He went into the kitchen, ruffled Tubsy’s curly blond hair and kissed him. He had a last look round, storing snatches of memory, then went into the sitting room and looked out of the back window at the garden and Moppet’s hutch. Then he walked purposefully out of the room, picked up his bags and called goodbye to Tom.
Tom came into the hall. ‘Safe flight, you old sod, and mind you come back sooner than the last time,’ he said, his voice gruff with emotion, before he opened the front door for them and they hurried out to the waiting taxi.
It was a gloomy, overcast day, reassuringly dark in the cab; they needed anonymity. Ahmed tucked Nattie’s arm under his and held her hand. ‘Well, we made it into the cab in one piece,’ he smiled. ‘One down, but a few more hurdles at the airport. When we get there I want you to make for a different entrance, Nattie. We can link up again by phone. You must think risk and take constant precautions the whole time now. Promise me you will? It’s essential.’
‘Ease up on me a bit, can’t you? I’ve just had a basinful from Mum, as you predicted, and I had a job to stop her from coming round tonight, but I think she realised how badly I’d need to be alone. You haven’t told me how William discovered about Shelby. Had he been on to the press? Don’t spare me the details.’
‘It was from Hugo – he got in touch with William late last night. He’d just had Shelby round who’d bragged about his plans – obviously hadn’t bargained on Hugo’s decent reaction. But from the gossip columns, the people Shelby’s in with, he’s back showering snow around London like confetti, and I hate to say it, Nattie, but it looks like Hugo’s back using the stuff.’
‘So that’s how Shelby knew which school to follow me home from.’ Her heart sank to her boots; she felt sickened to think of Shelby manipulating poor Hugo for his own evil ends. And confirmation of Hugo using again was a disaster. She’d seen the signs, though, known the awful inevitability. Was it crack as well as coke? Hugo needed the lift and sense of euphoria coke gave, not for the kicks, simply to help him function at all. He must be hanging on to his job by a thread. But crack . . .
‘Twitter’s fast,’ she said, pulling her mind back, and realising, as she said it, what a huge understatement that was. There could be spotters at the airport already.
She shivered and pressed closer to Ahmed. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thank God you were flying out this very day. It’s spiking Shelby’s guns at the least. He gets to you over my dead body.’
‘Don’t say that! But I’m not the problem, Nattie darling – it’s you. You must take the risk you’re under more seriously. There could be people out there who’ll try to get to me through you. Shelby knows where we’ve been living, that’s the real fear. I haven’t had time to see what Tweets are out there, whether he’s got going yet, but he will.’ Nattie was surprised, she’d been gone a good hour on the school run. ‘Nowhere’s really safe for you now – except California.’ Ahmed gave a wry smile and kissed her lips. ‘Jake’s house least of all. You can’t stay there a day longer. I’ll talk you through my plans for that, but we’re almost there. Tell you over coffee.’
‘But William’s storming into action, you say, putting a team onto monitoring and countering Tweets, even getting Twitter addresses removed; surely the whole thing will fizzle out like a failed firework?’ They were in the underpass tunnel at Heathrow, soon to go in through different doors, wheel his cases to be checked in, have a last few moments over coffee before the final goodbye. People everywhere, time running out, and there was so much more to say. She wanted to be having a lifetime’s conversation, talking about love and connection, not Shelby and Islamist terrorists.
‘You’re being a bit extreme,’ she said.
‘I’m not. I’m telling it like it is. William’s a different generation; he knows a lot, has power, all the power of the press at his elbow, but even he doesn’t know the full reach of social media. It’s an unstoppable, unkillable beast. The terrorists are at war with us. And however long ago it was I thwarted a plot almost on the scale of nine-eleven, they want my head.’
Ahmed was travelling Business Class and was spared a long queue. Nattie had lagged well behind and as he turned to leave the check-in desk he phoned her. ‘Keep me in sight and I’ll find somewhere we can sit and talk.’
He feared for them both, but he was the one whose life was in danger. The risk to her, she still believed, was minimal.
He made for a small café and got the last available table. There was noise, a bulky family at the next table whose piled-up kit was in everyone’s way, whose children kept running off, the father stumbling over the luggage, going after them. There were open packets of crisps, cheese-and-onion-flavoured; the smell was bringing bile into Nattie’s throat, but it was containable.
Ahmed talked in hushed undertones. ‘You can’t stay in Jake’s house, nor your mother’s basement. She and William live too close, it’s too great a risk. I did some fast phoning while you were taking Lily to school. I talked to Jake in Australia. It was evening, a good time, and I told him all. He’s coming over to sort out a new rental. He’s got keys, you can leave all yours in the hall. Jake says you needn’t rehang those curtains of Sylvia’s we took down so don’t fret about that! And good news, Sylvia’s pregnant, so he’s not worried about our fiddles in Lily’s room.’ He lifted Nattie’s hand to his lips, looking at her so movingly over it that she burst into tears.
‘Sorry,’ she said, recovering, ‘I know you’ve got more to say. There’s no one I can descend on, though, with two children and a guinea pig. I’ll have to go to Mum’s for a while.’
‘No, you won’t. First on cars. The Ford is yours, in your name, not easily traced to me. Shelby knows it, but I’d like to think he’s done his damnedest now. He’ll be watching his own back too. Hugo saw him off apparently, and Shelby’s on weak ground. But you can’t stay in Jake’s house a day longer, so I’ve rented you a furnished flat in Notting Hill. It’s paid up, all sorted, you won’t have water and electricity bills, they’ll come to me. It looks good online, a maisonette with enough garden for Moppet. Go and see it this afternoon with Tubsy. You must move tomorrow, darling, that’s most important of all.’ Ahmed had hold of her hand so tightly, she felt he was trying to press that home even harder.
‘Don’t go to work tomorrow, have a sickie,’ he said. ‘You’ll have Jasmine there to help and be with Tubs while you do the move – I’ve given her the gist of this on the phone – and I’ve left you a long note with all the details. The flat keys are with the estate agents who’ll show you round and explain everything. Call me if you need to; always call. I’m going to look after you, Nattie. I have money, it’s not a problem – so don’t start protesting – and it’s somewhere I can come to when the baby is born. I’m going to buy the flat as an investment; it’s for sale.’
‘What about Hugo?’ Nattie asked in a small voice, her head swimming. ‘What if he wants me back?’
‘I’ll understand. I will have bought the flat soon enough; I may do short-term lets if you’re with Hugo, make the flat earn its keep – and hope to use it myself, once or twice of course.’ He looked at his watch then back up into her face. ‘I’m going to marry you, Nattie darling, however long it takes – though l hope that won’t be as long as it took Captain Corelli. We’ll walk on beaches holding hands and puff ourselves up with pride about our genius child. Who knows, maybe we’ll have had another by then.’ He put his hand to her stomach and kissed her eyes.
‘It will be hard for you with Hugo. He could lose his job and he’ll be full of blame for ever having let Shelby cross the threshold. But I very much doubt now, with your decision,’ Ahmed said, ‘that he’ll be checking out other sources; he’ll try to stay clean. And if I’m really honest, and saying it makes me feel like I’m signing my own death warrant, you’d probably be safest back in Queen’s Park. A better man than I would have said that earlier.’
‘Don’t,’ she said, ‘just bloody don’t.’ She pulled free and bur
ied her head in her hands.
Ahmed lifted them away, held on to them and fastened his eyes on hers. She felt her blood drain away like sand in a timer; the minutes were ticking by. ‘I feel a bit faint,’ she said. ‘It’s only partly the baby, more just an excuse, but don’t let go of me, not quite yet.’ She found some control and blinked away a tear, heart swelling to bursting.
‘How am I going to bear to watch Shorelands?’ she said. ‘And it’s spoilt for me anyway now. I know the plot, I’ll know what’s coming . . .’
‘I’ll put in a twist or two that you’ll work out are just for you. They’ll have special meaning.’
Nattie kept on holding his hands; she couldn’t prepare for the emptiness, couldn’t let go.
Ahmed held her eyes. ‘It’s getting late – I’d better go. I’ll walk ahead of you.’
There was no distance between them when they linked up at Departures. They didn’t care who saw them as they clung, wet-eyed, each storing the feel, the shape and warmth and heartbeat of the other. ‘You’ll keep me close out there?’ she whispered, before he separated. He wiped his eyes, and hers, picked up his bag and walked up to the barrier. She watched him through, not expecting him to turn, but he did, with a soft, sad smile, then was lost to the other side.
35
Emptiness
Nattie walked woodenly away from the departure gates, her senses numbed, her head empty of thought. She was dry-eyed waiting in the queue for a taxi and for most of the way back into London, but reaching the Hammersmith flyover, she broke down completely, sobbing out loud in the back of the taxi, her shoulders shaking violently. She was convulsed, overcome with desolation. Tears blurring her vision, streaming down her cheeks. When the taxi drew up outside Jake’s house, the driver got out looking concerned, and asked if she’d be okay. He even insisted on walking her right to her door. She didn’t protest.
She went in, worrying about Tom seeing her ravaged face, but he wasn’t about, probably getting Thomas up from his rest, and it gave her a few minutes to recover. She began to feel calmer then, better able to face him and think more clearly.
Was she really going to move the very next day? It seemed impossible to imagine, the way she felt, limp from emotional exhaustion and too little sleep, but from the moment she turned her key and set foot inside she’d known that even without the dangers, her fears for the children, Jake’s house without Ahmed in it was the very last place she wanted to be.
The house was so still and quiet. She called upstairs. ‘Hi, Tom! All okay?’
‘I’m just on the phone – in the upstairs study. Be there in a tick. Tubs is still sleeping, but stirring, I think.’
‘No rush, finish your call. I’ll get him up.’
Nattie shed her coat and went up, taking the stairs very slowly; her legs felt heavy, as in a nightmarish dream where she had somewhere to get to, but thwarted in her every attempt to reach it.
She leaned over the cot. Tubsy, unsure whether he wanted to wake up, undecided whether to smile or cry, gave a token wail, but he soon adjusted. Nattie got him up and he said, excitedly, trotting out of the door, ‘Dan, Dan do train?’ She chased after him and caught up with him at the stairs.
‘Dan’s gone to America, he’s on a woosh, woosh plane, and Uncle Tom is about to go back to his painting. It’s just you and me, Tubsy. We’ll go out in the blue car this afternoon, to see a new house.’
The kitchen was an impenetrable jungle. Tom and Tubsy seemed to have upturned toys she never knew they owned. The floor was a spaghetti junction of half-linked rail-track; it was a farmyard, it was garaging ambulances, fire engines, JCB diggers and as many cars as you’d see on the M25. Tubsy was soon happily distracted.
‘Hi, Sis,’ Tom called, zooming downstairs and doing a slight double take, seeing Nattie’s swollen, piggy eyes. ‘I’ve been on two long calls. You okay to talk?’ he said. ‘I’m, um, sorry.’
‘It’s all right, Tom, I’ve done my tears. Thanks for coming, being there for us.’ She smiled, but it wasn’t “us” any more and a great lump came back into her throat. ‘All well, I hope, with your calls?’
‘Sure, but they kind of involve you. Maudie called, just out of the blue, which came as something of a shock. That was her I was talking to. It was really all about you, but she was chatty and said we must get together sometime. She’s worried about you, Nattie, and a tad miffed that you hadn’t confided in her. I hadn’t realised how little she knew, so I’m afraid I’ve spilled a few beans. Sorry, but she is trustworthy, Nattie. I think you ought to see her and let some of it out. It’s helped me, being able to unload onto you.’
‘I will. I’ve missed her in my life, but you know the risks, we had to be so careful. I just felt . . .’ Nattie tailed off, distracted by a huge temptation to tell Tom about the baby. ‘And the other call?’
‘It was from Ahmed, actually; he was about to take off. He wants me to help you move house tomorrow and as a thank-you he wants to send me a return ticket to LA. He says he’s got bags of room and I should come out for a few days after Christmas. Do you think I should accept?’
‘Yes, definitely! You’re the one person he can trust to know where he lives. Take a few paintings – you could pick up some terrific clients. You’ve got your work on Instagram; plenty more you can show. Will you keep in touch with Maudie now?’
‘I’ll think about it . . . Will you see her, though? And Nattie, I’m not sure if I should tell you, but Ahmed let on to me about the baby. I’m so happy for you. Share that with Maudie too, won’t you? She’d love it.’
Nattie felt nervous, strapping Thomas into his car seat later; Shelby wouldn’t know Ahmed was gone yet, and she couldn’t see any guards as she looked over her shoulder, up and down the street. It was a grey wintry afternoon, three o’clock and still full daylight. There were few passing cars and no one much about, just a teenager on a skateboard, an elderly man wheeling a tartan shopping bag.
She drove across London and found the flat, which was in a street off Ladbroke Grove, the Harrow Road end, and easier for the school run by far. The guy from the estate agent, a sharp dresser in a double-breasted suit, seemed very intrigued with her friend, with whom he’d done pretty good business, first thing that morning. ‘We only took instructions on the flat last week, and the photographs only went online last night. Will he be back from his travels soon and able to see the property for himself?’
‘He’s on a big job,’ Nattie said obliquely. ‘Did he mention I’d like to move in tomorrow?’
‘Oh, yes, and he suggested we put the heating on today, have it nice and warm for you and this little chappie by then.’ Harvey, he said his name was, chucked Tubsy under his chin.
It was a three-bedroom flat with a lovely big through room, living, kitchen and dining all in one, on the ground floor, and the bedrooms one floor up. The décor was neutral, fine, and she marvelled that Ahmed could have found something as attractive and presentably furnished as this, in half an hour on a Monday morning. She could see why he hadn’t had time to look for Shelby’s Tweets.
He had even hired a van for Tom, who was going to do the heavy lifting. Jasmine would be looking after Tubsy while it was all going on and would bring him with her when she collected Lily from school. Nattie was going to meet up with them at the school and lead the way to the new flat. It was another new address for Jasmine, but she seemed very philosophical about it all, taking it in her stride. Nattie felt relieved and intensely grateful, especially since after seeing them sorted and settled she had to drive the short distance to Queen’s Park to tell Hugo her decision.
That was tomorrow, though. Tonight was for sobbing herself to sleep in the bed she had shared with Ahmed.
She locked up the new flat, leaving the heating on, and drove with Tubsy to Jade’s house, where Lily was having tea. Lily looked very ready to come home – was that just because it was a tiring time of year with so much going on?
‘Jade’s mummy was crying about something to do with Ja
de’s daddy,’ Lily said, once they were in the car. ‘He wants to take some table or other, and Jade’s mummy kept saying, “And just before Christmas too!” Are you getting a divorce like them, Mummy? Are you going to marry Dan?’
‘No, Lily, I’m married to Daddy. Dan’s a sort of distant daddy. He loves you and Tubsy very much, and me, and we’ll see him on the times he can come over from America. I’m going to miss him!’
‘I am too.’ Lily seemed okay with that, though, and about the new flat she had yet to see – which was very near school, Nattie said, and no distance from Daddy either.
Nattie still had to call in sick; she would do it first thing in the morning. Moving house would have been a legitimate excuse except that no one at the office knew about the various upheavals in her life and they might have taken some explaining.
She gave the children their supper, got them into the bath, Tubsy had his bottle then she went into Lily’s room to read her a story.
Lily was crying. ‘I don’t like it here without Dan. The house feels funny, sort of empty. I won’t be able to do any more stories with him. I wish he hadn’t gone.’
‘So do I, darling, but you can write to him about any ideas you have, I’ll help you.’
‘Will he do them like a book just the same and send them back?’
‘I expect so, darling. He may be very busy – he’ll be working very hard out there – but I’m sure he’ll try. And you’ll be busy with your schoolwork. Are you making something for Daddy in school as well?’ Nattie held her breath. She felt desperately sad for Hugo; a hand-made present from Lily would mean so much.
‘It’s a sort of folder for him to keep his papers in. I hope he likes it.’
‘Daddy will love that! I’ll read you one of the Just William stories, shall I? But I think you’re very sleepy . . . Lily soon dropped off, pulling round the duvet and snuggling into her usual sleeping position with Kangy. Nattie crept out of the room.
The Consequence of Love Page 34
