Violent Daylight

by Caroline Angus Baker

“I want you to love your baby. I want your son to have a stable life. He isn’t my baby, and he won’t ever be. We won’t ever be normal.”

  “I thought you liked not being normal.”

  “I guess.”

  Back in the silence of the townhouse, Canna looked around the place. The house was the same as when she lived there as the humble Virtuosi assistant. Things weren’t happy then, and they still weren’t happy now. She pulled open the top drawer of the white wooden cabinet that sat in the corner of the living room. Empty. She used to keep a few spare morphine tablets in there, in case she couldn’t be bothered to go upstairs to the bathroom. There could still be pills upstairs.

  Claudio emerged from the kitchen. “Should we stay here tonight, or should we go back to Holly’s flat?”

  “Let clear out Holly’s flat tonight, and then come back here. It doesn’t matter if we end up moving in here at 2am. Let’s get it done.”

  “Okay… I guess we need to find dinner now, after the duck disaster.”

  “I can cook for you. Just give me one minute.”

  Canna went up the stairs and through the master bedroom to the ensuite bathroom. The house had barely been touched since she moved out. She pulled open the small cupboard under the hand-basin, to find many of her personal items packed in there, shampoos, lotions. What are you looking for now? Leftover morphine or methadone tablets? Canna had run out when she left London. It was all a blur. She had left London in a hurry, with a head injury and a vicious husband telling her what to do. There were no pills here. Claudio would go crazy he knew she was looking for pills. Her eyes stopped. There was a razorblade, stuck to the underside of the hand-basin, held there with a Band-Aid. Canna hadn’t cut herself in months, but it had been her favourite act of self-destruction. Now that little silver blade sat there, begging to be picked up and used.

  “Blinky?”

  “Coming.” Canna closed the cupboard and stood up to find Claudio there with a frown.

  “Ready to go?”

  “Sure, let’s get you moved in here.” The blade could wait its turn for fun.

  CHAPTER 9

  LONDON

  The men of Virtuosi sat in silence in a meeting room at the studio. Erik shuffled on the dark leather couch. An hour of discussing song choices decided nothing for the new album. He glanced at Henri next to him. “So, Lea isn’t coming into work at all today?”

  “She’s taking a personal day,” Henri replied.

  Claudio glanced up from the paperwork on the glass coffee table between the men, who sat dotted around the minimalist-styled room. “Even musical geniuses need a day off sometimes.”

  “Not Lea,” Dane said. He sat back in the armchair and put his heavy grey boots up on the table. “I don’t think Lea has ever had a day off.”

  “Good managers know how to delegate,” Claudio reasoned.

  “I’ll be sure to tell her that,” Henri said.

  “Is she okay?” Erik asked.

  “Fine.” Henri shared a look with Claudio. He could rely on Claudio’s discretion about the dinner party debacle. “Will Holly be joining us today?”

  “No,” Erik said. “I told her that we needed to sit and discuss musical arrangements as a foursome. Just us guys.”

  “It’s been a while since we’ve done that,” Dane said, his eyes pointed at the white ceiling.

  “We can look after our own careers,” Claudio said. “We aren’t exactly boys.”

  “Of course you say that, you’re the oldest,” Erik joked.

  “By one year!”

  “Some days,” Dane sighed, “the idea of turning 40 scares me.”

  “Why?” Claudio asked. “I’ve passed 40, and so has Henri. Erik’s not far behind us. It’s not that hard.”

  “I thought that, by 40, I would have my shit together.”

  Henri chuckled. “No one has got life sorted. Ever. Everyone still feels 18 on the inside, whether they’re 28, 48 or 68. We just have to pretend we have our lives together.”

  “You’re married. So is Erik. And you’re…” Dane turned to Claudio but stopped.

  “I’m getting a divorce, you can say it,” Claudio finished for him, and leant back in his seat. “Tease if you must.”

  “Tease?” Erik squinted. “Dude, we teased you about marrying Veena. Leaving her seems almost normal.”

  “And besides…” Henri started but paused.

  “But what?”

  “Nothing.”

  Dane snorted. “I know what he was going to say. He was about to comment on you and Canna.”

  Henri cleared his throat. “Maybe.”

  Erik nodded. “Canna is white-hot and troublesome as hell. She is perfect for Claudio. It makes sense Claudio would leave peroxide-Barbie Veena. There, it’s out there. Sorry, Dane.”

  Dane shrugged. “As the saying goes, ‘if you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen’. Canna burned me a little too much.”

  “Canna doesn’t burn me.” Claudio avoided eye contact with everyone, but he knew all the eyes in the room were on him.

  “Is that so?” Erik probed him. “Tell us more. Is it weird sleeping with the ex-lover of one of your best friends?”

  “Yeah, what’s that like?” Henri asked.

  “Guys, that’s enough,” Dane said. “Canna is not just any girl. Don’t speak about Canna as if she’s a throwaway whore. She was my partner, and now she is Claudio’s. It’s what she wants. Let it be.”

  “Thanks,” Claudio mumbled.

  Dane glanced at his watch. “Shit! I have to go.”

  “Go? We’ve just started,” Henri moaned.

  “I have a lunch meeting. Important things must be done.” Dane stood up and grabbed his satchel.

  “Are you going to share your plans?” Erik said as he watched Dane fumble with the long black strap of his bag.

  “Nope. Let’s just say it’s business and pleasure.”

  “Don’t let Rebecca hear you say that,” Henri smiled.

  “Rebecca is back in town tomorrow, so I need to get this done today. Don’t worry, it’s not that exciting.” Dane looked at Claudio and held his gaze.

  “What?” Claudio asked.

  Dane grinned. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Please excuse me, ladies. I have a date.”

  ~~~

  Canna was already at the restaurant when Dane arrived. He made no effort with his appearance, just jeans and a jacket. Canna looked gorgeous. Her trim legs wore her ever-present knee-high boots and her leather coat was so tight around her curves. He watched her stare out the window at the light rain that fell onto a garden behind the restaurant. He couldn’t stop his heart from pounding.

  “Hey,” Canna said with a bright smile when he approached the table. “Lovely London day, I see.”

  “That’s London for you,” Dane replied and kissed her cheeks. “What we lack in good weather, we make up for in fine British accents.”

  “You have a sexy British accent, but some people sound awful.”

  “It’s a matter of taste.” Dane sat his tall frame on the plush chair and smiled. “It’s been a long time since we went to a restaurant.”

  “Yeah, we didn’t do that very much, did we?” Canna mused. “I just ordered wine. Let’s make this a liquid lunch.”

  “I trust your choice.”

  “You trust me? That’s new.”

  Dane laughed. “I trust you with matters of food and wine. Your good judgment doesn’t extend to all areas.”

  “I can accept that. But, if we are here so I can sign your insurance forms for the diamond ring, we may as well have something sweet and tasty as well.”

  “It’s not every day that you sign paperwork for insurance because the engagement ring you gave to a woman got tossed in the sea.”

  “No.” Canna reached out and took Dane’s hand. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Not hating me.”

  “I can’t hate you, Canna. I tried, and made a good effort. But you have this s
neaky way of making people agree to whatever you say. Besides, hate wouldn’t do either of us any good.”

  “Still, you have been very good about everything.”

  Dane took a long pause. “I want you to be okay. Looking back, I contributed to you being as ill as you were.”

  “I did this to myself. To be honest, you still don’t know all the truth about me.”

  “I can’t handle any more truth, Canna.”

  Canna withdrew her hand and folded her arms. “I’m going back to Milan tomorrow anyway.”

  “Should we just sign the papers and get drunk?”

  “Ah, that’s the English gentleman that I know and love.”

  The conversation seemed so much easier once the alcohol arrived. Dane sat back with the fabulous wine. How many glasses did he drink? Too many. He chatted with Canna, about her work, her sailing, her crazy jokes and stories. Dane told her all about his sister’s impending same-sex marriage in Finland, much to his parents’ horror. He had plenty to share about his new post-Canna life. After a few bottles of wine and various items off the menu, Canna signed the paperwork. The room had become hazy around Dane.

  “Sorry I drunk-dialled you last week,” he smiled.

  “When I was in Malta? That was nothing.”

  “Does Claudio know that I rang you?’

  “Yes, but he doesn’t know what we spoke about.”

  “Did he mind me calling?”

  “No,” she lied.

  “He minded when you rode me yesterday.”

  “That was weird… in his eyes. To me, it was totally normal behaviour.”

  “You’re so weird, Canna.”

  “I know.”

  “Why are the ends of your hair blonde?” Dane leaned over the table and wrapped a messy curl around his finger.

  “It’s just for fun. In Italy I was a blonde, and when I went natural again everyone thought I was showing my mourning over Giuseppe’s death. Fuck off! I just want to be black now that I don’t have a husband to tell me what you do with my hair. I put a little blonde in it, so people would stop asking questions. I like it.”

  “Giuseppe’s dead… it must be a relief.”

  “You have no idea. Giuseppe can’t hurt me, or you… or anyone now.”

  “What about you… you don’t, you know… hurt yourself anymore?”

  “You mean the razorblade fun?”

  “Or the knives, scratching, hair pulling...”

  “No, I don’t do that anymore.”

  “Pills?”

  “I’m 123 days clean, I swear. Not a single headache tablet has passed my lips, let alone morphine. I know I’ve lied about this to you before, but this time it’s the God-honest truth.”

  “You don’t believe in God.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you still lying about being a smoker?”

  Canna smirked. “I’m trying to quit.”

  Dane frowned. “Should you have been drinking?”

  “I’m not an alcoholic.”

  “You have an addictive personality.”

  “That’s all in the past now. Fine wine with a handsome gentleman won’t hurt me.”

  Dane couldn’t help but grin. “I miss you, Canna.”

  “I bet you don’t miss all my crap.”

  “Well, no.”

  “And you have Rebecca, who loves you.”

  “Rebecca is lovely.” Dane nodded, with his gaze on the white tablecloth.

  “Do you miss her?”

  “Not as much as I should miss her.” He watched Canna raise her eyebrows. “It’s not love if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “No?”

  “No. Perhaps one day, but not now. A man can only love so many women at a time.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I played with fire with you, and I got burned!”

  “I broke you.”

  “Yeah. I’m okay, but still, I rebounded out of love with you and into Rebecca.”

  “I thought you are serious with Rebecca, not a rebound fling.”

  “Well, we’re seeing each other. We’re semi-serious. I haven’t asked her to move in, or anything like that. We’re casual. Exclusive but slow.”

  “There is nothing wrong with slow.”

  “I guess.”

  “That’s not exactly romantic. Dane, you don’t sound like yourself. You usually jump into everything at a cracking pace.”

  Dane shrugged and looked up. “I can’t love another woman… yet. When I think of that night, in Milan… all the sex…”

  “Wow, okay, that’s enough.” Canna up straight in her seat and blinked her dry eyes are few times. “We had a lot of sex, in a lot of cities…”

  “And it was hot,” Dane interrupted.

  “Well… yeah… but that’s in the past.”

  “Recent past.”

  “I’m seeing someone else. I’m in love with Claudio. I don’t know how to make that fact any clearer.”

  “I’m aware, and like I said, I’m happy for you. I’m glad you’re better. I’m just…”

  “Needed back at work?”

  “No, they’re finished.”

  “So Claudio won’t be at work? Fuck!”

  “What, will you get into trouble? I told the guys that I had a lunch date, and Claudio didn’t know I was meeting you. Why didn’t you tell him?”

  “I could tell him later…” But now I’m half-drunk, and he will be furious at me for drinking. “Dane, stop shit-stirring.”

  “Is that what I’m doing?”

  “Yes.” Canna stood up and scooped her expensive handbag off the back of her chair. “You and I shouldn’t drink together.”

  Dane exhaled and nodded. “Sorry. Is it too late for sorry?”

  “No, it’s not. I want us to be friends. I want Virtuosi to work harmoniously between you and Claudio. I don’t want awkwardness.”

  “Canna, I miss you.”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I bought the Taylor’s townhouse. It’s a gift for Claudio’s birthday. Did he tell you? It’s for him and his son. Maybe that shows how serious I am with Claudio.”

  “You’re not moving in with him?”

  “The commute is a bit far from Milan.”

  Dane stood up. “You can’t commit to him.”

  “That’s not your business!”

  “Claudio is having a baby with another woman. Why are you putting up with that?”

  Canna scoffed. “Okay, we’re done.” She spun around and headed to the door of the restaurant to pay.

  “It will all end in tears,” Dane yelled over the top of everyone in the place, who looked in his direction.

  Canna stood across the room and handed her credit card to the bartender. “It will,” she yelled back. “But they will be your tears if you’re not careful.” She saw Dane come in her direction, but her credit card got handed back in time for her to leave the place at high speed.

  Dane went after Canna, but she got into a taxi before he could reach her. He stood in the light drizzle and watched her car pull away from the curb. He wondered if she would tell Claudio that she spent the afternoon at the restaurant. If she didn’t, it would mean he already had the upper hand over his friend. It was time that Claudio learned what it felt like to lose the girl he loved.

  CHAPTER 10

  LONDON

  Claudio carried the last boxes of belongings through the front door of his new home. He smiled the moment he stepped inside; he could smell Canna’s perfume. He had fallen in love with Canna inside these four walls; now it was his home. And Canna’s home. Both of them. Together.

  He glanced down at the large box at his feet. A man’s life amounted to little when packed up. Veena had kept the house when they split because she had paid for most of it, and all the furniture belonged to her. Everything Claudio owned fitted in a series of boxes. But now, he was home. He wondered if Canna would let him carry her over the threshold.

  No need; Canna was already home. Claudio left his box in
the living room and went through into the kitchen. There sat Canna, with her head in the dishwasher. “Blinky, have you broken it already?” he asked.

  Canna backed out of the machine and slumped on the white tiles. She tossed a screwdriver down on the floor and wiped her wet hands on her pink t-shirt. “It had a leak, and I’m fixing it.”

  “You fix dishwashers?”

  “One of my many talents. Where have you been?”

  “I went around to Veena’s place to collect the last few things.”

  “Was she there?”

  “No. You should see the nursery she has built…” Claudio stopped mid-sentence. “Have you been drinking?”

  “What?”

  “I don’t care what it was, but I want to know if you’ve been drinking.”

  Canna straightened out her legs and stood up. “I guess you have already figured it out, so why bother asking?”

  Claudio sighed and shut his eyes. “I can’t take my eyes off you for a second.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter, or a stalker. Don’t be an asshole. I had some wine with lunch.”

  “That was hours ago, and you still stink of alcohol. It must have been a real binge.”

  “Wine makes things easier.”

  “If it’s so innocent, will you tell your therapist about all the alcohol you’ve had in the last week or so?”

  “Perhaps I should.” Canna stood up straight while she defended herself. “If he says it’s okay, maybe then you could shut up.”

  “I don’t care what Dr. Riberi says. We shouldn’t have alcohol around the house, or anywhere else. Where have you been?”

  “Why?”

  “Damn it, Blinky. I’m trying to help you.”

  “I went out for lunch with Dane.”

  Claudio’s face folded into itself with an angry frown. “Why the hell do you need to see Dane for lunch?”

  “For food and drink, obviously.”

  “Dane left work early because he said that he had a date.”

  “Then he was just joking.”

  That bastard lied right to his face. “I feel like a fool now.”

  “Why?”

  “Both of you are lying to me.”

  “What does it matter?” Canna implored. “I had to sign insurance papers for Dane. We met, I signed, we chatted and then I left. I came home to find a puddle of water on the kitchen floor and decided, in an effort to help YOU, to fix the dishwasher.”