‘And he heard me say that bit about catching him getting out of the bath?’
‘Yep.’ She was trying not to giggle.
‘Ah.’ I turned around slowly. Kai was leaning against a wall looking exotic in another leather jacket, and faded-to-grey jeans. The fact he was wearing dark glasses just added to the image. ‘Then you did hear me say that I didn’t want you to think that.’
‘Never crossed my mind.’
‘Good.’
A conversational impasse resulted. I stared at my shopping trolley, wishing it wasn’t quite so full of single-woman crap. A packet of biscuits wobbled atop multi-pack crisps and the only really nutritious food, a pack of frozen steak and some fruit, was right at the bottom. I didn’t really care what Kai thought of me, but some tiny little niggle of pride didn’t want him to see me as an ‘insta-food for one’ girl.
‘Why don’t you come over for a meal?’ Cerys must have caught a look at the Birds Eye specials crammed in the far side. ‘I am so bored with my own company that I could make conversation with Fred and Rosemary West if they dropped by. Please, Holly.’
‘Bring Nicholas,’ Kai added. ‘I need to do a follow-up on that drugs article anyhow. Need a bit more input from him.’
‘Nicholas’s in Scotland at the moment. Staying with Ma and Dad. He’ll be back in a fortnight, so we could come then.’
Cerys groaned. ‘I might have exploded by then. Come tomorrow, please. Look, I need distracting from my predicament, don’t I, Kai? You’d be doing me a kindness.’
Kai pushed off from the wall. It was like someone erecting a skyscraper right next to me. ‘Go on, Holly. You could return my flashlight at the same time.’
‘And do your photographs.’
‘It’ll be dark.’
‘I’ll describe the place to you, then.’ Cerys said, in a ‘standing no nonsense’ tone that boded well for her future as a mother of twins.
I finally gave in and agreed. Otherwise I was afraid they’d keep me talking until my syrup-topped cones melted. They let me go and I drove home, to find Megan camped out on my doorstep.
‘Good, you’re back.’
‘Good, you’re here. You can help me unpack the shopping.’ I unlocked the front door and she went inside, carrying a loaf of bread while I struggled behind with four carrier bags with stretching handles. ‘Don’t strain yourself.’
‘Vivienne says it’s time to start doing proper magic.’ Megan could barely contain herself. ‘She says we can start our wishing spell.’
‘How long have you been possessed by the ghost of Enid Blyton?’ I pushed past her and started filling the freezer.
‘We had a meeting while you were in Scotland.’ She peered inside my freezer. ‘Did you see Aiden, by the way?’
‘Might have.’
‘I think I might get one of these.’ She wiggled the hinge experimentally. ‘Your doors have never blown off, have they?’
‘I’ve never kept a Big Mac for seven weeks. Why are you bringing up Aiden, all of a sudden?’ Megan knew about Aiden, of course; keeping the fact that I’d had sex from her was like hiding Smarties from a dog.
‘I think he’s delish.’ She took one of the apples I’d rolled into the fruit bowl. ‘If you don’t want him, I’ll have him.’
‘I do “want him”, but not like that. He’s happy with the whole “no strings” thing, I’m happy with it, end of. Why does that make everyone – by which I mean you, Meg – so uneasy?’
‘It’s not very romantic though, Holl, is it? Having a sex-only relationship?’ She bit the apple. ‘Don’t you sometimes think it’s a bit shallow?’
‘Nope. Well, yes, but it is kind of the point. Shallow is good. Kama Sutra sex, no ties and definitely no meeting-the-family, how-shall-we-spend-Christmas talks. Fan-bloody-tastic, my dear. I recommend it.’
Megan shrugged. ‘You say. So, are you on for Wednesday? Vivienne’s at seven. Oh …’ she looked a little embarrassed, and, as she’d been discussing my shag-pal without so much as a pink cheek, it must be bad. ‘She’s given us a list of things.’
‘Things?’
‘For the spell. Hold on.’ Megan raked about in the pocket of her robustly tight jeans. She did look fantastically curvy in them, I had to admit. ‘Here.’
I read the typed list twice. ‘But this is … I mean, it’s some kind of joke, isn’t it? A horrible, sick joke?’
Megan put her head down and mumbled and her cheeks darkened.
‘The nail from a demon? Frog’s head? A rich man’s hidden treasure? Oh come on, Meg, these are nasty. She can’t be serious, she’s having you on.’ I scanned the list again. ‘Where’s she getting this “spell” from? The Boys’ Own Book of Black Magic? The Beginners’ Grimoire?’
‘She said it’s in a library book.’
‘Seriously? Only if she’s a ticket holder to the Library of the Damned, and she’d better not spill anything on the pages because she really wouldn’t want to upset the librarian …’
‘It’s all stuff we need for the spell.’ Megan sounded defiant, although she’d still got her hair over her face. ‘Vivienne says the things have to be hard to come by or everyone would be doing it.’ Now her head came up and her brown eyes flashed me a look. ‘Don’t you want us to have our wishes come true? I mean, you haven’t even really got a wish, have you? “Some excitement”, that was the best you could come up with, and do you know something, Holl? To me, your life already looks pretty exciting. You’ve got your own house, fantastic job with all that travelling, a family that loves you, and you’ve even got fucking Aiden, no strings attached. What have I got – a detonated fridge in a rented flat, no boyfriend, and a twenty per cent discount on curtains!’
Wow. I’d never heard her so militant. It was like being bitten by Bagpuss. Maybe there was something about Vivienne’s group that was doing her good. ‘Yeah. Sorry. Of course I’ll come along. How many of these things do I have to get?’
‘As many as you can. We all need to bring lots of stuff and duplicates are good, apparently. Anyhow. D’you fancy going out tomorrow night? If we’re doing the spell on Wednesday, tomorrow might be my last night as a single girl! We could pop into York, there’s a band playing at Fibbers …’
‘Can’t, sorry.’ And because I still felt a bit indignant that my best friend thought my life, which she knew contained more shit than a laxative testing unit, was already so great, I added, ‘I’m going over to Kai’s for dinner.’
‘Who? Male or female?’
‘He’s a journalist, lives in Barndale Woods in the most fantastic cottage.’
‘Sexy?’
When I thought about Kai, all that came to mind were those golden eyes. ‘He’s not bad.’ And then, taking pity on her, ‘For an about-to-be grandfather.’
Megan grinned. ‘You had me really jealous there for a second, bitch.’
And then the full-body image thundered in, and I could see those dark stubbled cheekbones, long thighs in washed-white jeans, and the way his shoulders filled out that black leather.
‘Holl? You’ve gone pink.’
I shook my head and the image was gone. ‘I think, actually, it might be quite fun to have the spell to think about,’ I said. ‘Phew. Yes.’
The ground was a bit drier today, so I’d inched the car down the track to the Old Lodge this time. I didn’t want a repeat of the falling-in-the-mud thing and I most definitely didn’t want a rerun of the meeting with the ginger guy. I glanced around, eyes keen for the dull gleam of the rising moonlight on a gun barrel, but the woods were quiet tonight, apart from the rustle of small, terrified wildlife and the imperious hoot of an owl. My headlights raked the darkness until they found the answering lights of the Lodge and I parked as closely as I could to the front door.
‘Oh good, you came.’ Cerys opened the door to me. ‘And you brought wine! Fantastic.’ She lowered her voice. ‘He won’t let me drink even a drop. Says it’s bad for the babes, even though I’ve told him, at eight months all they’r
e going to get is a bit relaxed. Especially as I think I’m really doing well if I drink half a glass. God, I really can’t wait to have them out of there, so there’s room for other things, like food and breathing. And I can relax in a chair without feeling like I’m sitting on my own lap.’
She shuffled back and let me into the hall. ‘We’ve got the dining room straight, thankfully; I hated eating in the kitchen. Well, I say we, Kai is about as much use to me right now as a condom would be. Spends half his days on the phone, the other half on his laptop, and absolutely no percentage sorting out this place.’
I followed her into previously unseen regions, still talking. ‘Anyway, only another week or so and I can go back to Peterborough. Mum and Dad will have got my flat sorted by then – my ex doesn’t want to leave, but he doesn’t want to pay either, so Dad’s getting some of his friends to go round and then Mum’s going to give the place a once-over. Apparently,’ she raised her voice slightly when we heard footsteps on the stairs, ‘I’m in no fit state to be cleaning and moving furniture and suchlike.’
‘Come on now, you’re as fit as a butcher’s dog,’ said Kai, arriving behind us in the enormous kitchen. ‘Your mother was always a soft touch.’
I turned around and nearly didn’t recognise him. His hair was neatly tied back and he’d had a shave, which made his cheekbones stand out more. He’d got out of the washed-out denims in favour of black trousers and a black shirt, which made him look taller, and oddly, more imposing.
‘Yeah, she married you.’ Cerys carried on leading the way, until we stopped in a room where the walls were red as blood. ‘Make yourself comfortable, Holly, I’ll just stand here and envy you. Kai, you can fetch the food through.’ She waved me over to a leather couch in one corner. It, too, was oxblood red. The vast mahogany dining table was about the only thing that didn’t look like it had been poured directly from an artery; even the carpet was red.
‘It’s very red,’ I said, perching atop the leather.
‘Oh, it was like this when we moved in. I will take bets the warlock that built the place never had a girlfriend, just an unhealthy obsession with Lord of the Rings. I mean, the little study is practically a scale model of a hobbit hole. The sofa is Kai’s; I didn’t want to put it in here, because it’s virtually invisible, but it’s the only place it fits. Still, he’ll probably paint the whole place magnolia eventually.’ She leaned against the sofa back and rolled her hips. ‘I adore him, really I do. I mean he helped Mum out with money and everything, he’s never not visited even when he’s been on sort of undercover work, he even gets on with Dad. He just doesn’t have much of a clue where fashion, style and normal human operating systems are concerned. Sorry, now I’m embarrassing you. Shall I open the wine?’
‘Please.’ I thought she was being a bit hard on Kai. He didn’t strike me as being all that unsociable. Just a bit withdrawn, maybe. A little bit … sad.
Kai carried through a huge dish of chilli which we ate with baked potatoes. At least, Kai and I ate; Cerys nibbled a few mouthfuls then had to stand up and walk around the room to get that to go down. After that, whilst we ate plum crumble, she stood at the window and looked out into the darkness.
‘No, it’s no good. I’m going to have to go and lie down.’ She looked towards the floor. ‘My legs have started to swell. At least, I assume they have, I haven’t seen them since June. God, where does all the skin come from?’
Kai jumped up, but she glared at him. ‘Kai. We have a guest. Now, I realise that you are somewhere to the sociability left of “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time”, but, please, for me, try and make polite conversation. We didn’t invite Holly over so she could sit on her own in here while you hover around on the landing in case my waters go while I’m getting into bed. Now, play nicely you two.’
She went out and, I noticed, closed the dining room door behind her. Kai looked at me, properly, for the first time. ‘I’m not that bad,’ he said. ‘More wine?’
‘She probably worries about you.’ I pushed my glass over. ‘I worry about my dad, although I’ve no idea why; he’s a fifty-five-year-old English teacher not a cliff-diver.’
‘You’ve cause to worry about Nicholas though.’ He held up his wine glass and stared through the amber liquid at the light. The wine and his eyes were exactly the same colour, I noticed.
‘Sometimes.’ I spun the word so that it would be clear it was my final comment on the subject, and he noted it with an inclination of the head, which brought a silence during which we both emptied our glasses.
‘I’d better be off,’ I said. ‘Say thanks to Cerys for me, dinner was lovely.’
‘Not hurrying away on my account?’ He came around to my side of the table to set the corkscrew to another bottle. ‘She’s right, it is good to have company. I’m sorry I’m not better at it.’ The cork slid out with a plump sound. ‘Come on, have another drink. I promise I’ll try to think of something to say.’
‘All right.’ I was in no real hurry to get home and, close up, this man was gorgeous. Nicholas had been right, although I’d die rather than admit it; Kai was just my type. He had an air of being very much cleverer than he ever let on, coupled with an exact awareness of himself, that was hugely sexy. There was a kind of careful casualness in the way he sat beside me and passed me the refilled wine glass, brushing my wrist with the tip of a finger as he did so, that told me he’d probably reciprocate if I wound my arms around his neck and kissed that fabulously inviting mouth. With half an eye on his reaction I licked my lips and shook my hair back. ‘Have you thought yet?’
‘Mmmm?’ Result. His eyes travelled from my face, via my chest, to my thighs. ‘What about?’ And now his voice had gained that telltale raspy note that meant he was picturing me naked. Oh, this was going to be almost too easy …
‘I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking about?’ I leaned in a little closer, until I could smell the slight earthiness of his skin and feel the gentle heat of his breath against my cheek. Hardly a challenge at all, in fact. I’d have thought that he’d be the one to make the running, the first approach …
‘I’m actually wondering what that piece of paper is that you seem to have dropped under your chair.’ Kai jerked his head at the floor and his golden eyes held a knowing amusement. ‘If it’s important, you don’t want to leave it here when you go home tonight.’
Oh, well played, sir! I almost broke into a round of applause at his sudden wresting of the power back from my slightly unsubtle come-on and into his own hands again. And he’d managed to work in a ‘don’t take it for granted that I fancy you’ reference – I was clearly in the presence of a master player of the game, possibly someone even more practised than me. I gave a grin to show that I understood the checkmate situation, and bent down to pick up the much-folded wodge. ‘It’s not important, actually. Well, it sort of is, but … it’s like … it’s a spell. No, it’s the ingredients of a spell.’
‘Really? Can I see?’ As he stretched his hand towards me I saw for the first time that he had long, slender fingers and the thumb ring was more of an ornament than an affectation. ‘God, someone’s got a sense of humour.’
The earlier pheromone-laden moment was gone, wiped out by his obvious interest in the words on the page and I found myself telling him about Vivienne, about the gathering in the woods, the earnestness of the group. He laid the paper down on the table and looked at me over the top of his wine glass, serious-faced now. His eyes had lost the challenging spark and there was something about the way he listened, something calm but almost empty, as though I had to keep giving him words to fill up the quiet space between us.
‘And you all believe in this?’
‘I don’t. I think Eve is sceptical, but she’s going along with it, I dunno why. Isobel and Megan are deep in.’
He bit his lip. ‘This Vivienne, what is she? Fraud, delusional, a real follower of Wicca? Because mucking about with these things, with this kind of psychological mojo,
without understanding what you’re doing is asking for some serious shit to come down on your head.’
‘And you’d know. As a journalist.’
‘I know a lot of stuff.’ A slightly loaded sentence and for a second he looked different, as though I was looking through a crack, into someone else. ‘But I believe less than a fraction of it.’ A twitch of an eyebrow. I couldn’t tell if he was being deliberately cool or whether he was warning me off, and I felt oddly unbalanced. Tried to regroup myself by sipping slowly at my wine and focussing my attention on the glass for a moment. ‘And I like you. I wouldn’t want demonic forces dragging you down to hell when I’ve only just met you. Tell me, do you believe in anything, Holly?’
Did I? What was there to believe in? ‘Why?’
‘Just interested.’
‘Well, of course I do. Death and taxes.’ The room spun slightly. At least he’d said he liked me, so maybe his back-pedalling on the seduction scene was reversible? ‘What made you go into journalism?’ The change of topic just fell into my mind as though it had been posted through the gap in the conversation.
He gave me a slow stare from eyes that shone with a chilly light. ‘I’m a nosy bastard,’ he said and raised his glass to me. While he drank, he never took his eyes off my face but there was no sexual invitation in them now. The man sitting beside me was something other than the leather-clad game player and his look was colder, darker. Full of depths and shadows. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Well, I figure, if you got married at sixteen you probably didn’t go on to A-levels or University, because you’d have a wife and Cerys to support. Which means you didn’t fall into it after an English degree because you couldn’t think of anything else to do with it, like so many people do, so it has to have been a conscious career choice. And that means some serious thinking, because you’d have had to have gone back to studying, as an adult. You’re – thirty-six, wasn’t it? – and you’re working high-profile stuff, so you’ve been in the profession a while.’
‘Have you been spending your spare time thinking about my life choices?’ The tone was light, frivolous, but his eyes said different, the shadows were rising now, coming closer to the surface. He didn’t like this.
Hubble Bubble Page 5
