Our Kind of Cruelty

by Araminta Hall

  I sat up as well and turned her round, so we were facing each other on the floor. ‘For fuck’s sake, V. Enough about bloody Angus.’

  She reached forward and took my hand. ‘Come on, Mike, we’re not mean people, are we? I can’t very well just walk out on him. I’ve treated him pretty shabbily, you must agree?’

  Personally I would have let Angus stew, but V is nicer than me. ‘We’ve never cared about the other people before.’

  ‘But this is different. We’ve gone much further this time. I think you should go home and I’ll tell Angus everything tomorrow. I have to do it in person. He’s going to be devastated.’

  ‘I hate the thought of you spending one more second with him.’ The hall light was very bright and it made it hard to think straight.

  ‘Come on,’ she said soothingly. ‘I want to do this properly. Or it’s going to colour our life together.’

  ‘I wish Angus just didn’t bloody exist.’

  I stared at her dipped head concealing her whirling brain, wishing with every fibre of my being that she would repeat the words I had just said. Yes, that’s what I wish as well, was all I wanted to hear. She breathed deeply into her chest, so it rose and fell, then looked up at me and it was like looking straight into the old Verity, as if all the artifice and pretence of the last year had evaporated and we were all that was left.

  She held my gaze as she reached over and put her hand on my chest, her eyes welling with tears. ‘Oh God, Mike, I hate this. Sometimes I wish things were different.’ Her gaze flickered as she drew in a breath and her eyes clouded slightly. ‘But life can be cruel,’ she said, her voice quivering on the words.

  ‘How about if I come and tell him for you? I can’t bear you doing it alone.’

  But she stood up and with it I felt the moment dissolving into tiny fragments of dust. I wanted to scrabble about for them on the floor. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said firmly, even though her voice was shaking. ‘It’s getting late, Mike. Why don’t you head home and I’ll be in touch tomorrow.’

  I looked at the stairs leading up and down. I had imagined taking her home with me and how she would feel in our bed, curled into my body. The thought of leaving her here was almost more than I could bear. ‘You know I’d do anything for you, don’t you V?’

  ‘Yes, of course I do.’ She walked towards the door. ‘And you must know that for now it’s best we do this.’

  And naturally she was right. There would have been something underhand about slipping away into the night, as if we were ashamed at what we’d done, which would have been absurd as nothing was more right than V and me.

  She opened the door and I stood half in, half out. ‘Let me know as soon as you’ve done it.’ I leant back down and kissed her again on the lips. ‘This was our best ever Crave.’

  I emailed her as soon as I got home:

  Darling V,

  I love you, my sweet, my everything. I am so glad we’ve sorted it all out and you will be back where you belong with me. You’re going to love the house, but of course you can change it any way you like. We can even move if you want to. I’ve been thinking recently about making a change. Maybe even going to live by the coast. But we’ve got acres of time to discuss all that and of course I’d never make you do anything you don’t want to.

  Email me as soon as you’ve spoken to Angus. Or if you need to contact me quickly my phone number is 07700 900734.

  As ever, I crave you,

  Your Eagle, Mike

  I slept better than I had done since Christmas, waking to the blissful realisation that by that evening V would be in the house. I called in sick to work and spent the day preparing for her arrival. I told Anna that I would pay her triple if she could get the planting finished by the end of the day and she made a phone call and five Polish men arrived. I went to the shops and bought flowers, champagne, halibut, salad, the water V likes in the blue bottle and some of her favourite perfume for the bathroom. I cleaned and tidied all day, straightening straight sheets, plumping plump cushions, shining shiny taps. I carried all my weights to the basement and emptied the bins.

  I checked my email throughout the day, but I didn’t start to wonder at V’s silence until about three-ish. There was an email from Kaitlyn asking if I was OK and whether or not I needed anything, but I didn’t bother to reply. Anna came in at four to say they’d pretty much finished. She’d be back to completely finish up in the next couple of days, but it was as good as done. I walked round the space with her and I don’t think I exclaimed as much as she expected, but I’d paid her a small fortune, so I didn’t really care. Although I probably should have been more effusive because she’d done exactly what I’d asked and the garden was very beautiful, swaying and sashaying in the breeze. The Polish men traipsed back through the house and I hoovered and washed the kitchen and hall floors.

  There was still no email from V, so I sent her a quick one: Darling, is everything OK? I’m eager to hear from you. I can be there in a shot. X.

  My inbox pinged almost immediately and I dived for my phone. It was a message from the postmaster: message undeliverable, address not recognised. My breath was suddenly hard to catch and my vision dimmed, so I had to lean over the table. There had to be some mistake. And then it struck me that I’d been a fool to leave V alone in this task, whatever she’d said. It was no different than if I had left her alone in one of the bars with a man pawing at her and expecting her to walk through the door of our flat half an hour later. What if Angus had become angry and was right now holding her prisoner at home? Or worse? I grabbed my coat and my phone and rushed out of the house.

  I ran the length of my road, arriving amidst the mass of people and traffic on Clapham High Street. The path to V seemed unbearably long and I wanted to explode a bomb and remove everything and everyone between us. I jigged on the pavement, unsure whether a taxi or the Tube would be quicker. I heard my name being called and turned to see Kaitlyn walking towards me.

  ‘Feeling better, then?’ she said accusatorily.

  But I was too preoccupied to think of a good excuse. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’

  ‘You look a bit feverish.’

  My eyes were still on the road. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re doing, Mike, but you should be careful.’

  I turned to look at her and her eyes were as watery and disconcerting as ever. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The chairman called me in today and asked me to have a look through all the Spectre stuff. He said he was worried it had all got a bit too much for you.’

  I tried to feel irritation at the news but couldn’t muster any. ‘I don’t care. Take it if you want.’

  ‘I don’t want to do anything that might harm you. Or have you been offered another job or something?’

  ‘No, nothing like that. I just don’t really care.’ And it felt a relief to say it, a bit like when you exhale after a deep breath. ‘Look, I have to run. V needs me.’

  Kaitlyn took a small step towards me. ‘Mike, are you sure she needs you? There’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you …’

  ‘Shut up, Kaitlyn,’ I said because I couldn’t bear her commenting on my life or V one moment longer, especially when she had no idea what she was talking about. ‘Just leave me alone.’

  I turned and ran towards the Tube as I’d decided it would be quicker.

  Every second of that journey dragged against my skin, so it felt like time was moving backwards and I was in a bad dream where I would never reach my destination. I ran all the way from Kensington High Street Tube to Elizabeth Road, but I am very fit and I wasn’t even out of breath when I knocked on the heavy black door I had come to know so well.

  Angus answered, dressed in jeans and a grey shirt, nothing on his feet. His hair was messier than usual and his face looked almost crumpled. There were black circles underneath his eyes and I thought he had the air of a discarded man. We looked at each other for a few heartbeats, neither wanting to be the first to break gr
ound.

  ‘I need to speak to Verity,’ I said eventually.

  ‘Sorry, who are you?’ he asked, his face screwed up as he leant against the door.

  ‘Mike,’ I said. The fact I had to introduce myself deflated my momentum.

  ‘God, so you are.’ He stood straighter, his face hardening. I couldn’t work out if he was knocking me off balance on purpose. ‘I’m afraid Verity’s in bed. She’s ill.’

  ‘I still need to come in.’

  His face contorted slightly, but I knew he was from that class of people for whom rudeness is very hard. He was not the type to slam a door in anyone’s face, even if that person was about to make off with his wife.

  ‘You and I should talk,’ I added.

  He opened the door wider and I stepped over the threshold exactly as I’d done the day before. He motioned for me to go into the drawing room and I was able to see the pale sofas I had glimpsed through the shutters, as well as the marble fireplace, the huge Venetian mirror, the pale grey walls, the beautiful works of art.

  ‘You’ve got a nerve turning up here,’ he said. ‘What the fuck’s wrong with you? I think Verity’s made it pretty clear where you stand.’

  ‘Verity hasn’t told you, has she?’ Her sickness suddenly made the silence of the day understandable.

  ‘Told me what?’ He folded his arms across his chest.

  ‘We’re in love. She’s leaving you and coming to live with me.’

  He laughed, a schoolboy splutter. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  I composed myself and tightened my jaw. ‘I’m really sorry to tell you, but you’re part of this game we play, that’s got a bit out of hand. Verity is really sorry about how much she’s hurt you, but it’s impossible us not being together.’

  ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ I saw a flash of fear in his face which hadn’t been there before and renewed my courage.

  I spoke slowly. ‘I am very sorry. Verity and I are in love and she’s going to divorce you and come and live with me.’

  He stared at me for a moment. ‘Have you lost your mind? You don’t think I’d know if my own wife was in love with another man?’

  I was taller than him by a couple of inches and definitely stronger. ‘You know we were together for nine years before she met you?’

  He snorted. ‘Of course I know that. You know she started seeing me before she’d finished with you?’ He shifted his weight and kept his eyes locked on mine.

  My mind jolted slightly, but recalibrated itself quickly. ‘Yes, I know. I had a stupid one-night stand in America which she was furious about and this has all been to pay me back. But it’s finished now; we’ve reached the end of our Crave.’

  ‘Your what?’ He spat the words at me.

  ‘The game we play.’

  ‘Stop, Mike.’ We both turned to see V standing in the doorway. She looked as terrible as it is possible for V to look. She was as pale as paper, but with livid red spots high on her cheeks. Her hair was matted and stuck to her head and her tiny body was shivering inside her cotton pyjamas.

  Angus took the blanket from the back of the sofa and wrapped her in it, which irritated me as I was the one who should be doing things like that. ‘What are you doing up?’

  ‘I heard you both,’ she said. She stayed standing close to him.

  ‘I’ve told him, V,’ I said. ‘It’s OK. We can leave now.’

  But she started to cry. ‘Oh God, Mike, please don’t.’

  Angus put his arm around her. ‘You need to fuck off, mate, before I call the police.’

  I hate posh boys calling me mate, as if they have any idea how to use the word. I directed my speech only to V. ‘I know you wanted to tell him, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we can be together now.’ I took a step towards them but she flinched back.

  Angus stepped in front of her, his arm stretched out to me. ‘If you don’t leave in the next thirty seconds I’m calling the police.’

  I turned to him then, the pathetic monkey man, thinking he had something that was clearly not his. ‘If V doesn’t love me then why were we lying together on that rug last night, pulling ourselves back from making love, planning our future?’ I swung my hand towards the hall and Angus followed my movement.

  He looked between me and the rug a few times, his face dropping and falling. ‘Verity,’ he said, turning to her. ‘What’s going on?’

  V was still crying, her whole body dropping downwards as she sank slowly to her knees. ‘Make him leave, Gus.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I said.

  But V looked up at me, her eyes hard and straight and I knew I’d angered her. ‘Leave, Mike.’ She’d told me she wanted to be the one to tell Angus, she’d even explained why that was the right thing to do, but my impatience had got the better of me.

  ‘I’ll be back first thing in the morning,’ I said. ‘And this time we really will be going home.’

  Angus stayed mute during our exchange, no doubt seeing the superior connection which existed between us. He knew he was defeated and there was no point in saying anything more to him. I simply turned and let myself out.

  I walked home to dissipate some of the energy rushing through me. I was satisfied that V wasn’t in any danger from Angus. He was simply an irritant who needed to be pushed to one side. It was highly frustrating that we would have to wait one more night, but then again, we had the rest of our lives to look forward to, so what was twelve or so hours.

  I didn’t feel like eating when I got home, so instead opened a bottle of wine to cool my blood and smooth my nerves, both of which were still jumping inside my body. When I was a boy and things were bad I used to think I had an army of ants living inside me, patrolling my borders. I could never decide if they were on the same side as me or not and sometimes I would wake screaming from nightmares where they had crawled out of my nose, mouth and ears.

  Maybe Mum had the same ants inside her, because when you drink they go to sleep. Then they lie down in your blood and flow through you like Moses bobbing down the river in his basket. Fetch my medicine, Mikey, Mum would say when I got big enough to open the fridge and reach for the cans on my own. I wished suddenly and violently that she could see me right now, that she could witness all I was and all I had achieved. You’re not a bad lad just because bad things have happened to you, Elaine used to say. Maybe your mum had a rough time herself when she was a girl, Elaine also used to say, maybe she just couldn’t do it right, however much she wanted to. I reached for the bottle and was surprised to find it empty. The night was dark outside and I was suddenly very tired. I went into the drawing room and lay on the couch. I wanted to cry but I couldn’t work out why.

  I had no idea where I was when I woke up. I lay in the darkness with something vibrating underneath me and thought I was back in the flat with Mum getting pulverised in the next room. But where I was lying felt too soft and the air didn’t contain either bitter cold or the heavy stench of fags. And then the pieces of my mind fell into place and connected together and I knew where I was. I scrambled for the phone in my pocket, seeing an unknown number on the screen, although I knew immediately who it was.

  ‘Mike,’ V said. ‘Is Angus there?’

  ‘What? No.’ I looked at the clock on the media system; it was 2.12 a.m. ‘Why would he be here?’

  ‘Because he’s not here.’ Her voice was stretched and rushed. ‘I told him everything and he’s so angry. And our wedding file is open on the computer with all the names and addresses of everyone we invited, so he must have been looking you up.’

  I stood at this. I hadn’t drawn the curtains again and the moonlight had cast the room silver.

  V was crying. ‘I’m calling a taxi now, Mike. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Promise me you won’t open the door to him.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I? We might as well have the discussion now.’

  ‘No,’ she shouted. ‘He’s drunk and I know how strong you are. Mike, please promise me. I don’t want
either of you getting hurt.’

  ‘No one’s getting hurt. We can discuss it like adults and sort it out.’

  ‘Oh God, Mike.’ Her tone had risen even higher. ‘You don’t understand. Don’t open the fucking door.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, ‘OK.’

  I stood still for a minute. V was coming home. It was actually happening. Within the hour she and I would be enclosed in our warm, safe space and Angus Metcalf would be making his sorry, solo way back to his house. It had almost been too easy, too perfect. I quickly straightened the cushions on the sofa and took the empty bottle of wine to the recycling in the kitchen, rinsing and then drying my wine glass, before replacing it on the rack. Even in the moonlight the garden swayed in the breeze and I was so pleased with myself for making every detail perfect for V.

  There was a loud knock on the front door, a fist pounding heavily on the wood. I stayed standing in the kitchen, looking out at the plants whose names I couldn’t quite remember.

  I heard the metallic twang of my letter box flip open and made a mental note to buy one of those letter-catching boxes I’d seen at Angus’s house.

  ‘Open the fucking door,’ Angus shouted and V was right, he was drunk, his words slurring into each other.

  I leant against the sink, my arms tensing so I could feel my muscles curling round my bones.

  ‘You fucking coward,’ Angus shouted. ‘You don’t get to come to my house, then not let me into yours.’

  My fingers were turning white against the porcelain of the sink as the blood stopped flowing to them and I wondered how long you would have to stand like this before they died.

  The banging increased, as did the shouting. Angus’s entitled voice telling me what to do, demanding my attention. ‘What are you scared of?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I said to the sink. ‘Nothing that you could ever do.’

  I walked down my hall towards the banging. It was not enough to simply walk away with her this time.

  I opened the door and Angus barrelled into me, his arms flailing and his eyes wide and wild. He had spittle at the corner of his mouth and he used his feet to kick at my shins. I teetered backwards, taking a minute to recover my strength and meet his punches. I didn’t want to hit him back, but I wanted to stop him and I held my arm over my face.