands up to go to the bar and I stop him. ‘Beer not helping. Something stronger.’

  He nods. I need a real drink. If I can’t annihilate Claudio, maybe I can annihilate my memory of Henri’s face instead.

  Ben comes back with two more beers and two tequilas.

  ‘Tequila?’

  He nods.

  ‘I am not drinking tequila with you.’

  ‘You said you wanted something stronger.’

  ‘I remember the last time I drank tequila with you.’

  He grins. ‘And that didn’t end so badly, did it?’

  I didn’t think he’d remember, but I push the glass away anyway. ‘I am not drinking tequila with you.’

  He pushes the glass back towards me. ‘Go on. For old time’s sake.’

  And so we down the tequila and drink the beer, and then I go back to the bar, and we start all over again. Every slug of tequila makes me want to hurl, but feeling sick gives me something to focus on that isn’t feeling sad or angry or vengeful, so we keep going. We talk in fits and starts, but there’s no pretending now that we’re not drinking with the express purpose of getting mind clearingly, stomach emptyingly drunk.

  ‘How are you getting home?’

  Mr Benedict does ask a good question. We’ve just downed our third tequilas, and we’re starting on our sixth beers. We made one of the wedding drivers bring us here, and now I’ve spent all my cash on drinks. I suspect Ben has done the same.

  ‘Have you got any money left?’

  He pulls out a tenner and a handful of change. That won’t be enough to get us both home. ‘I’ve got plastic. We’ll have to get the cab to stop at a cashpoint.’

  ‘I don’t want to go home yet.’ I pull the tenner out of his hand and head to the bar.

  We eke two more rounds, sans tequila, out of his £13.21. I announce that I want to burn out Claudio’s eyeballs in retribution. I’m sort of taken with the idea of him being humbled like Mr Rochester at the end of Jane Eyre, only without the bit where he wins the girl back and it’s all ok really.

  Ben explains how this might be possible, and explains how Archimedes used mirrors to focus the sun’s light to set fire to warships. I say that I just want to stick a hot poker in Claudio’s eyes. Ben says that lacks finesse.

  Ben is about to go and find out whether the bar takes credit cards, when a woman with a name badge comes over to us.

  ‘Mr Messina?’

  Ben nods, and she hands him a room key. ‘The key to the bridal suite, sir. I’ve just come on duty and I noticed you hadn’t collected it yet.’

  Ben opens his mouth, but the woman keeps talking. ‘I’d hate to think of you being locked out. It’s such a lovely suite, four-poster bed, double-ended spa bath, complimentary champagne.’

  When she says complimentary champagne Ben closes his mouth abruptly. The woman smiles. ‘Enjoy the rest of your stay.’

  I turn to him. ‘What just happened?’

  He’s looking at the room key. ‘She must think I’m Claudio.’

  ‘But she must have noticed there’s no wedding going on.’

  ‘Apparently not.’ He looks at me. ‘It’s just a mistake though. I’ll go and explain, and ask them to call us a cab.’

  I really do not want to go home. I know Henri’s at her dad’s, but if I go home I’ll be picturing her downstairs all alon
e. I can’t quite face it just yet. I put my hand on his arm. ‘She did say complimentary champagne.’

  He looks at me and I can hear the wariness in his voice. ‘She also said four poster bed and double-ended spa bath.’

  I lean forward and take the key out of his hand, and start, with some wobbling, to walk towards the lift. I don’t look back to see if he’s following, because I want to look cool and confident and like I don’t need to look back.

  He catches up with me just as I’m getting into the lift. As soon as the doors close, I kiss him. I know that if I wait, I’ll lose my nerve. When he kisses me back I could cry with relief.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Henrietta

  There are one hundred and forty-three flowers across the row on the wallpaper in this room. I think there should be one hundred and forty-four but there’s one bit where the wallpaper doesn’t line up properly, and at the top one sheet is slightly stuck over the top of the other. I’m wondering about standing on a chair and seeing if I can peel the top bit back to see the hidden flower.

  I don’t think I shall, just at the moment. At the moment I’m concentrating on lying as still as I can. My dad looked in a few minutes ago. I closed my eyes so he’d think I was asleep. I think it might worry him if he saw I was lying awake.

  It’s OK really though. I’m just not sleepy. My phone is lying on the chest next to the bed. I think Claudio’s probably been trying to phone me. I shan’t look yet though. I’m just going to keep still. He might not have phoned. He might have e-mailed. He used to e-mail me every day when he was in Italy.

  Yes. Probably he’s e-mailed. I can’t check that though. My phone’s antique and Dad doesn’t have the internet. My dad’s house hasn’t really changed since I was a little girl, apart from this room. I was staying here before I moved into Trix’s flat, but it was too far away from work really. When I moved out he redecorated my room. The first time I came back here I cried. That’s the only thing that has changed though. He doesn’t have the internet. He doesn’t have Sky. He doesn’t have a DVD player. He’s never really watched much telly. Even when Mum was alive he preferred the radio. In the evenings she’d watch her soaps, Emmerdale and Coronation Street, but my dad always preferred Radio 3 and 4.