A Kiss in the Dark

by Cat Clarke

  chapter thirty-eight

  The nights were the hardest. If I wasn’t lying awake and panicking about the situation I’d found myself in, I was dreaming about Alex. The worst dreams were the happy ones – the ones where we were walking on the beach or lying on my bed and doing all the things couples do. The happiness of those dreams, the absolute joy and the fullness of my heart, made it unbearably painful to wake up and remember. And the unhappy dreams were just unhappy. Asleep or awake, I couldn’t win.

  Mum tried to talk to me over breakfast on Sunday. I sipped tea while she ate homemade granola. ‘I know you haven’t been eating. I’m not as daft as I look, you know.’

  I shrugged, not in the mood for a lecture about eating disorders. I didn’t have an eating disorder, I just didn’t feel like eating. It was strange because whenever I’d been upset in the past, I’d always turned to food. Crisps, mostly. Chocolate too. But now food was the last thing on my mind. I could eat it – and did when Mum was watching me – but I didn’t really want to. ‘Mum, it’s fine. I am eating. It’s just … hard.’ My voice wavered and I gulped down the lump in my throat, wondering if that counted as one of my five a day.

  Mum scooted her chair over and put her arms around me. ‘Oh love, I can’t even imagine what you must be going through. I wish you’d come to me sooner … I feel like the worst mother in the world, sometimes. It breaks my heart that you didn’t come to me as soon as … you … it … happened. What kind of mother doesn’t even know when her daughter’s hurting like that?’

  I held her tight as the tears started to slip down my face. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong, Mum. Nothing, OK? I don’t want you thinking like that. I … I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. This should never have happened.’

  She pulled away and looked at me, then brushed away my tears with her finger. Her eyes were glistening too, but she’d managed to hold it together so far. ‘Well there’s no use crying over spilled milk, is there? And no one’s better than us McAllister women at making the best out of a bad situation. We’ll get through this, Kate. I’ll be with you every step of the way.’ We hugged again and I didn’t want to let go. It felt good to have her on my side, even under false pretences.

  Mum let me get away without eating breakfast, but she said she would make anything I wanted for dinner that night – I could choose anything in the whole world (provided it was something she knew how to cook). ‘Macaroni cheese?’ I said, without thinking. And my mouth started watering at the thought of it – the crispy, golden breadcrumbs on top of gooey, cheesy pasta. Obviously my brain had been lying about me not wanting food. ‘Deal,’ Mum said. ‘Double helpings for both of us, I think.’

  I smiled. ‘I think I might do some piano practice later too.’ This was the one thing guaranteed to make Mum’s day. She loved to listen to me play. She would prop some cushions behind her head and lie on the sofa with her eyes closed. She said it was the only time she felt truly relaxed. She adored music – that’s why she was always on my back about it – and she really did think I had a chance at a professional career. I wasn’t so sure, and I don’t think my teacher was all that convinced, but if I doubled the amount of practice I’d been doing there was at least a chance I could do well in the competition. I’d missed playing, I realized. It soothed me too, as long as I only played pieces I was actually good at. Otherwise it was the most frustrating thing in the world. I resolved to play some of Mum’s favourites that afternoon. It would be good to get back to normal in at least one area of my life – an area I could control.

  Mum’s eyes lit up, just like I expected them to. ‘I would love to listen to you play. I’ve really missed it. Now why don’t I pour you another cup of tea? And there are some biscuits in the jar if you fancy … they’re your favourites.’ My mother could be crafty when it suited her.

  My stomach was crying out for food, I realized. How had I not noticed before? I took a few chocolate digestives from the jar (to Mum’s obvious delight), got a fresh cup of tea and headed back to my room. I took a bite of biscuit and accidentally moaned at how amazing it tasted. I jammed three biscuits in my mouth then licked the chocolate from my fingers.

  I was brushing some crumbs from the corner of my mouth, feeling guilty for being a disgusting pig, when my phone buzzed. It was lying face down on my pillow. I expected it to be Stella, or maybe even Astrid. I didn’t recognize the number. I had to read the message a few times before I understood.

  ‘You don’t know me, but I know all about you. Alex Banks is my sister. I need to talk to you – urgently. Can we meet up today? DON’T ignore this message. Jamie.’

  Another message arrived as I was re-reading the first one. ‘I’m not a psycho or anything. And I’m not one for blackmail … but I STRONGLY suggest you meet up with me. Alex doesn’t know I’m doing this.’

  My stomach churned and the biscuits very nearly made a reappearance. I had to sit down on the edge of the bed as I was overwhelmed by dizziness and nausea. Alex’s brother, the famous Jamie.

  I didn’t know what to do. I wondered if I should tell Mum, but she’d probably call the police. I was sure there was some kind of law about this – Alex or anyone in her family shouldn’t be allowed to contact me. Wasn’t it witness intimidation or something like that?

  And what kind of person says they’re not one for blackmail? You’d only mention blackmail if you were intending to blackmail someone, right? There was nothing he could use against me though – there was nothing left of my life for anyone to ruin.

  I wondered how he reacted when he found out that his little sister had been dressing up as a boy. He couldn’t possibly think that that was OK, could he? No one would ever think that was a normal thing to do. But surely the only reason he’d be contacting me would be to get me to drop the charges against Alex. Either he believed she was innocent, or he thought she might be guilty but wanted me to drop the charges anyway. I shouldn’t meet up with him. What if he wanted to hurt me? From what Alex had told me about Jamie he didn’t sound like a violent sort of person, but you never really know what someone is capable of until they’re pushed, do you?

  It would be crazy for me to see Jamie. I should ignore his texts and wait and see what happened at the hearing the next day. Yes, that was exactly what I should do. I read his messages again and then switched off my phone.

  Twelve minutes later I turned my phone on again and texted him back. ‘Meet me on Portobello Beach at 4 p.m. By the pub at the end of Bath Street.’

  His response was almost instant: ‘OK.’

  *

  There are some things you do in life even though you know you shouldn’t. They are the things which make us human. I hadn’t done many things like this – up until last year, at least. Eating six bags of crisps in one day was about as risky as my life got. Meeting up with Alex at the gig had been my first proper risk. There was a chance he would turn out to be some old geezer pretending to be a teenage boy to lure girls off the internet. (It had never occurred to me that there was a chance of him not actually being male.) Going to the gig felt like a good risk to be taking; it was exciting. For the first time in my life I had no idea what was going to happen, and when I finally laid eyes on Alex I knew all the angst and nerves and changing my outfit four times had been worth it.

  This could not have been more different. This was a risk without any possible positive outcome. It was stupid. Sergeant Tanaka would definitely not approve, and Mum would kill me if she found out. There was a chance it could jeopardize the court case – there might be some obscure legal loophole no one had told me about. But I had to meet up with Jamie. I needed to hear what he had to say.

  In the back of my mind I knew the real reason I had to meet up with him, but I tried my best to block it out. The truth was, I wanted to know more about Alex. I wanted to understand.

  chapter thirty-nine

  It was bitterly cold outside and the wind was vicious. That was partly why I’d chosen the beach – it would probably be quiet. Jamie an
d I would be able to talk without being overheard, but there would hopefully be a couple of people around if something went wrong (even though I wasn’t exactly sure what that ‘something’ could be).

  I told Mum I needed to go for a walk to clear my head. I thought she was going to say I couldn’t go, but she just nodded and said, ‘I think some fresh air will do you good – blow those cobwebs away.’

  I kissed her on the cheek and told her I’d play the piano after dinner. Then I thanked her, which took her by surprise. ‘Thanks for what, love?’

  I shrugged. ‘Everything, I suppose.’

  Mum smiled a pretty smile and it made me wish she’d do it more often. ‘We’re going to have a lovely evening, just the two of us. Maybe we can watch a film later – take your mind off …’

  I said that would be nice and then I left the house to go and meet the brother of the girl I had accused of sexual assault.

  A couple of men were standing outside the pub on the promenade. One of them was having difficulty lighting his cigarette in the wind. Neither of them was wearing a jacket; the one who wasn’t smoking had both his hands jammed into his armpits for warmth. The pub looked busy, with lots of big groups having leisurely Sunday lunches – grandparents and parents and kids and babies. Everybody looked like they were having a good time, all cosy and warm and together.

  A runner wearing black leggings with fluorescent yellow shorts on top was sprinting along the shoreline. A man was walking along the promenade with two out-of-control Dalmatians; he kept hissing at them to ‘heel’ while trying to look like he was totally in control. There was an old couple sitting on a bench, huddled together against the cold. The woman poured something from a red flask into red cups and the man smiled at her lovingly. It was probably their little Sunday ritual – a walk on the beach after lunch, no matter the weather. I wondered if the flask had alcohol in it.

  ‘Kate?’ My first thought was: Alex. The voice was almost the same, maybe ever so slightly deeper. I turned and it was hard for me to think clearly for a second or two. The boy in front of me looked so much like Alex that I couldn’t help but stare. Then I started to see the little differences, then the differences became more obvious and after a full five seconds there was just your standard family resemblance. But those eyes … I kept on coming back to those eyes. They were so much like Alex’s it was incredible. Except the softness was missing; Jamie’s eyes were narrowed and not particularly friendly.

  ‘Hi,’ I stuck out my hand for him to shake and he stared at it before eventually grasping it for a millisecond. I hadn’t meant to do that, obviously.

  ‘Thanks for coming.’ His ears were red from the cold. I was grateful for my woolly hat. He wasn’t wearing a hat or gloves, but he had a thin grey scarf wrapped round his neck several times. He was wearing a jacket I recognized; Alex had worn it once. It fitted Jamie a bit better – he was taller and broader.

  ‘You didn’t exactly leave me with much choice, did you?’

  He winced and said, ‘Sorry about that. I didn’t think you’d come otherwise. Sorry.’

  His apology surprised me. I’d half expected him to arrive all guns blazing, maybe pin me up against a wall and threaten me. ‘Um … it’s OK.’

  ‘Shall we walk?’ He nodded down the promenade and we started walking. The old man on the bench said ‘Good afternoon’ to us and Jamie said the same back, then added something about the terrible weather which made the man and the woman laugh. I could feel them watching us after we passed them. They probably thought we were just like them – a couple in love, out for a Sunday stroll. Although maybe the fact that you could have ridden a bike through the gap between Jamie and me was a bit of a giveaway.

  Jamie didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, but his eyes kept flicking towards me and then back towards the sea. My eyes started watering from the cold and I swiped away the tears with my gloved hand, hoping Jamie didn’t think I was crying.

  We were halfway to the end of the Promenade when he spoke. ‘The last time I was here was with Alex.’ I said nothing. ‘The weather was almost as bad too.’ This time he looked at me so I felt an obligation to nod. ‘Why are you doing this?’ He stopped walking; I stopped too.

  ‘Doing what?’ He just stared at me, waiting me out. ‘I don’t know what you want me to say. We really shouldn’t be talking about this anyway. If the police knew I was here …’

  ‘Fuck the police! This is my little sister we’re talking about. This is her life. Why are you doing this to her?’

  ‘She assaulted me.’ The words sounded strong and true. Jamie just stared at me some more, forcing me to continue. ‘I’m the victim here.’ These words sounded timid and unsure.

  ‘My sister would never hurt anyone.’

  Anger flared. ‘I suppose you thought your sister would never dress up like a boy to trick some girl she’d met on the internet. Your sister hurt me. She ruined my life!’ The tears that appeared now had nothing to do with the driving wind. I turned away from Jamie, wiping away my tears.

  When I turned back to Jamie he was staring out to sea. A huge tanker was making its way up the Firth of Forth. ‘She’ll go to prison, you know – Young Offenders. How do you think she’ll cope in a place like that?’

  I had enough sense not to shrug. ‘I don’t know.’

  Jamie sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘You’re really going to sit back and let this happen?’

  ‘She’s the one who confessed.’ I was sounding more and more like a child.

  ‘Yeah, that took everyone by surprise. Mum and Dad couldn’t believe it. They had a hard enough time wrapping their heads around the idea that she’s been borrowing my clothes, but they didn’t believe she’d ever be capable of hurting anyone. Not until she spoke to the police yesterday. Then all of a sudden they’re wondering where they went wrong, how they could have raised a daughter who would abuse someone. They believe Alex, because why would she lie about something like that?’

  ‘Why would she lie about something like that?’ I was on dangerous ground but I really wanted to hear his answer.

  Jamie’s gaze was steady. ‘Love.’

  ‘Love?’ Never has the best word in the world sounded so wrong.

  ‘She loves you.’ I shook my head, but he ignored it. ‘She loves you so much that she’s willing to go to prison in some screwed-up attempt to make things right.’

  ‘And I suppose she told you this, did she?’

  ‘She’s not that stupid. She knows that I’d tell anyone who’d listen – that I’d do whatever it takes to get her out of this mess. But I know how her mind works, and I know how she feels about you. Because she told me that much, at least. Before …’

  ‘What did she say?’

  So Jamie told me how he’d confronted Alex and forced her to tell the truth about what she was doing. It turned out that he’d been the one who’d made her break up with me. She’d told him that we were supposed to have sex on Hogmanay. He knew we hadn’t gone any further than kissing. His belief in his sister was unshakeable. He was a good brother. It must be nice to have someone like him in your life – someone to defend you even when you make terrible mistakes.

  He moved a little closer to me, his eyes imploring. ‘Don’t do this, Kate. Please don’t do this to her. I’m not condoning what she did, deceiving you like that. I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like for you. I’m pretty sure I would completely lose my shit if something like that ever happened to me. But she really cares about you, and I think deep down you know that. My sister is a good person – the best person in my life, probably. She’s just … confused, I suppose. She doesn’t know how to be the person she wants to be.’

  ‘That’s hardly my fault, is it?’ I crossed my arms against the cold, but he probably thought it was defensiveness.

  ‘I’m not saying it is, you just have to know that she would do anything for you. She broke her own heart to try and make sure you never found out the truth about her. She knew y
ou’d never be able to understand, and she didn’t expect you to. She never wanted to hurt you.’

  ‘Well she did.’ Nothing Jamie could say would make me forget that.

  ‘So now you’re going to pay her back by making sure she goes to prison for something she hasn’t even done? She’ll have a criminal record, you know. Even if she gets away with a short sentence, that will follow her around forever. For the rest of her life.’ He paused and looked away. His shoulders were tensed up and his jaw was tight. ‘Please don’t do this to my sister. I’m begging you.’

  There was no point in trying to convince him that my accusations were true. He knew Alex wasn’t guilty. There are some things you just know about the people you love. If a stranger suddenly accused Mum of committing a crime, I would know they were lying (unless it was illegal parking, because she’s always doing that). It didn’t matter though; Jamie couldn’t do anything about it as long as Alex was insisting she was guilty. It was strange to think of the two of us working together in this – the only two people in the world who knew the truth.

  ‘How is she?’ I hadn’t meant to ask. Jamie seemed as surprised as I was at the question.

  For a second I thought he was going to tell me I had no right to ask such a thing. But maybe he thought it would help change my mind. ‘She’s shut down completely. Won’t talk to Mum and Dad. She’s been pretty much holed up in her room since I got back.’

  ‘But I thought she’d be in …?’ I stopped and thought about it. All this time I’d been picturing Alex in a grimy prison cell, but she’d been at home. It was obvious, when you thought about it. They weren’t going to put a sixteen-year-old girl in with the hardened criminals; it wasn’t like she was a danger to society. I felt stupid for letting my imagination run away with itself, but most of all – and much more powerful – I felt relief. My legs felt weird so I propped myself up against the low wall separating the promenade from the beach.