I hailed a taxi when I got on to Kensington High Street and lay back against the soft seats, refusing to answer any of the cabby’s inane questions. My head felt like it had a vice around it, which was being slowly but surely tightened. I thought I might be sick and remembered I hadn’t eaten anything since an overpriced sandwich at lunchtime.
But when I got into the house the thought of walking through the empty space to the kitchen was too much and instead I went straight up the stairs to my bedroom, where I undressed in the dark and crawled into bed, my body shaking. I pulled some of the pillows into me, shaping my body around them, clinging on to their soft surfaces.
‘I’m so sorry, V,’ I said into the night, my face wet with my own tears and my whole chest as raw and ripped as if I had been mauled by a bear.
If I could have told V about Carly anywhere other than Steeple House I would have done, but she had been ill with flu and so was already there when I arrived home for Christmas.
I had booked a car to take me from the airport and I arrived in the early evening, on an unseasonably warm December night, pitted with fitful rain. Suzi and Colin were pleased to see me and led me in front of an unnecessarily warm fire, where they asked me lots of questions and accepted their gifts and looked at photos on my phone. V, they told me, was asleep and that was for the best as her temperature had only just come down and they’d had to call the doctor the night before. But before long she appeared in the doorway, her hair messy and her body wrapped in a large blanket. Suzi told her to come and sit by the fire, which she did.
We hadn’t seen each other for eleven weeks and all I wanted to do was take her in my arms, but it was impossible with her parents gazing down on us. I couldn’t understand why they didn’t leave us alone.
‘Has your headache gone?’ I asked and it sounded stilted.
‘Much better,’ she said. ‘Another good night’s sleep and I’ll be fine.’
‘I always forget how you young are in constant communication with each other,’ Suzi said. ‘In my day you had to write letters and everything took forever.’
‘I don’t know,’ V said. ‘A bit of mystery. That sounds quite romantic.’
‘Anyway, Mike. I’ve put you in the blue room.’ Suzi stood as she spoke and Colin followed her, as he always did. ‘Night, you two,’ she said as they left. ‘And don’t let Verity stay up too late, Mike. We don’t want her relapsing.’
V rolled her eyes at me. ‘It’s like I’m ten again.’
I smiled. ‘They just care.’
She sighed. ‘Sometimes you can care too much.’
I slid on to the floor and sat next to her, putting my arms around her shoulder. But she moved away. ‘Sorry, ow, I’m still quite achy.’ She looked fine though; there was even a bloom of pink on her cheeks.
The knowledge of what I had to tell V weighed heavily inside me. Because the sex I’d had with Carly had been unprotected I had already had all the necessary tests. The HIV test had already come back with an initial negative but, as I had suspected, the definitive results for that and all the other tests would take up to three months. I would have told V anyway because there has and will never be any point in us keeping secrets from each other, but there was no way I would have put her in any sort of physical danger.
‘What’s wrong?’ V asked.
‘Nothing. Just tired after the flight.’
‘No, there’s something else, I can tell.’
So I told her, as we sat by the fire. Probably I was wrong to do it there and then. Maybe her brain was still slightly addled from her fever. Almost definitely I said the wrong things, even though I had gone over and over my lines on the plane. I told her I’d made a terrible mistake, I would do anything not to have done it, it was only because I was so lonely and missed her so much, I wanted to come home, I would do anything to make it better; she, V, was the only person in the world I cared about, she was all I had, she was everything.
V sat very still while I spoke, her gaze focused on her hands, which were twined in her blanket. When she finally looked up her eyes were rimmed in red and her mouth was set into a small line.
‘Are you fucking joking?’ she said finally and I started to cry. ‘What sort of man are you?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, which was true.
‘And how dare you say you did it because you were lonely,’ she spat. ‘As if it was all my fault. You talk like I made you go to America, like it was my idea. Don’t you think I missed you as well?’
‘I’m sorry.’ My tears were now so violent I could taste them.
‘I thought you were different.’
‘I am.’
She snorted.
‘Nothing like this will ever happen again, I promise.’
‘You’re so weak. Sometimes you remind me of a piece of modelling clay, like you could be anything. You disgust me.’
‘Please.’ I clamped my hands over my ears. ‘Don’t.’
‘Don’t!’ she shouted. ‘Maybe you should have thought of that before you fucked some secretary because you felt a bit lonely.’
‘Oh God, V,’ I sobbed, ‘please. It was nothing. This doesn’t have to change us.’
She laughed at that, but it was not a happy sound. ‘It changes everything. It completely alters my perception of who you are. I thought we understood each other, but evidently we don’t at all.’
‘But I do, I do understand you. I love you more than anything, anyone. I will never stop loving you.’
‘Just fuck off out of my sight.’
‘No, not until you tell me you love me too.’
‘I hate you.’
‘V, stop, I love you.’
‘I hate you.’
‘I crave you.’ She had stood up by then and I was down on my knees, my arms wrapped around her legs. ‘I fucking crave you, V,’ I shouted.
She slapped me round the face, which made me let go of her legs, and she was gone from the room in an instant, leaving the blanket pooled by the fire. I stood and followed her as quickly as I could, but by the time I reached her door it was locked tight against me. I knocked a few times, but the noise simply echoed round the still house and so I went to the blue room, where I lay fully clothed on top of the sheets.
The next morning V’s door was still locked and so I simply sat outside it, calling through the wood from time to time. Eventually Suzi came up the stairs.
‘I think you should go, Mike,’ she said.
‘I can’t go until V speaks to me,’ I replied.
‘She’s very upset. She doesn’t want to speak to you today.’ Her face was quivering slightly as she spoke and her hands were clasped in front of her. I was aware of the presence of Colin at the foot of the stairs.
‘It’s all a terrible misunderstanding,’ I said.
She frowned. ‘It sounds like a bit more than that.’
‘How do you know?’ I sounded harsher than I meant.
‘I spoke to her last night.’ I couldn’t quite imagine that happening and wondered if Suzi was lying, because V would never tell her about our life. And what had I been doing at the time? Surely I hadn’t slept?
‘Please, if I could just speak to her I’m sure we could work it out.’
Suzi shook her head. ‘I really think you should go now, Mike. See how the land lies in a few days.’
‘But it’s Christmas tomorrow.’
Suzi looked down. ‘I’m sorry, Mike.’
I ordered a taxi to take me back to our flat in London and sat and waited for it on my own in the kitchen. I couldn’t quite believe that V wasn’t going to come down the stairs and ask me to walk round the garden with her. I left her Christmas present, a pair of diamond studs, on the kitchen table and wrote a hurried note on to the Christmas-tree label. ‘I am still your eagle,’ was all I said, all I needed to say.
I looked back as we drove away down the gravel drive, the tyres crunching like a welcome, but the house looked stern and empty and there were no faces at the window.
> I could have called Elaine and spent Christmas with her and Barry and whatever kids they had with them at the time, but the thought was simply too awful. Just the thought of the explanations involved was exhausting and besides, I had already sent them lots of expensive gifts from New York, so I felt I had done my duty. Instead I sat in my and V’s empty flat and ate stale bread and cold baked beans because I couldn’t bear to let myself have anything nice. I looked out of the window at fathers pushing new bikes down the road and felt like breaking something.
I called V every hour and sent her too many text messages to count. But she never picked up and never answered. She didn’t come back to our flat between Christmas and New Year and there were no messages telling me what she was doing. We had arranged to spend New Year in New York and I went to the airport on the thirtieth to see if she turned up to catch our flight, but she didn’t show and the plane took off without either of us. I called her from the airport, saying that I hadn’t got on the flight without her, that I could meet her anywhere, but that we mustn’t spend New Year’s apart.
She sent me a text an hour later: I’m not going to see you, Mike.
I went back to our flat and had some flowers sent to Steeple House.
She sent another text that evening: I am not at Mum and Dad’s.
Where are you? I texted back immediately, but she didn’t answer.
I rang Steeple House and Suzi answered. ‘Can I speak to Verity please,’ I said.
‘She’s not here, Mike. I’m afraid she didn’t see the flowers, although I told her about them.’
I tried to keep my voice even. ‘Where is she?’
‘She’s gone away with friends.’
My mind spun at this information. ‘What friends?’
I felt Suzi hesitate. ‘I’m not sure who. Some people she met at work, I think.’
‘She’s gone away with people you don’t know to somewhere you don’t know?’
Suzi coughed. ‘She’s an adult, Mike. She can do what she likes.’
I knew she was lying. ‘Please, Suzi. We have to talk.’
‘I’m sorry, Mike. It’s not up to me. I suppose Verity will contact you when she’s ready.’
‘Yes, but when might that be?’ I asked hopelessly.
‘Sometimes things just run their natural course. You’ve got a good life over there in New York, Mike, and Verity has one here. You were both very young when you met; it’s hardly surprising that things change. That doesn’t have to be scary, you know.’ Her tone was soft and it sounded like the sort of thing mothers told their children. But it made my head feel hot and I put the phone down on the stupid woman because certainly I would have said something unforgivable if I had stayed on the line.
I rang V next and shouted down the line into the echoey silence. I called her a few bad names. I told her she couldn’t just walk away like that. I said we needed each other. I told her again I craved her.
Later that day I received an email:
Mike,
I am changing my number, so there is no point in trying to call me again. Your behaviour has been appalling and I don’t just mean with that girl, I mean in how you told me and how you tried to blame me in some way for what happened. Making money has always been unnaturally important to you, but I went along with it because of your background and all you’ve been through and I could understand how you wanted to create a better life for yourself. But sometimes you scare me and, to be honest, I haven’t felt particularly comfortable in our relationship for some time now. You need to find your own happiness within yourself. I don’t want to be craved; it’s too much. Go back to New York. I won’t be returning to our flat until you have left the country.
Verity
I knew immediately that she didn’t mean a word of the email, but I also knew her forgiveness was going to be hard won. I had to start by doing as I was told, so I booked the next flight out to New York.
God those first few weeks were awful. Mind-blowingly, gut-wrenchingly awful. I remember them like an illness; my whole body ached, my mind was dislocated, the world felt cold and everything took longer than necessary. I made the mistake of writing V emails, daily at first. I said the same things in all of them, a list of pathetic apologies and admonitions. Lines of promises and hopes, dreams and failures. I begged and pleaded, I prostrated myself. I agreed to anything and everything. But she never replied, not once, not one single word. In the end I understood that there was nothing I could say to make it better. That actions were the only thing that counted and I had to simply show V the kind of man I was capable of being.
After my trip down to the basement at Elizabeth Road I became obsessed with the need to see V on her own, without Angus. I realised that the first time I saw her simply couldn’t be at the wedding, with him. But I knew better than to request a meeting. She had laid out the rules in her last email and I couldn’t possibly risk moving backwards. The only way I could think of orchestrating it was to ‘bump into her’. All it took was a bit of patience and, for V, I would wait till the end of time. I loitered a lot where the top of her road met Kensington High Street, reasoning that it was a perfectly reasonable place for anyone to be walking at any time.
In the end I got my reward. Two Saturdays before her wedding, V rounded the corner dressed in black Lycra leggings, trainers on her feet and her hair pulled into a sharp ponytail. My heart actually jolted at her being so close, as if she physically occupied a hole inside me. She jogged on the spot as she waited to cross the road and I knew she was going to run round Kensington Gardens.
I acted quickly, maybe too quickly, raising my arm and shouting her name from where I stood by the bus stop. She turned, looking round for what she thought she had heard, only realising it was me as I walked towards her. Her mouth formed an ‘O’ as I approached and her jogging stopped. I reached her quickly and we stood for a few seconds just looking at each other. She was wearing a black top which zipped up under her chin so I couldn’t see if she was wearing the eagle.
‘My God, Mike,’ she said finally and her voice was a little hoarse.
I leant down and kissed her cheek, inhaling her scent of musky roses, which I was pleased hadn’t changed. ‘V.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Oh, just a bit of shopping. How about you?’
She motioned down the street I knew so well. ‘I live here.’
I looked where she was pointing and feigned surprise. ‘Do you? How nice.’
She blushed. ‘Well, it’s Angus’s house really, but you know.’
I nodded. ‘You must be excited about the wedding.’
She flapped her hands in front of her face. ‘Well, weddings seem to be mostly about planning.’
‘I’m sure Suzi has it covered.’
She laughed. ‘So, anyway, you look well.’ She looked at my chest as she spoke, hardly hidden by the light cotton shirt I was wearing. I could feel her hands on me and I had to shake away the memory.
‘So do you.’ A statement which was never a lie, but especially not that day.
‘Just trying to run off those last few wedding-dress pounds.’ She laughed.
There was an absurdity to the conversation. What we both really wanted to do was rip each other’s clothes off and fuck right there on the side of the road. V licked her lips and her breathing was heavy. I could have reached out and taken her hand; there was nothing stopping me.
‘I’m glad you’re happy, V.’ I lingered over the letter which had always meant something to us both.
‘Thank you. Are you?’ Her gaze was deep and penetrating and I knew there was so much more she wanted to say.
‘Yes, I’m fine. Work’s going well and I’m getting my house sorted. I’ve just had some quotes to put a gym and sauna in the basement.’
‘Oh, fancy.’
‘Well, you know how I love to work out.’ I kept my eyes fixed on hers.
‘Anyway,’ she said, tearing her eyes away from me and facing back to the road. ‘It was lo
vely to see you, but I should get running. Angus and I have a tasting in a couple of hours. The caterer has had to change an ingredient in the starter, something to do with suppliers …’
‘Where did you meet him?’
‘What?’ She looked back at me and her eyes flickered.
‘Angus – where did you meet him?’ I hadn’t planned on asking about him, but she had brought him up and I didn’t want her to think I was intimidated by him.
‘Oh, a work thing.’
‘It’s been very quick.’
She nodded. But then she looked down. ‘Don’t, Mike. I can’t do this, it’s too hard.’
I smiled my best smile. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘No, it’s fine. It’s lovely to see you,’ she said, but her voice quivered.
‘And you.’ I turned from her as I spoke and walked off, glancing back after a few moments, to see her still waiting on the kerb for the traffic to clear.
I wonder if that’s what alcoholics feel like when they have a drink after a long time sober. As if every nerve ending has been smoothed, all your blood warmed, your mind stroked. I walked as if I was on a cloud – I’m surprised I didn’t glide, didn’t rise up into the sky and float above the hordes of people on the pavement. I thought up heroic deeds and noble sacrifices. I made speeches which made others cry, I solved tensions, stopped wars, made peace. It was like my heart was a balloon which someone had finally filled with air and the only possible expression I could hold was that of a smile.
But of course the peace didn’t last very long, not even into the evening. And just like an alcoholic I craved my next fix. I searched my brain for reasons to call V up and wondered how odd it would be to ‘bump into’ her again. I let my mind play and thought that maybe the mere sight of me would have been enough to make her also want to forget the Crave and cut to the end. At any moment of any day I thought it was possible she was telling Angus it had all been a terrible mistake and that really she loved someone else. I strained to hear the ringing phone or doorbell I knew was coming.
Our Kind of Cruelty Page 6
