by Unknown
‘I didn’t say that,’ Ellen bleated.
‘How dare you set up such a perverted match?’ Pheely stormed at her.
‘Spurs is not a pervert,’ Dilly yelped. ‘He’s bloody lovely.’
Lifting her pint of bitter to her purple lips, Godspell let out a strange, disembodied wolf-howl of laughter.
‘And you can shut up!’ Dilly wailed, in the grip of her alcohol and sugar high. ‘You only came along so that you could gloat at me because you think you’re so grown-up and superior. You might be too bloody cool to talk nowadays, but you’re a freak.’
When Rory lurched back from the loo, Dilly was in full swing, laying into her mother again, now chemically hyperbolic to the point of meltdown. ‘You’re just jealous because Spurs and Rory fancy me, and I get to choose between them and you only get wrinkly old has-beens with beer bellies – and I’ll probably be fabulous at sex and you’re hopeless. I know because I read your diary and you wrote that you faked your organis – organ – origam—
‘You fake your ORIGAMIS!’ she announced victoriously as Pheely turned purple. ‘And you!’ Dilly wagged her finger at Rory. ‘You probably don’t even remember yours because they’re wasted on fat Sharrie. She’s such a minger, I don’t know how you could bear to do it. I mean, loads of girls must fancy you, even though you’re not that bright . . . Rory . . . Rory?’
Raising his eyebrows in drunken alarm, Rory sauntered straight past the table and out of the door, pitching into the coat hooks before he fell into the re-emerging evening sunshine, muttering to no one in particular that he had to do the evening yard check.
‘Where d’you think you’re going?’ Dilly yelled, at his departing back.
‘Getting away from you, I should think,’ Pheely told her, with surprising dignity, given the recent revelations. ‘Few men like to witness children’s temper tantrums.’
‘Piss off, you old cow!’ With a sob, Dilly fled to the loo.
‘Oh dear, I suppose I’d better go after her.’ Pheely grabbed her champagne glass for a swig. ‘She’s been very emotional – exam stress, you know.’ She spoke loudly to appease the pub at large, her voice drenched with maternal patience and understanding. But her hand shook, belying her humiliation and reluctance to face the monstrous, hormonal, drunken, jealous, immature mess that awaited her.
But before she could stand up, Godspell unfolded herself like a waking bat and fluttered silently after Dilly, shooting one of her killer winks over her pointed shoulder.
Pheely sat down gratefully and reached for the bottle. ‘I’ll let her deal with it. Maybe they’ll make friends again.’
‘Like us.’ Spurs steadied her glass, which was rattling under the bottle neck.
‘We were never friends.’ Pheely waited for the froth to subside as she poured, her eyes brimming with tears.
‘I thought we were.’ He was trying to get her mind away from what had just happened, his own petition for peace immaterial. ‘You were like a goddess to me. You bought me my first pint in a pub, taught me to roll a joint, introduced me to Hendrix when I still thought Duran Duran were real musicians. And you helped me finish graffiti-ing Nazi Nigel’s garage wall.’
‘Ssh.’ Pheely shot Ellen a guilty look, aware that she had been caught out. Then, despite herself, she let out a little gurgle of laughter at the memory.
‘I’d like to be friends again,’ Spurs entreated.
The laughter died in Pheely’s throat. ‘I don’t think that’s possible.’
‘Please forgive me.’
‘You should have asked that a long time ago.’
‘I was too fucking scared,’ he said quietly.
‘You aren’t afraid of anything.’ She laughed hollowly.
‘I am now.’ He gazed at Ellen, eyes haunted.
Pheely cleared her throat. ‘What do you think, Ellen?’ She stretched across to top up Ellen’s glass, spilling champagne everywhere.
‘It doesn’t matter what I think.’ Ellen resurfaced from trying to merge with the furnishings.
‘Oh, yes, it does.’ Pheely’s green eyes trapped hers, and her hypnotic voice growled. ‘You’re the reason we’re sitting here, my darling. You keep telling me that Spurs has changed – something you have obviously gleaned from your short horticultural acquaintance. And you’ve certainly been happy to let him set out to seduce my daughter under your garden guardianship.’
‘That’s not fair!’
‘It’s the truth,’ she pointed out bluntly. ‘As Dorothy Parker said, you can lead a horticulture, but you can’t make her think. Why are you digging up old graves like this?’
‘My garden angel,’ Spurs murmured, reaching for his glass. But his eyes remained haunted.
Ellen looked from him to Pheely, feeling cornered and exposed, knowing she was to blame for this if it all blew up.
‘I’m stirring because I can,’ she said truthfully. There was no point in procrastinating. ‘I don’t know about the past or the future because I’m only passing through. That’s why I can burn bridges and boats saying that you two should get on like a house on fire.’
‘Perhaps an unfortunate analogy, given Spurs’ arson record,’ Pheely murmured, but her eyes were brimming even more.
‘Everyone deserves a second chance.’ Ellen resorted to another cliché.
‘If not a second generation,’ Spurs said drily.
‘Quite.’ Pheely let a wary smile dawn over her champagne glass as she studied him. ‘You should leave Dilly alone. You’re not Wordsworthy.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Okay, so I was never cut out to be a host of daffodils. That doesn’t mean you and I can’t be civil to one another.’
Pheely cast Ellen a thoughtful look, then started to giggle. ‘Maybe the Oddlode outlaw can come in from the cold at last,’ she conceded. ‘But that’s not a reason to set me up as this wretched renegade’s mother-in-law, Ellen. What were you thinking of?’
‘I didn’t set anything up,’ Ellen bleated, eyeing Spurs, who shrugged nonchalantly.
Suddenly she, too, found the situation ludicrously funny. ‘That’ll teach me to go gardening with a reformed rake.’
‘Digging up the past can be the best way to lay new paths,’ Spurs said smoothly, looking at Pheely. ‘Does this mean you forgive me?’
‘Only if you leave my daughter alone.’ Her eyes twinkled, the freshly wiped tears replaced with renewed spirit.
‘I’m only interested in riding her horse,’ he declared, tipping his chair back. ‘Not her.’
‘As long as you mean that.’ She glanced towards the door to the ladies’. ‘She needs you like a hole in the head.’
‘I couldn’t agree more.’ Spurs looked at Ellen, who registered the echo and swallowed uncomfortably.
‘Is Rory okay?’ she asked, anxious to move on.
‘Probably passed out in a ditch.’ He didn’t seem remotely concerned, but picked up her cue and played the subject-change game. ‘Sold the cottage yet?’
‘Almost.’
‘I’ve told Ellen she must at least stay for Ely’s party.’ Pheely was watching them contemplatively, still feeling her way back into talking to Spurs like a normal human being.
‘Oh, absolutely,’ he agreed, with a strange edge to his voice too. ‘I certainly wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
‘Surely you’re not going?’ Pheely was amazed.
‘On the contrary, I’m guest of honour,’ he replied, as Godspell came back with a very grey-looking Dilly. ‘Your father’s party is set to be quite remarkable, isn’t it, Witchy?’
Godspell flared her pale nostrils and settled back in her seat to fold up her black layers, indicating for Dilly to sit next to her.
‘Sorry Mum, Ellen – Spurs.’ Dilly spoke very carefully because she was frightened of slurring. She hung her head, unable to look at them. ‘I think I’ve had too many Archers.’
‘Maid Marion felt exactly the same way, darling.’ Pheely raised her glass, eager to bestow forgiveness while she w
as feeling conciliatory. ‘Let’s all forget about it.’
Dilly managed a wobbly, grateful smile. ‘Should I go and check if Rory’s okay? I think I upset him.’
‘I’ll go.’ Spurs sprang up and edged his way around the table.
Suddenly Ellen felt a warm hand clasp her fingers. ‘I need a word with you.’ Before she could protest, he was spiriting her towards the door. As she stumbled past Godspell, Ellen was almost certain that the little Goth shot her another killer wink.
‘Never double-date with a blonde,’ Pheely told the two girls cheerfully, and reached for the champagne bottle. ‘This always bloody happens. Bubbly? It’s the best thing for sobering you up, Dilly darling. If you’re not going to chat, can you just turn your head to the left a bit, Godspell? I’m still not intimate with your wretched chin.’
‘So I’m not your soulmate?’ Spurs laughed as they climbed the short hill through the village towards Rory’s yard.
‘It was just some silly teen stuff Dilly was spouting,’ Ellen lied, remembering with shame that she had been the one spouting it.
‘She’s absolutely adorable, isn’t she? Especially when she’s pissed.’ He looked at her. ‘Pheely was the same at that age.’
‘Thank you for apologising. It meant a lot.’
‘I didn’t do it for you.’
‘It doesn’t matter. It was a noble thing to do.’
‘I did it for Dilly.’ He watched her reaction.
‘Oh.’ She let this sink in. ‘Good.’
Overhead, damp birds were having frantic conversations before bedtime. The sun had come out again, low and red, burnishing the wet leaves.
‘You like her, don’t you?’
‘I like them both.’
‘There was a time,’ he plunged his hands into his pockets and turned to walk backwards so that he could look out across the valley at the rainclouds moving away, ‘when I wanted Pheely more than anyone else in the world. I had this unbelievable crush on her. I thought I’d die without her.’
Ellen fought down the jealousy demons. ‘And now?’
‘Ancient history.’
‘She’s still young.’
‘It was only ever a kid thing, although at the time it felt like the world would stop if nothing happened.’
‘But it did almost happen, didn’t it?’ she reminded him awkwardly.
‘Of course – you know about the crows. I really screwed up there.’
‘As opposed to screwing Pheely.’
‘God, but I love it when you’re crude.’ He cackled, then looked at her profile for a long time as they walked. ‘A friend of mine said I’d never get her to bed in a million years. When she agreed, I wanted to show him he was wrong.’
‘Slightly unsubtle actually inviting him to watch, don’t you think?’
‘I was stoned, I was sixteen. Besides, I’ve always been an exhibitionist. I think I did Pheely a favour. We’d have been disastrous.’
‘You were pretty young to become a step-parent,’ she said pointedly.
‘You never know, it might have straightened me out.’
‘I doubt that. You’d just have been one step-parent closer to incest.’
He laughed. ‘Which would only leave Morris dancing.’
‘Poor Morris. So sad dancing alone.’ Ellen hated how easy it was to patter with him. ‘Is this what you brought me out here to talk about?’
‘No. I like talking to you. I know I can say anything without shocking you.’
‘Like what? That you fancied Pheely when you were sixteen, but now you fancy her daughter?’
‘Yes.’
Ellen’s heart sank.
‘But that’s not what I wanted to talk about either.’
They started crossing the green – smaller and wilder than the one in Oddlode – wading through long wet meadow grass and wild flowers that waved in the wind beneath a row of creaking elder.
‘What do you want to talk to me about?’
‘This.’ Without warning, he cupped her face in her hands and kissed her. But this time his mouth took hers with the softest, sweetest impact. As their lips yielded, a strawberry fresh tongue tasted hers, making a great husk of longing loosen inside her, tickling her inside out with yearning.
For a moment the loud roaring in her ears made Ellen panic that they were destined to be run over by a maddened local farmer on a tractor. And then she realised it was just the sound of blood rushing in her ears. The goosebumps almost popped right off her skin, like ball bearings in a magnetic storm, as she felt the electricity rip through every muscle and staple her to the spot.
‘Tell me to stop.’ He kissed her lips, her face, her ears, her throat.
Ellen said nothing because she couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe for freefall exhilaration. If he threw her down on the spot and took her there and then she wouldn’t protest, despite the close proximity of several sheep and a farmhouse.
Then she kissed him back and the elders seemed to close in around them like blossomed curtains as the world disappeared.
‘Christ, Ellen,’ Spurs breathed into her mouth, ‘we could be so good together.’
‘So why stop it happening?’ She kissed him harder and deeper, loving the way their bodies fused.
‘I can’t.’ He groaned, tasting her teeth. ‘I can’t. I begged Pheely’s forgiveness for you, not that bloody kid of hers. I admit it. I don’t give a fuck if I’ve known you a day, a week or a year. I don’t care that you’re going away. I want you to go away. I just want to love you before you go.’
‘I want to love you too.’ Their hands slithered beneath clothes on to hot skin.
‘Do you?’
‘Yes.’
‘You love me?’ His fingers traced her burning-man tattoo.
‘I could.’ She shivered.
A moment later he’d pulled away with a violent jerk, starting off across the green once more. ‘Tell me we’re not soulmates now!’ he threw over his shoulder.
Ellen reeled as the elder curtains opened and the sky fell down.
‘You bastard!’ She ran after him, grabbing his arm. ‘How dare you?’
‘How dare I what?’ He swung round, walking backwards towards a dewpond. ‘Prove you wrong?’
‘There’s a world of difference between wanting to pull each other’s clothes off and being soulmates – if such a thing exists.’
‘Oh, do explain,’ he taunted girlishly, skipping to the edge of the pond, which was a sheet of burning orange in the evening sun. ‘Explain it just like you did to Dilly.’
‘Fuck off!’ She stalked to the other side of the pond to give herself a safety zone. ‘You can’t just pounce on me because you’ve got wood over her.’
‘Is that what you think?’ He sank to his haunches at the water’s edge, staring into it.
‘Yes. You admitted you have the same feelings about her as you did for her mother all those years ago. You’re dying to get into her knickers.’
‘And you’re jealous as hell,’ he said victoriously.
‘Bollocks,’ Ellen fumed, then slammed on the brakes and shrugged in defeat. ‘Why should I be jealous of a ravishing teenager with no side to her, breasts like tennis balls and her sex life ahead of her?’
‘And why should I possibly want to get into her driven-snow white little knickers?’ He stood up, smiling wickedly.
Despite herself, Ellen laughed. ‘You are so bloody scruple-free.’
‘I need to get inside someone to get you out of my head. You take up a lot of room.’
‘Don’t use Dilly. She needs looking after.’
‘Maybe you’re right. If she and Rory become lovers, I’ll be chuffed for him. If you took a lover, I’d just want to kill him. And you feel the same way about me.’
‘That’s such rubbish.’
‘I fancy Dilly, Ellen, but I love you.’ He started wading through the pond towards her, hamming it up. ‘I love you.’
‘Cut the love crap.’ She laughed nervously.
‘I’m trying to – I’ve been trying to, haven’t you noticed? I keep climbing up to higher ground, but the tide rises and you wash up on my fucking beach all the time.’ He stood in the middle of the pond, up to his knees in glowing red water. ‘You’re like the little mermaid who traded her immortality for legs and stalked into my life at just the wrong moment.’
‘Don’t tell me, I’ve been running through your mind ever since?’ She snorted.
‘Yes!’ He spread his arms wider. ‘I want you to go away. I want you to walk into this water towards me and dissolve.’
‘Go jump off your high ground.’
He rubbed his wild curls and looked up at the sky. ‘The little mermaid was a hell of a lot nicer than you. For a start, she was a mute. That prince was a bloody idiot marrying somebody else.’
‘Are you planning to get married to a mute, then? Might be hard to exchange vows.’
He closed one eye, watching the bustling clouds and letting out a bitter laugh. ‘Will you marry me?’
‘Don’t believe in it.’
‘In that case, will you organise my stag night?’
‘I won’t be here.’
‘I might get married this month.’
‘I might leave tomorrow.’
‘You see? You’re going to dissolve, after all.’ He scanned the sky one last time before dropping his chin and looking at her. ‘You know, I haven’t been able to cool down since we met. I’m boiling hot all the time. Are you?’
She pressed her thumb to her mouth. ‘Actually, I’m not so hot. You said so yourself.’
‘Oh, you are very, very hot.’ He watched the ripples on the water. ‘We both are. What does that mean?’
‘That it’s been unseasonably warm for the time of year.’
‘No. This is what happens when you get sent to hell.’ The silver eyes blazed as he looked at her again. ‘And I am in hell.’
‘Why?’
He didn’t answer.
‘What did you agree to do that’s so awful?’
He looked down at the water and kicked up an angry wave. ‘To find that out, my little mermaid, you’ll just have to solve the riddle before you dissolve for ever.’ Then he looked up at her once more, blew her a kiss, thrust his arms out again and then fell backwards into the water, sending up a great tidal splash. As the turbulent ripples subsided, he floated on his back, staring at the sky. ‘I want you to make another wish.’
