I stood still and waited. He lifted his hand and touched my ear.
He said my name, and his voice was rough.
I closed my eyes.
It was a mistake. He stepped back and the world swung around. When I opened my eyes the air was crystal cold, my breath forming small clouds. He was walking over to his car.
‘I can’t see anything the matter,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘If it happens again you’d better call the garage.’
I should have just bitten him there and then. But then maybe he’d have reacted the same way as Lauren: she is his daughter, after all.
He won the last game of chess we played. The roses he’d brought were in water on the window ledge and their smell hung in the air. He called checkmate and looked at me with such glee that I laughed out loud.
‘Andy,’ I said, ‘stay with me for ever.’
His grin faded. I grabbed his hands in mine.
‘Let me turn you.’ He tried to pull away but I held him tight. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t feel this.’
He stood up and yanked his hands from my grasp.
‘I shouldn’t be here,’ he said.
He walked out of the room, out of the house. I followed, pulling at his clothes, shouting his name. He pushed me away and climbed into his car.
‘Andy, tell me you don’t love me. Tell me that and I’ll leave you alone.’
‘Meg, I have a wife and a newborn baby.’
‘Tell me you don’t love me.’
Key in the ignition, he said ‘Let go of the door. I’m going to drive away and I will run you over. ’
‘You can’t protect them,’ I yelled into his face. ‘Wait and see. You can’t protect them against me.’
He turned on the engine, gave me a great shove and drove away, while I lay in the dirt screaming.
He never said it. He couldn’t say he didn’t love me because it wasn’t true. I’d hoped Jimmy would make him sit up and notice, that jealousy would force him to acknowledge his feelings, but I always underestimate his goodness. Jimmy had been fun. He made me laugh and he’d fallen quite easily. I could have taken him back to Paris. He’d have liked it there, the clubs and the nightlife. With his fire-eating and his gift of the gab he’d have been a hit. We could have run together for a while. I watched him climb into his van and drive away.
Richard and Ali wheeled the bike into the barn and disappeared from my view. I swung my legs off the window seat and walked across the room to the landing. I took a long breath. I could smell the girl.
I wondered if Richard might have locked her in, but the door to her room opened easily. Considering her state, locking it might have been safer.
She was lying on the bed, sleeping softly, one arm stretched out with her head resting on it. Her blonde hair lay coiled on the pillow behind her. Her skin was paper white and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes.
I sat on the bed beside her and she didn’t stir. I watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed, almost imperceptibly lifting her white shirt on the in-breath, revealing a millimetre or two more of her flesh where the shirt opened over her breasts. I leaned forward and gently opened another button so the shirt gaped wider. She was wearing a low-cut white bra which shone against her skin. I slid a finger under the edge of the fabric.
She parted her lips and let out a puff of air.
I ran my fingers lightly down her chest, over her breasts and stomach, down to the waistband of her jeans. Her breathing calmed again. I smiled. She was Andy’s girl and he would want to be where she was. I would talk to Richard. I stood up, bent and kissed her lightly on the forehead, then left the room. I locked the door behind me.
I think of Richard as my son. I have seen mothers with their teenage boys, the bickering and the indulgence. They spoil them, do everything for them and in return hope for a little respect and unconditional love. They watch their girlfriends jealously, anxious that they will turn the son against the mother, that the mother will be found wanting. Richard is related to me only by blood and he was fully grown when I found him, but we have been together for many years now, and the relationship has never been anything but filial. I have taught him about our kind, helped him onto his two feet where he now stands so confidently.
So when I call him I expect him to come. Five minutes, he said. What were they doing in that barn? When he’d come to the door he was fully clothed. I was tempted to march over and find out what was going on, but instead I walked into the kitchen. For want of anything better to do I put the kettle on, paced while it came to the boil.
I went to the front door and called again, and this time they both appeared. He was pulling her by the hand. She glanced at the open gate, but she followed.
‘Tea?’ I said when they came into the hall.
‘Yes please,’ she said, and he nodded.
They leaned against the work surface, standing next to each other, not touching but undoubtedly a team. I handed them the hot mugs. He put his on the surface behind him; she held hers in her hands.
‘Well?’ I said.
He raised his eyebrows.
‘You know what. That girl upstairs. What are you doing with her?’
‘Isn’t that obvious?’
‘But are you going to finish the job?’
Richard looked down at his shoes. He looked sheepish.
‘The second bite is nearly healed,’ I said. ‘Only a day, maybe hours. Then it will be time to turn her and she’ll be new and bewildered. It’s a full-time job looking after someone newly turned. Have you thought about that?’
Definitely sheepish. He rubbed his toe against the floor as though trying to move something with it.
Then he coughed and mumbled something.
‘I can’t hear you,’ I said.
‘I’ve changed my mind,’ he said clearly.
Ali and I were looking at him.
‘I thought she was the one, but she’s not. She’s actually in love with someone else.’
‘So what are you planning to do with her?’
He looked at me helplessly and lifted his shoulders. ‘Let her go?’
‘She’s in quite a state.’
‘She says she’s in pain when she’s away from me. She sleeps for days at a time.’
‘It’s because she doesn’t want to turn. The changes are happening in her body, but her mind won’t accept it.’
‘Won’t that stop when the wound heals?’
‘It will start to reverse itself. It will take time and she will need care.’
Richard picked up his tea. He looked at Ali. ‘We have to go to Leeds tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I don’t really want to take her.’
They were both smiling, sharing some secret between themselves.
‘Do you want me to take care of her?’
He looked back at me. ‘Tomorrow?’
‘And after. You can leave her to me if you want.’
‘Would you do that? That would be fantastic.’
‘Well, what are mothers for? It won’t be the first time I’ve got you out of a scrape.’
He grinned, and relief spread across his features. ‘I’m not sure I’d call this a scrape,’ he said. ‘A stupid mistake.’
‘Reckless carelessness with someone else’s life and happiness,’ said Ali.
I stared at her, but she didn’t flinch. Richard was smiling.
‘In time,’ I said, ‘when everything’s fallen back into place, it won’t seem so bad as that.’
‘I hope so,’ said Richard. ‘Thanks, Meg. You’ll be better with her anyway. You’ll know what to do.’
‘I think I will,’ I said.
Later, when Richard and Ali had disappeared again, plotting and scheming together, I went back up to Lauren’s room. She was still sleeping, but she had turned onto her side and her open shir
t had fallen across her breasts and covered them.
I knelt at the side of the bed and smoothed the hair from her face. She sighed and pouted. I kissed her and her lips were warm, her breath slightly sour.
‘You’re mine now,’ I said to her. ‘I have something of Andy’s after all.’
She murmured in her sleep and I stroked her hair. ‘He’ll come looking for you.’
I kissed her lips again, a lingering kiss, and her eyes opened and looked into mine.
‘You and me,’ I whispered. The words slipped inside her mouth and mingled with her saliva before she swallowed them.
45. Ali
‘Of course they seemed nice,’ I said. ‘They wanted information. They wanted to know if you’d seen me. They weren’t going to say ‘if we find her we’re going to break her legs and remove her face with a meat cleaver’. You might not have told them anything then.’
Richard had been around for a long time and he knew a lot more about the world than me. But where Smith and Jeannie were concerned he seemed a bit naïve.
We were on the train to Leeds again, and on the floor between my feet was a Tesco’s bag-for-life rammed full of drugs.
‘If you remember, Jeannie and I had a fight and I won. She’s not going to let that go, I promise you. She’s a hard bitch. I lived with them; I know them better than you do.’
I’d spoken to Smith last night. I phoned the club and asked for him. I told him I had what he wanted and I was prepared to exchange it for ten grand. We’d agreed to meet at ten o’clock tonight. He’d sounded wary, not unfriendly. I knew better.
When we got to Leeds we put the carrier bag in one of the station lockers. The day stretched ahead of us like an empty page, with just one appointment at the bottom that we had to work towards.
‘What first?’ Richard asked.
‘Haircut,’ I said.
Richard, it turned out, was loaded. Meg too. In fact most vampires are, except for the really new ones. If they’ve lived long enough, and are canny enough, they manage to accumulate. Richard had offered to take me shopping and, seeing as I was going to have money of my own soon, I’d accepted. I was still sporting the homeless-girl-dressed-from-a-skip look, although I was a lot cleaner now that I was living in a house with a bathroom and washing machine. It seemed like time to move on.
I normally cut my own hair with whatever scissors I could find. The hairdresser lifted the strands incredulously.
‘It’s called The Chop,’ I said. ‘Very fashionable on the streets.’
I asked for something funky, easy to manage. I asked her to dye it a bright colour.
When Richard came back two hours later he did a double take. My hair was copper coloured, short, uneven and stylish. They had a beautician at the salon and I’d asked them to do my face too. I was wearing dark smoky make up, kohl and lipstick.
‘We need to get you some clothes to go with that,’ he said.
He knew which were the best shops and had a knack of finding the back streets and the flights of stairs that led to the offbeat and the unusual. He seemed to know what I liked, which was impressive as I was only just discovering that myself. Up to now I had worn what I could find.
We went for lunch in a pizza place, where I had an enormous pepperoni pizza and a Coke. Richard had coffee.
Late afternoon, laden with bags, we booked into a hotel. I hadn’t been sure about this. I knew we had money, but a hotel seemed such an extravagance. And this wasn’t just any hotel: it was the best hotel in Leeds. I’d have gone for something simpler, but Richard insisted.
‘Why have anything less?’ he said.
We walked through the doors into another world. It was hushed and still, hung with chandeliers, a kind of peace covering everything like a layer of ash. I stood and looked around while Richard went up to the reception desk. There were a couple of people sitting in armchairs reading newspapers. A boy in a ridiculous uniform stood near the lifts. I realised what it was that was thickening the air and sliding down the thick wallpaper. It was safety. The people who came here could be sure that everyone else had money too. They wouldn’t be offended by the sight of poverty or need. They could hide out here and pretend the rest of the world was like this.
Richard seemed to know what he was doing. He joked with the receptionist, stood tall as though he had a right to be here. I caught the eye of the boy by the lifts and grinned at him. He looked ridiculous in that hat, those gold ropey things on his shoulders. He almost grinned back, but he plastered the mask back on like a soldier.
Richard came over waving a plastic card. ‘I’ve got us a suite,’ he said.
The boy took us up in the lift, which was as big as a room and had flowers in it. I tried to catch his eye but he wouldn’t look at me, although he smiled obsequiously at Richard. On the fourth floor he walked us down a corridor and opened the door to the room for us. I touched the gold ropes when I passed him.
‘What are those for?’ I asked.
‘They’re meant to look smart,’ he said.
‘They look stupid,’ I said, and he did grin then, although he tried to cover it up.
Richard gave him some money and he left. I turned my attention to the room, which wasn’t just a room, of course, but an apartment big enough to house the Queen. Richard took me on a tour. The living room with enormous sofas and a drinks cabinet. The bedroom with velvet curtains that were too long and draped across the floor, and a bed wide enough that it could sleep all the people who lived in our squat and still have room to toss and turn in the night. And the bathroom.
The bathroom stunned me. The shine on the taps, the expanse of white, the towels piled up in towers, the soaps and shampoos, new bottles of everything.
‘This is just for us?’
He touched the back of my neck. ‘Why don’t you have a bath? Enjoy it. We’ve plenty of time.
‘But my hair, my make up. I don’t think I’ll be able to do them like this again.’
‘I’ll do them for you,’ he said.
First we opened a bottle of champagne and made a toast to ourselves. Then I took my second glass into the bathroom and soaked in the deepest bath I’d ever had, with bubbles up to my ears. I felt like Cleopatra.
‘She bathed in milk,’ Richard said, when I called this through to him.
‘Same difference.’
There were so many towels that I could wrap myself up like a mummy. Then I found a robe in the bedroom which I put on and, after we’d finished off the champagne, Richard did my hair and my face.
It was the second time that day someone had put make-up on for me, the first being the first time in my life. It was very different when Richard did it. I could feel his fingers every time he touched me, and he was so close. I’m sure the hairdresser wasn’t that close to me.
When he did my eyeliner he held the back of my head with one hand and drew it on with the other, his face close to mine and concentrating. I didn’t breathe.
We went out at nine thirty.
I was wearing black jeans and a hoodie and Converse. Richard was wearing his leather jacket. We stood next to each other in the white bathroom and looked in the mirror. We looked too solid for the shiny room, too matt. We laughed, then Richard cut a couple of lines on the side of the bath and we had those. We tumbled out of the lift into the foyer giggling and the receptionist looked in our direction.
‘Shhhh!’ I said to Richard. ‘It’s the money church. Be quiet.’
We held each other’s arms and walked across the reception area pretending to be sedate. When we got into the street we couldn’t hold it any longer and we ran, holding hands and laughing, to the other end of the street.
We went for a drink in a bar and after about half an hour we calmed down. It was getting close to the meeting with Smith and Jeannie and there was no saying how that would go.
I went in on my own.
It was early and the club was pretty quiet. Smith would never normally be there at this time. He likes to make his entrance when everything is already buzzing. He was here tonight though. Him and one other guy I vaguely recognised, who used to hang around the squat sometimes. No sign of Jeannie.
Smith and the other guy were sitting in their normal corner. I sat down next to them.
‘Hi Ali,’ Smith said, and he smiled at me as though we were friends. ‘You’re looking good.’
‘Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.’ Which was true. Smith always looked good, good enough to eat if that was your thing. He was wearing a blue retro Clash t-shirt and ripped faded jeans. He needed a shave and his silver earrings were shining.
‘You look older,’ he said, looking me up and down.
‘I am.’
The other guy moved on his seat.
‘This is Dave,’ Smith said, but he didn’t take his eyes off me.
‘Hi Dave,’ I said. I didn’t look at him either.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Smith said.
I shook my head. ‘I’m not staying.’
‘Shame.’ He looked me over again and I could feel myself heating up. In the past, if Smith had ever looked at me like this I would have been very happy. I would have risked Jeannie’s wrath and followed it wherever it went. But he didn’t look at me at all then, and now it was different.
‘Have you got it?’ I said.
Smith nodded.
‘Dave?’ he held his hand out, and Dave handed him a bag. It was retro too, one of those rectangular Adidas sports bags.
‘Nice bag,’ I said.
He put it on the table. I unzipped it and peered inside. It was empty.
‘In the bottom,’ said Dave.
The bottom of the bag was stiffened with a piece of black plasticated card. I lifted it and underneath I could see a layer of wads of twenties. I felt a bit disappointed. I knew ten grand wasn’t that much, but seen like this it was pathetic. I wondered if I should have asked for more.
I zipped the bag back up and put my hands on the handles.
Smith put a hand on top of mine.
TAINTED LOVE Page 26
