Rob felt that everyone seemed to abandon him, perhaps due to his need for solitude and desire for privacy. He had only three relationships to speak of during his life, and all three had failed miserably.
The first had been to the girl at school whom everyone had assumed would be the first amongst them to fall pregnant. His relationship with Andrea Mitchell, whose blue eyes, blonde hair, endless legs and ample display of cleavage had bewitched every boy in the school lasted only three months. It ended when she ditched him in favour of one of the school’s married teachers, who promptly got her pregnant and was summarily sacked: rumour had it they now lived in matrimonial disharmony somewhere in Sussex.
The second was with Andrea’s brother, who had consoled Rob the only way he knew how. It had felt good at the time, but Rob quickly realised he was not ready for a relationship with another boy, and so left poor Andrew in tears.
The third had been with a young woman named Virginia Saunders. She had been one of Rob’s few friends throughout his early schooldays, until her parents moved out of the area, only to return a decade later when the pair were reunited at College.
They renewed their friendship immediately, but were both cautious of allowing anything further to develop for fear of ruining the friendship. The attraction was too strong, and after succumbing to their pent up desires, they moved in to a cramped flat in Brighton, miles from Rob’s family home, glad to be free from Maureen Tyler’s maternal disapproval.
Rob’s debut novel was published during their five years together, adding to their happiness, but then without warning Virginia upped sticks and disappeared, leaving just a very short inconsequential note that explained nothing.
Darling Rob, I am so sorry sweetie. Ginny.
Only with the help of alcohol could Rob quell the desolation he felt, and because it helped numb the pain, he drank in ever larger quantities until he realised he was in danger of turning into his father. His alcohol fuelled mood swings certainly did not help make him any more friends, and those drunken days produced his darkest works.
The only two people who tried to help him through that time of despair were his mother, who though delighted to see the back of Virginia was also devastated at the effect it had upon her son, and Jonathan Carson, who had himself been through his own personal trauma a year earlier following his own collapsed relationship.
Realising he had a kindred spirit in Jonathan, Rob began to open up about his feelings and found himself falling in love with his agent, much to his discomfort. It felt right, and yet at the same time he knew it was not, so he shut himself away from the feelings, kicked his dependency on alcohol and threw himself into his writing.
Jonathan was the one person who had not abandoned him, and Rob felt that was because he had never made his feelings known to the other man – and that was how he wanted it to remain: their friendship had survived his unrequited love for that single reason alone.
Had it not been for Jonathan, Rob felt he would have succumbed to the comforting embrace of alcohol once more after his mother’s death, but his agent had been there for him morning, noon and night, and they had finally shared a single night of passion together. Neither one had mentioned that night since, but it occasionally occurred to Rob that perhaps Jonathan knew how he felt, and indeed felt the same way.
But was it worth the risk of ruining their close friendship to find out? Would he be terribly upset and disappointed if Jonathan dealt the crushing blow that the night of passion had merely been to comfort Rob, nothing more?
No. It was not worth the risk, and so Rob maintained his silence.
The unrequited love for two of the characters will remain so after the beast savagely slaughters one of them, wrote Rob as his thoughts dovetailed into the plot that suddenly started pouring from his mind.
The telephone rang shrilly from downstairs, interrupting his flow, and Rob cursed. At one point in his career he would have ignored the telephone if it rang whilst he was writing, but some inner sense told him he should answer it. He was uncertain why he should feel thus, but the call was important he felt, and so he pushed the chair away from his desk and ran from the room, but the ringing ceased as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
Cursing and laughing at the absurdity of both his thoughts and the situation, Rob started climbing the stairs again, and the telephone began ringing once more. He ran to the kitchen and yanked the receiver from its cradle before it could stop.
‘Hello?’ he said breathlessly.
The line went dead with a click, and growling his annoyance, Rob slammed the receiver down again and started from the kitchen.
His annoyance increased as the telephone began ringing again, and he scooped it up. ‘Hello, who is this please?’
His question met with silence.
‘Hello? Is there something I can help you with?’
More silence.
‘Look, who is this?’
The line went dead again, and muttering an obscenity beneath his breath, Rob slammed the telephone down and left the kitchen, ignoring the sound as it once more started ringing.
The ringing continued until Rob reached his office, and when it did not stop anger got the better of him and he ran full pelt down the stairs.
Snatching the receiver from its cradle, he did not even get the chance to utter a word.
‘If you value your life, Rob Tyler, stay away from the Devill’s Tor!’
The throaty gravel-laced voice that came down the line was astonishingly clear amid all the crackling static, and for a moment Rob thought he recognised the threatening voice. He could not be certain, but there was definitely something in the resonant burr that struck a chord somewhere within his subconscious, reawakening long dormant memories of a dim and distant past.
But the recognition was tenuous at best, virtually non-existent really, and Rob knew he was mistaken.
‘Who the hell is this?’ he demanded, unsure whether the message was meant as a threat or a warning. ‘What do you mean by that?’
The caller hung up, and Rob slammed the telephone down again furiously. Crank calls were nothing new; past experience of weirdos and obscene callers had caused him to change his telephone number several times in the past decade. With the last change of number, he had also gone ex-directory, which could only mean the caller had been either someone he knew, or someone known to one of his few remaining friends.
Devil’s Tor.
The words stayed with him. What or where was it? Was it a place? If he was to take the call seriously – which he thought he perhaps should – and he valued his life – which he certainly did – then he prayed he would never find out.
Devil’s Tor.
Nestled uncomfortably in his subconscious thoughts, it seemed as though the words tried desperately to awaken something dark within the depths of his mind.
Let it go, he warned himself, but he could not.
Devil’s Tor.
The words refused to go away, and Rob knew he would not be satisfied until he knew the significance of the words, even if it was his undoing – hoping it would not be, all the same.
It was a mystery that would annoy Rob ceaselessly until he solved the deepening riddle of whose was the voice and what it meant.
The telephone rang again, its sudden discordant sound causing Rob to jump. He whirled around, staring at the machine, prepared to snatch it up, and he paused. Suddenly the telephone had taken on a sinister new persona. Insanely, Rob believed it might bite him, kill him even should he answer it, so he let it ring and ring… and ring…
The caller was certainly persistent. Rallying his courage, Rob cautiously picked up the receiver, holding it some distance from his ear as he spoke, his voice little more than a whisper. ‘Hello?’
‘Rob? Rob Tyler?’
The gentle female voice came as something of a relief to Rob. ‘Yes?’
‘Hello, Rob, don’t you recognise my voice, sweetie?’
A cloud passed across Rob’s mind, and for a mom
ent, he thought he would collapse from shock. He clutched the doorframe to steady himself. The voice was indeed familiar, a real blast from the past. He should have known the distinctive seductive tones immediately, but the use of the word sweetie brought recognition to the forefront of his mind.
‘Ginny?’ he gasped.
There was laughter on the other end of the line. ‘You do still remember me then? I don’t know whether to be honoured or worried.’
‘The latter,’ snapped Rob, ‘after what you did all those years ago!’
A degree of remorse crept into the female voice. ‘Rob, I’m so sorry for the way I treated you. My leaving wasn’t as a result of anything you said or did.’
‘Then why did you leave me?’ The remorse in the voice of Virginia Saunders may or may not have been genuine, but the potent fury in Rob’s was very real.
Had she appeared on his doorstep instead of telephoning, there was no telling how he might have reacted. He had no real desire to talk to her or listen to whatever lies she had to say, but at the same time, the reason for her sudden disappearance was an unanswered question that plagued him still… and he had to know the answer.
‘I had my reasons, Rob, believe me. I couldn’t tell you then, and I’m not sure I should now.’
‘Why have you called then, for the first time in… what is it… thirteen years?’
He heard Virginia sigh deeply. ‘A troubled conscience,’ she muttered indistinctly, ‘or a lingering desire for you that has been reignited, perhaps. I don’t know. I just know that you must hate me, and I don’t want that. When you hear my reasons for walking out on you, I know you’ll understand.’
Rob snorted contemptuously. ‘You presume to know a great deal, Ginny, but you cannot possibly begin to know how much you hurt me! I’ve found happiness at last in my life, and I’ve no desire to be hurt by you again. I don’t want to hear your excuses!’
‘I was sorry to hear of your mother’s death, Rob,’ Virginia continued, as though he had said nothing. ‘I know how much you loved her. I loved her too.’
Rob frowned. Something was awry with this conversation. The last time he and Virginia had seen each other she had most certainly not loved his mother: there had been a mutual loathing between the two women in his life back then.
‘How did you get this number, Ginny?’ he demanded, keeping his voice cool and detached.
‘I’ve been wanting to contact you ever since learning of your mother’s death, and eventually I contacted your agent, and after I told him who I was, he gave me your number.’
Rob found it inconceivable that Jonathan would have given his telephone number to the woman who had so nearly destroyed him emotionally. She was obviously lying, but Rob could not understand what motive she might have.
‘I see,’ he said at length. ‘And how is Jonathan? I’ve not spoken to him for some months.’
‘He’s fine, I guess. We didn’t speak for long. Rob, listen, I really need to tell you my side of things. I need you to understand why I left you, what I’ve been doing since then. I’m sure your curiosity must be burning.’
‘Well that’s where you’re wrong!’ Rob barked suddenly, startling even himself with the ferocity of his tone. ‘I have no interest whatever in your life. I have no time for your lies, and I certainly have no desire to meet with you. You are a part of my past, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. Good day, Ginny. Please don’t bother trying to contact me again.’
He ended the call quickly before he had the chance to change his mind. He knew he would eventually agree to meet her if he thought about it for too long, and he did not need such complication in his life. Inside, he was a turmoil of emotions: passion, anger, love, fury, curiosity.
Damn it, the woman had a hell of a nerve, calling unexpectedly after thirteen years. What was she playing at? What did she want? Had she really expected him to leap at the chance to hear her lies, to see her again?
A weaker man would have; he would too, had he not become a stronger person after her treatment of him. She had herself to thank for that!
But why had she lied about loving his mother, and most likely about having contacted Jonathan? There was no doubt at all in Rob’s mind that his agent would not have given his number to Virginia, and that he would actually have called to let him know she was trying to contact him.
How then had she obtained his number?
Silently, he cursed himself for his foolish male pride, which had made him hang up in a short-tempered fit of pique without giving Virginia the opportunity to explain, or let him know how he might get in touch with her.
He decided that if there was any truth at all in what she said, then Jonathan might know how to contact her, though he still could not believe his agent would betray him in such a way.
After all, Jonathan had been betrayed by an old love at the same time of Virginia’s betrayal; he had seen Rob’s descent into alcoholism, and had helped bring him back.
No.
Without a shred of doubt, Rob knew Jonathan had not given the telephone number to Virginia, so not only was she lying, but it also added to the mystery: two telephone calls for him in one day from people who should not have the number meant that someone was giving it out. Jonathan might not be the culprit, but he might have some clue as to who it could be.
Acting on blind instinct rather than rational thought, Rob grabbed his car keys and minutes later his racing-green MGB roadster snaked through the rush hour traffic of Central London, heading west from his Bethnal Green house towards Mayfair, where Jonathan Carson’s penthouse apartment commanded spectacular views of Hyde Park.
Parking in the underground private car park, Rob made his way up to the reception hall and smiled at the young woman behind the desk. ‘Hi, Lilly.’
Immaculately made up, coiffed and dressed as ever, she looked up at him, a sour expression fixed as usual on her otherwise delicately featured face. The dark haired girl with a face that could drive a man to murder his rival, and a disposition that could drive a man to murder her, disapproved of Rob, though he was unsure whether it was to do with him being a horror writer, being gay, or some other reason.
She remained silent as Rob leaned on her reception desk, a smile fixed firmly upon his own lips. ‘As charming as ever, Lilly!’ He blew her a kiss. ‘You know how much your charm turns me on!’
Lilly’s face cracked into a decidedly unwilling smile, causing Rob to laugh. ‘That’s much better. Is Jonathan in?’
Lilly’s mouth drew back into a thin line, and still without uttering a word to Rob, she picked up the intercom and buzzed up to Jonathan’s apartment. ‘Mr Carson,’ she muttered dourly into the mouthpiece, ‘Rob Tyler is here to see you.’ There was a pause before she continued. ‘As you wish.’ She hung up and faced Rob. ‘Mr Carson says you are to go up.’
Rob grinned. ‘Thanks, Lilly. Listen, I know you have the hots for Jonathan, and that you’re jealous of me, but you have no reason to be. We’re just friends, and he is my agent, nothing more.’ He sighed wistfully. ‘Even though I’d like it to be more.’ Realising he had spoken the thought aloud, he cleared his throat and fixed Lilly with his best reproving stare. ‘However, that’s really no reason to hate me.’
Something twinkled in Lilly’s eye, and she looked directly at Rob. ‘Is that why you think I’m hostile towards you, because I am in love with Mr Carson?’
Rob stepped back slightly, his smile fading. ‘Isn’t that the reason?’
Lilly’s smile was genuinely triumphant. ‘No, it’s not. You haven’t a clue why I despise you, have you?’
Rob shook his head. ‘Are you going to enlighten me?’
‘No!’ Lilly’s smile vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, and her face was as cold and inscrutable as ever. ‘You’d better go up. Mr Carson is waiting for you.’
Something in her tone disturbed Rob, and he was only too eager to ride the lift up to the penthouse apartment.
As the lift doors closed, Lily picked up the external
telephone, dialled a memorized number, and waited for the call to be answered.
‘He has just gone up to Jonathan Carson’s apartment! Yes, I know what must be done.’
* * *
Upon reaching the top floor, Rob found Jonathan waiting for him in the doorway at the end of the foyer, and as he approached his handsome agent, his heart somersaulted in his chest.
He smiled as Jonathan reached out to embrace him. ‘Hi, Jonno, how’ve you been?’ He returned the embrace, surprised at its warmth. Though Jonathan had always been a close friend, he seldom displayed such affection, just the way Rob liked it. However, this hug was filled with an emotion Rob could appreciate, unexpected though it was.
‘I’m pretty good, I guess,’ replied Jonathan, and even though his face was hidden, Rob could hear the smile in his voice.
Rob pushed him away a little reluctantly. ‘What’s got into you, Jonno?’ he chuckled. ‘Anyone would think you were in love with me.’ Jonathan’s sudden crestfallen expression erased Rob’s smile. ‘Oh,’ he muttered with a little choking sound. He stared hard into Jonathan’s brown eyes, pointedly avoiding any further contact. ‘Is that right? Do you love me, as I have always loved you?’
Slowly, Jonathan’s smile returned, the relief in his voice palpable. ‘Rob, you have no idea how pleased I am to hear you say that.’ He reached out and embraced Rob once more. ‘I have wanted to let you know for so long, but was afraid of rejection.’
‘Even after our night of passion six weeks ago?’
This time Jonathan pushed Rob away. ‘I didn’t want to push it back then. Your mother had just died, and you were vulnerable. Besides, you never mentioned that night afterwards, so I just assumed we were merely comforting each other.’
Rob sighed. ‘Seems like we should have spoken about how we were feeling back then. Still, it doesn’t matter now it’s out in the open.’
‘Is that why you came here, to tell me you love me?’ asked Jonathan, running a hand through his disarray of brown curls.
The Five Tors Page 2
