There was his release, right there, the rocks of crack on the table. Just one of those sweet babes would blast away the misery in a blinding flash. He had the pipe hidden in his clothes cupboard and now he had the stones. But the supply had to last him. He wouldn’t be seeing Shelby again, he’d have to find a new source.
His phone ringing made him start backwards like being caught in the act.
‘What’s all this about?’ William asked sharply. ‘How do you know what Shelby’s up to? What are you doing, being back in touch with him anyway – or can I guess?’
‘I hardly am,’ Hugo pleaded, instantly on the defensive. ‘Shelby suggested a drink, for old times’ sake; it was madness to see him, I know.’
‘Let’s have it then,’ William said. ‘Tell me everything you can.’
Hugo spelled it all out, including Shelby following Nattie on the school run. From the silence down the line William was listening intently.
‘We must see the house is protected before anything else,’ he said finally. I know a security firm; they’ll round up a few heavies, get them over there right away.
‘There’s not much we can do about this Twitter campaign, though. Twitter is all about anonymity. We can monitor the hash tags; I’ll set up a team. We’ll probably guess which is Shelby’s Twitter name from the content and may be able to get it closed down, others too. Twitter will act when it’s bad enough. There won’t be any recent pics of Ahmed, maybe just some from university or his year at the BBC. None saw the light at the time of the bomb and his giving evidence. The media may have wanted to do spreads on him, the hero of the hour, all that stuff, but we all held off.’
William was in charge and taking instant action. Hugo felt overwhelmed and poured out his stumbling thanks. ‘It’s about as disgusting as it gets,’ he said, feeling blistering hatred of Shelby. ‘I feel to blame. I’m very sorry.’
‘Yes, well . . . We’ll leave it at that, shall we?’ William hung up abruptly.
Were security guards really enough protection? William must feel it was a better course than upheaving the family in the middle of the night, Hugo supposed, which could possibly draw attention. His head was spinning. He looked at the drugs on the coffee table. He’d been spending a couple of hundred pounds weekly. Nattie was coming on Tuesday, assuming they got through all this. Could he hold out till then? No crack, no snorting? Better try. After Tuesday a few crack jujubes might be all the solace he could ever hope for.
Victoria had been straining to hear both sides of the conversation; she was in her nightdress, sitting on the bed, while William was talking, feeling terrified for Nattie and the children’s safety.
Nattie had phoned only that evening and when she heard of her decision, a great weight had lifted, Victoria’s whole body had tingled with the relief and intense happiness she felt.
Now she rose and paced the bedroom, close to tears. She’d seen the flashing light on her phone while reading in bed, listened to the message and immediately called out to William in panic.
She stood looking at him. He was speaking rapidly into his phone, making arrangements, giving instructions about calling 999 – himself as well – at the first sign of anything suspicious. ‘Best leave the kids to sleep in peace,’ he advised. ‘These guards are tough, they’ll do the business if need be.’
‘I couldn’t hear all of what Hugo was saying,’ Victoria said. ‘Was he suggesting that Shelby knew where Nattie and Ahmed lived? How on earth could he have found that out?’ She felt steadily more horrified as William explained, as well as absorbing the full significance of Hugo being in contact with Shelby.
‘Thank God Ahmed’s off to the airport in the morning.’ She sighed. ‘I can’t tell you how relieved I feel about Nattie’s decision. Not only for her safety, but I’ve lived with the dread of losing her and the children, being all that distance away.’
‘It was a cruelly painful choice for her,’ William said. ‘I think she’s shown great strength of will, but it was certainly timely with this hideous scam of Shelby’s.’
‘Is there nothing more to be done about him?’ Victoria asked, feeling filled with an even greater loathing. She’d seen through him when he’d come to see her, trying to spread lies about Ahmed.
‘I wish there was. Shelby’s a rat. I can tell my mates in the Met that he could be dealing again and worth keeping an eye on, but he’s sharp, he’ll know he’s made an error of judgement, bragging to Hugo, especially if his Twitter account gets closed. He’ll take good care to cover his tracks.’
Victoria sat down heavily on the bed before climbing in wearily. ‘It’s hard to imagine that Shelby can be as mad as to be back dealing again. It’s sheer lunacy. And to think of him pushing drugs, manipulating poor Hugo when he’s at his most vulnerable – surely even Shelby’s better than that.’
‘Are you kidding? You can’t seriously believe he’d give a brass fart about “poor Hugo’s” vulnerability? He’ll have been rubbing his hands in glee. Dealers thrive on insecure losers, as well as the socialite druggies with the bucks and time to fill. I hope very much that Nattie can sort Hugo out if he’s using again, but it gets harder when people are older. There’s the drain on the family funds, the worry of the children . . .’ William climbed into bed beside her and nestled up close. ‘I hope I’m wrong, and I probably shouldn’t be laying it on, distressing you like this, but Hugo was definitely on the back foot about Shelby. It’s better you’re forewarned.’
She felt the draught of a chill wind. She’d been anxious enough about Hugo’s condition at Lily’s party, though knowing Nattie’s decision, had begun to relax a little. But the fact of Shelby, there on a Sunday night . . . Why else would he be there but to push drugs? She was beginning to realise that her soft spot for Hugo had been formed through rather rose-tinted glasses.
She reached for William’s hand. ‘I’m not questioning what you say, it all sounds frighteningly possible, but Hugo’s a good father, a kind-hearted man and he loves Nattie very much. He lives for her and the children, so I really believe he could find the will.’ Her heart was thudding, she could feel it against her ribs, hear it; she thought of his having an addictive personality and said a prayer.
William held on to the hand she’d slipped into his then leapt up and reached for his phone. ‘I haven’t done the most important thing of all! I haven’t told Ahmed about all this. Not for him so much – he’s off in the morning and from what Hugo said it sounds as if Shelby has yet to set all his Twitter balls in motion, but it’ll be a very brief lull before the storm. Nattie certainly shouldn’t go to the airport with Ahmed tomorrow.’
‘I’ll call her first thing,’ Victoria interrupted, panicking. ‘I only hope she’ll listen.’
‘She’ll fight any suggestion of not going. I need to text Ahmed sharpish. Nattie will have to be hyper-alert and on her guard, and he’s the best person to impress on her that she and the children obviously can’t stay on in that house and say what she needs to watch out for. He cares, he’ll know all the precautions she should take. He’s a quick thinker, my protégé,’ William said dryly.
He was being lightly sardonic with that last remark, but he’d looked away, having some inward thought, and Victoria felt excluded. ‘What is it?’ she asked, a bit hurt.
William was sitting beside her on the bed, phone in his hand, and he turned. ‘I know it has to be, but I just feel very sad they can’t be together. Sorry, but I just do.’
She looked down. They didn’t see entirely eye to eye, where Hugo and the marriage was concerned.
William put his arm round her, which meant a lot, then texted his urgent message.
34
Parting
Ahmed reached out to switch off the alarm clock, set for six o’clock, much less sleepily than usual, and Nattie moved closer. ‘Don’t go, not yet.’ He must have been lying awake too, she sensed.
‘I wasn’t going to. I was going to wake you up in the best possible way I know. Remember, years ago, when w
e were into poetry? Once did I breathe another’s breath, and in my mistress move . . .’ He took her into his arms.
‘Once was I not mine own at all,’ Nattie finished for him, drawing him in, ‘and then I was in love.’ She clung to the feeling of his need of her; it had to last.
‘I want you to feel me, love me, no hair of distance,’ he was mumbling as they kissed. For now, she thought, naked and joined – but what about later? There would be thousands of miles between them in hours.
They lay for a while, a bundle of limbs. Nattie thought of what it was to love, the gift of it, to live in another’s emotions, take on that person’s pain, sweet ecstasy, their trauma . . . She would feel Ahmed’s highs, his moods, distance no bar, and he would know hers. He’d send unspoken support by pigeon carrier, Hurricane Matilda or whatever, thoughts racing across oceans, cadging lifts on westerly winds.
She laid a hand on his stomach, feeling the rise and fall of his quickened breath, then, lifting her face to look at him, she said with forced lightness, ‘If I’d known you were as awake as I was we could have been here earlier.’
‘Now you tell me!’
He left her to get dressed half an hour later than usual, picking up his phone and eyeing it as he went. ‘Someone texted after midnight,’ he said, ‘not California – and hardly anyone has this number. I’ll check it out upstairs.’
Nattie showered and dressed in the clothes he’d bought her in Lyme Regis that had a tale to tell, the tan leather skirt and soft stripy sweater. Not what she would normally wear for the school run on a Monday morning, but it wasn’t a normal Monday – nor a normal any other day. But for the baby she’d have felt that all the life in her was draining away as the minutes ticked by.
Lily was still fast asleep. She slept more heavily of late, less often watching for the sun to come up on her clock, her signal to invade her mother’s room. Nattie had put out her school clothes and Tubsy’s things, and laid the breakfast table the night before; she wanted no faffing about, hunting for clean socks, when it was their last hour or so of being all together in the house.
She went in to Lily. ‘Wake-up time, lovely! School today – and Dan’s going to America, remember? You must give him a big hug.’ She’d told the children the night before, coming back from her mother’s.
Lily yawned and rubbed her eyes. ‘When’s he back, Mummy? He must be here in time for Christmas as I’m making him a calendar at school. I’ve got lots to bring home on my last day.’ Nattie had almost forgotten how close to the end of term it was.
‘Better get up now, darling, while I see to Tubs; your clothes are all there, all ready, and I’ll be with you in a minute.’
As she went out of the room Ahmed was coming downstairs. He put his cheek to hers. ‘That text I had was from William. I need to talk to you about it – quite urgently.’
‘Why? What’s up?’ She stared. William must know something and it had to be bad.
‘You can’t come to the airport, Nattie darling, it’s not safe.’
‘Are you mad? I’m coming and there’s nothing that you, William, or anyone else could do or say that would stop me. If it’s not safe to drive we can get a cab – I’ll get my own if necessary.’ Then she calmed down. ‘It’s Shelby, isn’t it. What’s he done?’
‘Better not now. You’ve got to get Lily to school. I’ll call you in the car on your way home.’
Nattie’s phone was buzzing. She saw the message on the screen and looked up. ‘Text from Mum, saying it’s urgent.’
‘She’ll want to tell you the same thing,’ Ahmed muttered, ‘that it’s not safe for you to come to the airport.’
Nattie glared at him. She texted her mother. Can’t talk now, Mum, usual breakfast rush. Call after school run.
Breakfast was typical chatter and clatter. Tubsy upturned his bowl of squidged-up Weetabix, which dripped down the side of his high chair; the normality of everything that morning had an eerily surreal feel.
‘I wish you weren’t going to America, Dan,’ Lily said. ‘Do you reely have to?’
‘ ’Fraid so. Not sure when I’ll be back either, but you’re reading so well now, I’ll write you letters with American stamps on them that you’ll be able to read yourself. Will you write me one back?’
‘I’ll write lots!’ She got down from the table, dancing up to him while he put another pod in the coffee machine, jumping about in high spirits. ‘Will Mummy know where to send them?’
‘Sure thing – but she’s giving us looks, Lily love, she thinks I’m making you late. Off you go, I’ll feed Moppet for you, but I would like one last hug.’
Lily ran into his arms and he hugged her tight, smoothing her hair and pushing her head to his chest. She pulled back and looked at him.
‘You’re crying. Don’t cry! You will be back in time for Christmas? I’ve got to give you my present.’
‘It wasn’t proper crying, just I so hate saying goodbye. Very exciting, this talk of a present. And who knows? I might just have something for you.’
He stayed in the kitchen with Tubsy while Nattie hustled Lily out of the door.
Lily was talkative on the way to school. ‘I wish Dan wasn’t going, Mummy. Will we have to move out of his house? Will we be with Daddy while he’s away?’
‘I’m not sure. We’ll probably stay here – in Dan’s house – for a while. He may get back before too long, but he’ll have to be in America quite a lot of the time now.’ She gave a quick backwards glance to Lily, strapped into her seat. ‘You’ve got tea with Jade today, darling, remember. Her mummy is picking you up from school. I’ll come there for you later.’
‘I’m going to finish the calendar in school today, so he’s got to come back for Christmas. He’s my other daddy, isn’t he? I told my teacher that.’
They were at the school. Nattie parked and they got out – Lily could undo her own seatbelt now, and she started off at a run. ‘Lunch box!’ Nattie called, smiling and handing it over as Lily rushed back. ‘And a kiss before you go.’ She watched Lily in through the gates, golden hair flying, saw her link up with her friend, Noah, and go into school, chattering non-stop. Then she drove away, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
The Ford had Bluetooth and when Ahmed phoned from home as promised, his voice filled the car; it was the essence of him, male, light, strong, full of warmth. It was hard to bear; her heart was bleeding. But she listened as carefully as he pleaded that she should, and soon knew the worst.
‘What Shelby’s done is like hiring a contract killer,’ she exclaimed. He’d take his revenge that far? How low could anyone get? And how thankful she felt about William’s security guards. They owed him a lot. She had to grip the wheel hard, shaking with fear for Ahmed’s safety, and violent outrage.
‘You do see now how serious it is, Nattie? You can’t come to the airport. Shelby’s probably Tweeting his mischief as we speak. I can’t let you anywhere near me on the way or at the airport. You mustn’t come.’
She felt such furious determination that it dried her tears. ‘My turn now,’ she said forcefully. ‘You listen to me! We go to the airport together in a licensed black cab. We have our wits about us there and have the protection of the crowds. I’m with you till you’re through that departure gate, whether you like it or not. Shelby doesn’t mess with us like this, no way. If there could be any crumb of comfort in all this, it’s that he’ll have missed the bloody boat with you flying out ahead of time. I’ll still have to bring Tubsy with us to the airport, though. Mum’s probably tied up and anyway, she’d only try to stop me going. Pity Jasmine looks after that other baby on Mondays.’
‘I anticipated you’d make this sort of fuss,’ Ahmed said, sounding almost amused. ‘I called Tom to say goodbye, told him a bit of what’s happened, and he offered to help out with Tubsy. “Quality time with my nephew,” he said – though he’s worried he might put the Pampers on wrong side up.’
‘I’m sure even Tom can work out the right side,’ Nattie said, relie
ved.
‘He’ll be okay. I’ve taken out one of your little frozen pots for Tubsy’s lunch, which should help. William called and confirmed that the house is still being guarded. I spoke to your mother while he was on, and tried to reassure her, but you must phone her as soon as you’re back, darling, she’s really distressed.’
‘I’m home, now,’ Nattie said, frustrated with her mother while feeling more scared than she was letting on. ‘Just drawing up.’ She peered round, getting out of the car, heart fluttering, but saw no one loitering in the street, nothing untoward.
Tom arrived minutes after her. He came into the hall holding out his arms and she folded into them, glad of the hug. He drew back and looked at her with huge understanding in his eyes. ‘I’m not keen on Ahmed pushing off like this – it’s certainly come as a bit of a shock. I don’t know about you, Nattie, but I’m going to miss him a lot.’
‘Well, he has his good points . . .’ She smiled, but time was short: she had to call her mother and Ahmed had a plane to catch. Tom would be there when she was back from the airport; they could talk then. Talk? How would she cope and manage to speak, even to him? Perhaps it was as well he’d be there, she could cry in front of Tom.
She swiftly took him through Tubsy’s routine, including his midday nap. ‘You’ll be glad of a bit of peace by then and he’s always ready for it, goes down like a lamb.’
‘That’s a blessing! You’d better go, Nattie. A taxi was drawing up as I arrived, I expect it’s yours. And don’t you worry, Tubs and I will be fine.’
Tom hung back in the kitchen with his typical sensitivity. Nattie had flung off her coat, coming in, and Ahmed was holding it ready. He kissed the back of her neck as he helped her into it and she turned in to him, heart pressed to heart, but they had to go.
The Consequence of Love Page 33
