Falling to Earth

by Deirdre Palmer

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Do you?’ Gray took his eyes off the road for a second to throw Juliet a puzzled look.

  ‘I mean I know she’s been following you about. At least I knew someone was.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yes, oh indeed.’

  Gray sighed heavily. ‘Juliet, please don’t. I know I should have told you but I didn’t know how to without it sounding, oh, I don’t know, as if I was making it up or something. The truth is I could hardly believe it was happening myself.’

  Juliet realised her hands were shaking. She thrust them into the pockets of her jeans. Gray didn’t trust her. He’d virtually said as much. If there was no trust, how could there be love?

  She couldn’t talk about this now – there were no words to express the muddle of emotions that were swelling inside her. Gray glanced at her. He was waiting for her response. Well, he’d have to go on waiting.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Gray, please, leave it. I can’t have this conversation.’

  ‘But we can’t carry on to Dorset and pretend nothing’s happened.’

  ‘That’s exactly what we have to do.’

  Gray gave a little nod and turned his attention to changing lanes.

  ‘And how’s my girl, then? Let me look at you. Mm, beautiful as ever, I’d say.’ Gray’s father made his customary opening remark, pretending to scrutinize Juliet from all angles.

  Her smile came with surprising ease. She kissed Martin’s cheek and gave Lizzie a hug. Gray looked stiff and uncomfortable, as well he might, but if his parents noticed anything amiss they didn’t comment. Instead, they dealt cheerfully with bottles and glasses and crisps, and Juliet found herself on the sofa beside Gray, allowing herself to be carried along with the flow of chatter and exchange of news and trying not to think ahead. If she took things a step at a time, she’d be able to hold it together.

  Left alone for a minute when Martin went to find a book he wanted to show them and Lizzie was attending to lunch, Gray reached for Juliet’s hand. She flinched - she couldn’t help it. He looked stricken.

  ‘Juliet, are you all right?’

  ‘Of course I’m bloody not!’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you everything you want to know when we get a moment.’

  ‘Yes, well it’s a pity you didn’t think to do that a hell of a lot sooner.’

  The slip-slap of leather sandals on wood signalled Martin’s return. ‘Look, Graeme, isn’t this marvellous? I got it at the vicarage fete.’ He held out a slim volume bound in maroon leather. Juliet noticed, for the first time, the faint hint of tremor in his hand. ‘It’s the Just-So stories, not a first edition but a very early one, and in such wonderful condition. Look at the illustrations! You’ll like those, Juliet.’

  Gray dredged up a smile, took the book and opened it, nodding. ‘It’s a find all right.’ He passed it to Juliet. ‘Beautiful,’ she said, nodding.

  ‘A find?’ Lizzie reappeared with a dish of olives. ‘Nearly forgot these. I’d say it was more of a steal! Tell them how much you paid for that book, Martin.’

  ‘One pound fifty.’ Martin’s expression was triumphant.

  As always, Juliet was struck by the similarity between father and son – even more so today, she thought, looking at Gray. Tension in a face was very ageing.

  ‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’ Lizzie sat down and looked round at them all, violet-blue eyes twinkling mischievously. ‘You should have offered more for it, as well you know. That fete was in aid of the church bells.’

  ‘She only asked me for thirty bob. It’s hardly my fault if people don’t know the value of the goods they sell. Anyway, my Sunday mornings are a lot quieter since the damn bells packed up.’

  Juliet laughed. She stood up and held out a hand towards Martin. ‘Come and show me the garden. Are there sweet peas again? I hope so – the scent’s so gorgeous.’

  She could feel Gray’s eyes on her as she linked arms with his father. It would be obvious he wasn’t invited to join them, that he had no choice but to stay with his mother and sit it out without the benefit of the group chatter to hide behind. She knew he was suffering too but right now, the more space there was between them, the better.

  Over lunch – Lizzie’s special crab salad that normally Juliet adored but which today tasted like damp hamster bedding – Lizzie recounted stories of the latest trips she’d organised – her ‘elderly outings’ as she called them – which, thankfully, demanded little of Juliet other than to laugh in the right places and throw in the odd apt remark. Gray couldn’t even manage that, apparently. Head bowed, he ate in silence, stabbing viciously at the food on his plate as if it was about to jump up and attack him.

  ‘Honestly, those Partridge women must live in a parallel universe,’ Lizzie was saying about a couple of spinster sisters who’d been on the day trip to London. ‘Refused point blank to let the security man search their bags! Don’t they ever read the papers or watch the news? I could just see the headlines in the local rag – Beaminster pair cause terror alert on London Eye... Graeme, dear, that crab is already dead.’

  ‘What?’ Gray looked up. Lizzie looked quizzically at him, then shot a covert glance at Martin. Juliet held her breath until the moment passed.

  Later that evening, she stood at the tall window of their bedroom, gazing across the fields at the inky blotches of woodland on the skyline and feeling unutterably depressed. Could she really get through the rest of the weekend playing happy families, pretending nothing had happened? Gray was probably thinking the same.

  Then again, how would she know what he was thinking? She hadn’t done too well in that department so far, had she? If, as he claimed, that hand-wringing wretch of a woman had been following him – or stalking him, she supposed was the term – then how had it begun? There was usually a trigger in these situations, wasn’t there? Beneath the unfortunate Tasmin’s ravaged exterior there was, or had been, a rather attractive woman, Juliet acknowledged now, a woman with great skin, a svelte figure and screen-star cheekbones, and if she’d thrown herself at Gray and caught him in a weak moment, then...

  Juliet shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself as if it was midwinter. Somewhere in the landscape an owl called, a lonely sound.

  If Gray wanted to leave her, she would let him go, she’d always told herself that. Her pride wouldn’t let her do otherwise. Not that he would leave her for Tasmin – she was almost certain of that - but this sordid little episode might prove to be the catalyst that brought Gray to realise their relationship had run its course.

  But if that was true, what about Spain? Why take her on holiday if he didn’t want to be with her? Oh, it was all so confusing and the more she tried to unravel the threads of her thoughts, the tighter they wove themselves together and refused to be unknotted.

  She peered at her watch in the half-light. Was it really only hours since the eventful journey to Dorset? It seemed much longer, yet it was still only Friday evening – a whole day and a half before they could head home. This afternoon the four of them had strolled down to the village and that hadn’t been too bad. She had managed to avoid talking to Gray by sticking like glue to Lizzie - not that she didn’t want to talk to him but she was afraid that whatever she did say would only make matters worse - and then this evening they’d gone to the pub for supper and the buzz of the Friday night crowd had swallowed up any potentially awkward moments.

  The others were downstairs watching a film. She’d watched it with them until she couldn’t stand it any longer and she’d come upstairs. They probably thought she was in the loo. Actually she was past caring what they thought, not because she was being unkind but she simply hadn’t the energy to consider anyone else’s feelings.

  The latch rattled and the door creaked open. Juliet stayed staring out of the window in the semi-darkness but she knew it was Gray. She could feel his uncertain, hovering presence in the room.

  ‘Are you coming do
wn?’ he said, after a moment.

  Juliet turned to face him. ‘I think I might just go to bed. You can tell your parents I’ve got a headache, which I have, as it happens. I’ll use the little bedroom.’

  ‘Don’t do that. Stay in here with me. Please?’

  He sounded so miserable that for a second she was tempted to concur but if they lay together in the same bed, Gray would try to comfort her with cuddles or words and would understandably expect the same in return and she couldn’t do it while her mind was in such turmoil.

  ‘It’s best I don’t. Not tonight.’

  Gray ran a hand through his hair. ‘Well then, I’ll go in the little room.’

  ‘No, I will. I’d rather.’

  ‘Yes, all right. Look, Juliet, I won’t pretend I’m not to blame for what happened, partly anyway, but being angry with me won’t help.’

  ‘I’m not angry. I’m…. I don’t know what I am, what I feel.’ She hesitated. ‘Actually, yes I do. I feel betrayed.’

  Gray sighed. ‘Surely you don’t believe there was anything going on between me and her?’

  ‘Well, she certainly seemed to think there was and she must have had a pretty good reason to follow us all the way from bloody Brighton!’

  Even as the words came out, she knew she wasn’t being truthful or fair, but Gray deserved a hard time after what he’d put her through.

  He snapped on the bedside lamp. The room lit up like a stage set in a bedroom farce. ‘If you’re not going to believe a word I say and we’re just going to argue there’s no point in our having this conversation.’

  ‘Which is precisely why I didn’t want to have it in the first place but you started it, not me.’

  ‘Now you’re being childish.’

  ‘And you’re being bloody patronising!’

  Gray plumped down on the side of the bed and held out a hand. ‘Come and sit down. Let me explain it properly. I deserve that chance, don’t I?’

  ‘Not here. We’ll go out.’ Juliet slung a cardigan round her shoulders and marched across the room and out of the door. If a murder was to be committed – and she certainly felt murderous – it was only fair to Lizzie and Martin that it took place off the premises.

  The television played on as the front door closed behind them, Lizzie and Martin remaining tactfully in-situ. Juliet felt a rush of love for them and then her throat tightened painfully as it occurred to her that she might never see them again after this weekend. She bit her lip hard as she clicked open the gate and stepped out into the lane, Gray following. She couldn’t afford to be sentimental now – she had to remain in control.

  It was properly dark now. The moon was covered by cloud and she couldn’t see a thing. The lane was treacherously uneven underfoot and she didn’t protest when Gray took her hand. As they passed the farmyard and the silent chicken-houses, somewhere across the fields, a cow bellowed. The eerie sound startled her.

  They’d been walking for a few minutes when Gray’s pace slowed, bringing them almost to a standstill, then seemingly he changed his mind and carried on. Juliet let go of his hand. It was lighter here, now they’d passed the woods. She glanced back to the place where Gray had hesitated and a deja-vu moment hit home. Wasn’t that where they’d made love last summer? They’d sneaked out of the house, giggling in the darkness like a couple of teenagers, intent on finding a convenient field, but they hadn’t made it past that spot. He’d pressed her against a tree trunk, their hands eager, running over one another...

  She swallowed. Gray must have remembered too. She glanced at him and caught his expression - sad, confused, lonely. Just like her. Supposing she were to kiss him now, if they were to put their arms around each other, their bodies melting together in the darkness, would the nightmare encounter in the hotel car park cease to exist? Could it be wiped away that easily, barbed-wired off from reality?

  Then Gray spoke. ‘Not much point in going any further.’

  Juliet’s mind backtracked smartly. No, she had to face up to this, they both did. There was a gate by the entrance to a field. She went and stood by it, waiting for Gray to join her.

  ‘If what you’re telling me is true, and I think it probably is,’-‘At last,’ Gray said, raising his eyes - ‘then why on earth didn’t you tell me about it before?’

  ‘Because of how it would sound and how you’d react. I couldn’t be sure…’

  ‘Yes, you already said all that. What I don’t understand is why you couldn’t be sure, why you didn’t feel you could trust me, and that’s what hurts, Gray. That’s what truly hurts.’

  She’d spent ten minutes listening to Gray’s somewhat dubious-sounding explanation of his dealings with his stalker and there were still bits that didn’t make sense.

  ‘I know, and I’m sorry. I do trust you but I was ashamed to have let it get so out of hand and I didn’t want you to think badly of me for it.’

  ‘Gray, you’re a life coach. You’re not God Almighty. You can’t get inside people’s heads and run their lives for them. There’s only so much you can do, then it’s up to them. You’ve said so yourself often enough.’

  ‘But I should have seen it coming. I should have realised she was becoming attached to me and sent her away or passed her on to Al or one of the free-lancers but by the time I realised it was way too late and I was dealing with something far more sinister. Even then, in theory, I knew what to do but somehow I couldn’t do it, so I let her keep booking sessions. I thought that if I didn’t she’d put in an official complaint about me taking her money and doing nothing to help her, and word would have got round and the business would be dead in the water.’

  ‘That’s nonsense.’

  ‘I know, but that was how I justified it to myself at the time. Then, when I did pluck up the courage to tell her it had to stop and I couldn’t work with her any more, it got worse. She started ringing me, leaving messages with the receptionist about ten times a day and waiting for me outside the office when I didn’t respond. Research on stalking shows that the worst thing the victim can do is give the person something to feed on – I knew that but still I kept thinking of the awful things that might happen if I didn’t keep seeing her. God, I’m such a failure.’

  Juliet’s heart gave a squeeze. Gray looked so dejected, so vulnerable it scared her. He’d been carrying that great burden on his own. No wonder he’d been such a grouch, but still the question hung in the night air, unanswered. Why hadn’t he told her? Why hadn’t he asked her to help him, because she could have, couldn’t she? Even if she didn’t know much about these things she could have listened and supported him - and she would have been forewarned. She would have known there was someone out there trying to reach Gray by whatever means. Instead of that, he’d let her take those calls that came in the night and worry what they might mean. How could he have let that happen, especially with Rachel in the house? It wasn’t fair.

  ‘Don’t start that I’m a failure thing. That’s just feeling sorry for yourself.’

  She hadn’t meant to snap, but really, all Gray seemed concerned about was that woman and what he saw as his ineptitude at straightening her out.

  Gray turned away from her and leaned on the gate, shoulders hunched, apparently deep in thought. Against the monochrome landscape, his pallid profile looked stiff and unyielding. Juliet began to experience the beginnings of panic.

  ‘Don’t shut me out.’ She touched his arm.

  ‘I’m not,’ he said, still not looking at her.

  ‘Have you told me everything? Do I know it all now?’

  ‘How d’you mean?’ Gray responded a shade too quickly.

  Oh God, she was right. He was still hiding something. ‘Gray, look me in the eye and tell me you never gave that woman any reason to think you might be interested in her.’

  He turned to her. ‘All right, there was something but if I tell you, promise me you won’t freak out because it means nothing, it meant nothing and it was a pure mistake, nothing more.’

  Juliet
steeled herself, half wishing she hadn’t pushed him. Could she handle the kind of confession she sensed was coming? Possibly not, but it was too late now. ‘I’m not promising anything. Go on.’

  ‘I kissed her – or rather, she kissed me. Once. And that was all.’

  ‘You kissed her? Oh, I don’t believe this!’

  ‘Juliet, please. I told you, it was a mistake.’

  ‘How the hell do you kiss someone by mistake?’

  ‘I told you, she kissed me. I hardly knew what was happening – you don’t know what it was like.’

  Oh, but I do know, Juliet thought, remembering Jonno and how she had so very nearly let him kiss her, but she hadn’t, because from somewhere she had found the strength and presence of mind to resist, so why hadn’t Gray? The point was, she had wanted Jonno to kiss her – her whole body had seemed to be driving her towards it - and yet she’d still managed to stop it, which seemed to indicate that Gray, despite his protestations, must have wanted Tasmin in the same way that she had wanted Jonno, probably even more so.

  As she turned this idea over in her head, Gray reached for her hand, presumably misinterpreting her silence as acceptance. She snatched it away.

  ‘When exactly did this mistake happen, and where?’

  ‘That doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Don’t tell me what matters and what doesn’t,’ Juliet said, through gritted teeth.

  ‘OK, if you must know, it was about a month ago, in Hove Park. We… I used to take her there for some of our sessions. She wasn’t herself that day, not at all.’

  ‘So what was it? A peck on the lips? A full-blown snog or what?’

  ‘Juliet, please…’

  ‘No, go on. I want to know.’

  ‘Neither. It was neither. It was just a kiss.’

  ‘So what happened next? What else did you do?’

  ‘Nothing, of course! Why, what do you think I did? Rip her knickers off and throw her over the park bench? Honestly, Juliet, you’d better start believing me or we’re in deep trouble here.’