The Judas Scar

by Amanda Jennings

  ‘Did I do enough?’ Frank asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Will answered. He placed the hot mug on the table beside the bed. ‘You did everything you could. There was nothing more you could have done.’

  Frank nodded and stroked Pie. The cat arched his back and stretched his paws out in front of him. ‘He’ll miss Pinwheel,’ Frank said sadly, stroking him again.

  ‘He’s got you,’ said Will. ‘And Eric. You’ll call if you need me, won’t you? I don’t mind what time.’

  ‘Thank you, William. I couldn’t have done that on my own.’

  As Will drove home his head was full of his cat and what his father had done to her. It made him sick to think of her, so vulnerable and dependent on him. How could Harmony expect him to have a child? It terrified him. Just the thought of being responsible for a baby made him feel weak. He was incapable of looking after anything, he always had been. That would never change.

  C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N

  Harmony watched the clock limp around to six to signal the end of another unproductive day at work. She leant forward and wearily turned off her computer then packed her papers into her bag in the vain hope that she would manage to get some work done at home. Will hadn’t called since Tuesday evening. Before then he’d been calling every few hours, and in the end she’d texted to ask him to give her the space she needed. She’d hesitated before sending it; she knew she couldn’t hide from him forever, but she was still so angry and hurt, so full of regret. She felt utterly betrayed by him.

  ‘See you tomorrow, Alice,’ she said to the department PA, who was cleaning her gold-rimmed glasses on the sleeve of her cardigan.

  ‘Will do. You make sure you try and get an early night tonight.’ She smiled kindly. ‘You look exhausted.’

  No wonder I look exhausted, Harmony thought. Trying to sleep in George’s narrow bed, surrounded by Lego constructions and Star Wars figures with her mind racing was near impossible. She walked down the stairwell and into the building’s reception area. In the main entrance lobby she saw a man sitting on the sofa, reading a newspaper. As she neared him, he lowered the paper and looked up at her and smiled. Her heart skipped a beat.

  It was Luke.

  ‘Oh my God, hello,’ she said, unable to mask her surprise.

  She walked over to him and he stood up, still smiling broadly. There was an awkward hesitation during which she wondered if they were supposed to kiss or shake hands. In the end she did neither.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I had a meeting in Knightsbridge that finished early and it’s too late to go back to the office now, so I thought I’d pop in and say hello.’ He paused then smiled again. ‘It’s nice to see you.’

  She blushed and glanced at the man behind the reception desk who was casually flicking through a car magazine. ‘It’s nice to see you too,’ she said looking back at him. ‘How did you know I was here? I mean, how did you know where I worked?’

  ‘You said. At lunch.’

  ‘Yes. I suppose I did. But sometimes I work from home, or have meetings off-site.’

  ‘Well, I asked this gentleman if you were in today and he rang up to your office,’ he said with wry amusement. ‘Nothing more sinister than that; you don’t have to look so worried. I passed Imperial in the cab on my way to the meeting and then remembered that you worked opposite and thought it might be nice to go for a drink.’

  She tried to smile.

  ‘So have you got an hour or do you have to race home?’

  ‘No, I can’t stay. I should get back.’

  He leant closer to her. ‘I’d like you to come.’ She caught the smell of him, fresh with a hint of aftershave over a natural mustiness that quickened her pulse. ‘And it’s Friday tomorrow. It’s nearly the weekend. An after-work drink to celebrate?’

  ‘I’m staying at my sister’s. She’s expecting me back.’

  ‘Your sister’s?’

  Harmony didn’t say anything.

  ‘Look, I’m here now – just a quick drink.’

  She hesitated and looked at her watch. It was ten past six; it would be chaos at Sophie’s when she got there, the boys would be midway through eating, they’d be fighting, the television would be blaring, then Sophie would be trying to get them to do their homework, shouting as all three did their best to avoid doing it.

  Luke saw her indecision and seemed to take that as a yes.

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘There’s a great restaurant a few minutes’ walk away. It’s smart but very laid back. You’ll like it.’

  ‘I can’t stay for dinner.’

  Luke laughed. ‘Don’t panic. Just a drink.’ He smiled and gestured for her to walk in front of him.

  What are you doing? a voice in her head demanded as they walked down the steps and turned left onto Exhibition Road. Go back to Sophie’s, ring Will, sort your life out. Oh, ignore her, said another voice. It’s fine. It’s a drink. God knows, you could do with one.

  As they walked she was conscious of him glancing at her every now and then. She wondered if people assumed he was her husband as he guided her through the crowds, close beside her, every now and then touching her shoulder. She turned to give him a casual, friendly smile to reassure herself she was doing nothing illicit. He nodded and smiled back – a simple, easy smile. Nothing untoward at all. You’re being silly, she told herself. What’s wrong with you around this man?

  ‘Here we are,’ said Luke. The restaurant was on a side street, with a few tables set out on the pavement, menus, glass jars of golden olive oil and small white bowls of sea salt on each one.

  Luke held open the door and allowed her to walk into the restaurant first. She knew of the place, but she had never been before. It was expensive, the haunt of minor celebrities, MPs and glamorous, designer-clad twenty-somethings. A waiter with jet-black hair and doleful eyes welcomed them, nodding his head in exaggerated hospitality, his greeting almost unintelligible beneath a thick Spanish accent. The main restaurant was dark and cosy but steps at the far end led down to an airy conservatory-style area. There were murals on the walls of curling vegetation and oversized flowers. Harmony felt like a screw in a box of nails beside the sophisticated men and women talking and laughing animatedly, dressed in expensive clothes with glistening hair, a world away from her knee-length black skirt and ponytail secured neatly at the nape of her neck. The opulence unsettled her, made her feel insignificant, insecure. Until her mum died they’d lived in the cramped second-floor flat on the Park Green estate in Reading. Her abiding memory of the place was the threadbare carpet with its garish Seventies pattern of black flowers on a red background. When their mother became too weak to get out of bed, she’d ask them every now and then to ‘tidy the carpet’, and the two girls would get down on their hands and knees and colour in any new patches of wear with black felt-tip pens.

  ‘I don’t see why we have to do this,’ Harmony would grumble as she lay flat on her tummy, legs kicked up behind her, searching for hessian strands to blacken. ‘I mean, it’s not as if anyone ever comes to visit. You’d think the Queen or Princess What’s-her-name was coming for tea.’

  ‘Anne,’ her sister said, as she busily coloured.

  ‘Yes, her, Princess Anne, the one with the hair. She’s not coming though, nobody comes, only the nurse, and I doubt she can even see the floor, her stomach’s so massive.’

  ‘Mum’s dying, Harmony. She wants lots of different things, like soup instead of beans on toast, and three sugars in her tea, and if she wants the carpet coloured in then that’s what we’ll do.’ She pointed at the floor beneath Harmony’s elbow. ‘You missed a bit.’

  ‘Table for two?’ the waiter asked Luke in his Spanish lilt.

  ‘We’re not eating,’ Luke said. ‘We’ve just come for a drink.’

  ‘Certainly, sir. Would you like to sit at the bar?’ He gestured to the other side of the room where there was a dark wood bar with mirrors behind and a row of empty leather stools.

  Harmony asked
the barman what white wines he had by the glass. He recommended a white Rioja with enthusiasm. She thought of Will, who wasn’t fond of Spanish whites.

  ‘That sounds lovely,’ she said. ‘A large glass of the Rioja.’

  ‘And I’ll have a beer,’ Luke said.

  They were quiet as the barman prepared their drinks. Harmony shifted in her seat, glancing up at Luke to give an embarrassed smile as she tried to think of something to talk about. The barman put their drinks and a dish of almonds on the bar in front of them.

  ‘Thank you,’ Luke said. Then he lifted his drink to her. ‘Cheers.’ Harmony clinked her glass against his. She noticed how long and slim his fingers were, his nails cut short and clean. They reminded her of her father’s fingers, or at least how her mother had described her father’s fingers – long and graceful like a concert pianist’s.

  ‘Your dad had the most beautiful hands,’ she heard her mother saying.

  Luke smiled at her, his eyes burning through her to the point where she had to look away. As she did, she noticed the woman on a table nearby staring at Luke while the man she was with stared at his newspaper. When she realised Harmony was looking she glanced away, the skin on the back of her neck reddening as she stirred her drink.

  ‘So are you and Will okay?’ he said, taking a small handful of almonds.

  ‘Will and I?’

  He nodded and put an almond in his mouth.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, trying to keep her voice light. ‘Yes, of course. Why?’

  ‘Things were … ’ he hesitated, ‘strained the other night, and you said you’re staying at your sister’s. And there’s also something about you today. You seem … ’ he paused. ‘Sad.’

  Harmony was aware of her body tensing. She lifted her chin and shifted her weight on the stool. ‘That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong. I’m staying with my sister for a few days; we’re close and I haven’t seen her for ages.’

  ‘I see. I’ve drawn the wrong conclusions. Forgive me.’

  She was about to agree but something stopped her. She sighed.

  ‘No, you’re right.’ She picked at the edge of the scallop-edged drinks mat that sat beneath her wine glass. ‘We’re having a few problems. It’s been a difficult six months.’ She hesitated and glanced up at him.

  ‘I lost a baby and it’s making life hard to deal with for both of us for different reasons.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Losing a child is devastating, I know what it feels like.’

  ‘You do?’ she said.

  ‘Yes.’ His brow furrowed and he swallowed. ‘You and Will must be going through all sorts of emotions.’

  A lump rose in her throat. ‘I am. I’m not sure he is.’ She tried to banish the memory of Will telling her he was relieved when the baby died. ‘Actually, do you mind if we don’t talk about it?’

  He nodded and touched her knee lightly. ‘Of course not. I’m not interested in talking about Will.’ He paused. ‘It’s you I’m interested in.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Do you ever get the feeling you’re supposed to be with someone? That it’s an imperative?’ He leant forward, his face only a few inches from hers. ‘Because that’s how I feel about you, Harmony. I want to be with you. I want to fuck you. Very much.’

  Harmony reeled at his words. She drew back from him, unsure if he was joking, but the look on his face was deadly serious and any comfort she’d felt in his company evaporated. Her stomach lurched. ‘Don’t say that,’ she said. ‘You can’t say that. I’m married.’ She felt as if people were watching them and glanced at the woman who’d been staring at Luke, but she was now occupied with her iPhone, while the man she was with was still absorbed by his paper. Harmony reached down for her bag. ‘You told me you just wanted a drink.’ Her voice was shaky. She pulled her jacket tighter around her.

  ‘I wasn’t entirely truthful.’

  ‘I’m married, Luke.’

  ‘But not happily.’

  ‘I have to go.’ Harmony stood, angry at his presumption, angry that she couldn’t snap back and tell him how wildly happy she and Will were. ‘It was wrong of me to come.’

  Luke grabbed hold of her above the elbow. Her heart pounded. ‘Let go of me.’

  ‘I know you feel it. You felt it that night at the party. I know it from the way you look at me, the way you act around me. I can read you like a book.’

  Harmony didn’t know what to say. Her cheeks felt hot and her mouth dry. She was embarrassed, mortified she’d been that obvious, annoyed she hadn’t done more to hide her attraction, her fascination.

  He brought his face close to hers, his mouth near her ear, his breath hot against the side of her face. ‘You’re inside my head.’

  He eased his grip on her. She felt faint. Her head pounded with a mix of emotions, the nerves and vulnerability vying with excitement and a sudden feeling of empowerment. The bar, the other people enjoying themselves, the waiters shouting orders, the clatter of plates, all of it faded into the background. Heat pulsed through her. All she needed to do was move her face a fraction closer, lift her chin, and press her lips against his.

  Will’s face flashed into her mind.

  ‘I have to go,’ she whispered.

  ‘Don’t go.’

  She turned her face to look at him. His eyes locked on hers. She felt herself weaken for a fraction of a second. No! a voice in her head screamed. For God’s sake what are you doing? She closed her eyes and lifted her hand, placed it flat against Luke, briefly felt the hardness of his chest, the heat of him beneath his cotton shirt, then pushed him away from her.

  ‘I have to go,’ she repeated.

  ‘Because of Will?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Because of Will. I’m married to him. I shouldn’t be here.’

  ‘Desiring something shows you’re alive, Harmony. You don’t have to feel guilt. Without desire we might as well be dead. Desire is our fuel. To live without desiring, without wanting, is to deny your humanity, and God knows how fleeting life is. Never deny yourself pleasure. There’s so much shit in the world, these moments of pleasure are like gold dust.’

  Harmony felt her chest tightening as if a vice was slowly squeezing the air from her lungs.

  ‘Look at them,’ he whispered. He turned her head gently in the direction of the couple at the table near them. She looked at them, the woman on her iPhone, the man with his newspaper. ‘They’re not old,’ Luke said. ‘They’re married, yet they’ve run out of things to say to each other. They are in this beautiful restaurant and she’s looking at other men, bored and disappointed, wondering why she’s there, while he reads The Times vacancy pages, idly flitting over everything. He’s wearing a grey suit, has grey skin, grey hair, sitting with a wife he’s not interested in, dreaming of a job he hasn’t the guts to go out and get. Is that what you want? To be too scared to make changes that would make you happier? I want you, Harmony. I want to fuck you, to taste you. I want to be with you in a way that other people can’t be with you.’

  Harmony breathed heavily, intoxicated by his words, feeling herself weaken with every syllable. Will’s face came into her head again. She closed her thumb on her wedding ring, felt its hardness against her skin. ‘Christ, what am I doing?’ she whispered.

  She grabbed her bag and ran through the restaurant away from him, pushing out through the door and onto the pavement. She walked quickly down towards the Cromwell Road, shaking her head, cursing herself for accepting his invitation, for putting herself in that position.

  She heard footsteps behind her and looked over her shoulder to see him striding after her.

  ‘Don’t follow me,’ she said, picking up her pace. ‘You’ve got to leave me alone.’

  He drew up beside her and took hold of her arm to turn her to face him. ‘Harmony—’

  ‘No, Luke. I’m married.’

  Luke looked up at the sky. He seemed annoyed, frustrated even. When he fixed his eyes on her again, they narrowed. ‘But you want me.’ He s
tared at her. ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’

  ‘No, you’re not right. Who the hell do you think you are to draw all these conclusions?’ She was cross with herself. Cross for opening herself up to him, for indulging such juvenile feelings of lust and attraction, for falling for his playboy looks like a teenage girl. She’d met him three times and there she was, tempted to do something stupid, something that would seal the fate of a marriage that already hung in the balance.

  She turned away from him and started to walk back down to the main road. When she reached it she looked left and right for a taxi. There were none and she swore. ‘I need a cab,’ she whispered. ‘For God’s sake, I need a cab.’

  ‘Don’t go.’

  He was beside her. She turned and they faced each other. ‘I know you’re not telling me the truth,’ he said. ‘I know you feel it too.’ She noticed a fragility about him, an innocence even, that belied his boldness.

  ‘Luke,’ she said, hesitating. She threw her head back and sighed. ‘I feel it, okay? I feel it.’ She paused and shook her head. ‘But it can’t happen.’

  He didn’t reply.

  ‘Do you understand? We can’t be anything more than friends.’ They stood on the street, people walking past them, unaware of them.

  ‘That’s not enough. I don’t want to be friends. Being your friend doesn’t interest me.’

  Harmony didn’t know what to say. Like a chameleon he’d changed again. The vulnerability she’d noticed had vanished, replaced with a rawness, that pulsing sexuality that both scared and excited her. She’d only ever desired Will before now, her desire inextricably linked to love, to one man, a man she knew, who made her laugh and lifted her spirits, whose happy-go-lucky attitude brought her out of her diffident self. But this man standing in front of her looked at her in a way she didn’t think possible. His demeanour was calm and measured, but there was a searing passion in his restraint.

  ‘We have one life,’ he said. ‘Fate brought us together – fate and circumstance – and I’m not going to apologise for feeling this way. Tell me one more time to leave you alone and I will. We don’t know each other.You can walk away. We don’t need to see each other again. It’s easy.’