by Allan, Gilli
‘You can’t expect me to feel as concerned as you obviously do. I’d have expected a bit of gratitude for doing you a favour … for getting it done so quickly, for nothing … rather than this attitude you’re giving me!’
‘Of course I’m grateful. It’s just, I really can’t understand why on earth you didn’t let me know?’ Dory sighed. ‘Oh, forget it, Malcolm. Give me the result and I’ll get out of your hair. I don’t want to stay the night. If I get a taxi quickly I’ll catch the ten o’clock.’
‘You’ll be lucky!’
‘What is the result?’
‘Dory! We’re handling these tests all day. If I even looked at it, I can’t remember,’ Malcolm said, as he returned down the stairs and made for the office.
Chapter Forty-three - Stefan
He had no idea of the time. The television was on, a film about cops and gangsters in New York, full of shootings and car chases and motherfuckers.
At another time, he and Dom might have sat and watched it together, pulling it to pieces, scoffing, and drinking beer. But Dom had been upstairs in his room for hours. Maybe he was smoking spliffs and painting the new miniatures? Maybe he was sitting at the window, looking out at the night? Stefan doubted he was sleeping peacefully.
The urge to smoke was almost irresistible, but how could he explain the lapse to Dom if he decided to come downstairs? If there was nothing else he could do for the boy, he could be a good example.
Stefan could not have explained the plot of the film. The images flashed and tumbled in front of his eyes. In his mind’s eye he could picture Dory’s face, its bone structure and features, her spiky, ash-blonde hair. He recalled the golden green of her eyes, and her mouth with that deep, straight-edged shadow beneath the lower lip which seemed to underline its fullness. It had been a long time since he’d felt this attracted to anyone. He’d learned to ignore or to smother unwanted physical promptings – unless in extremis, when there were ways of dealing with arousal. But was that all this was?
A noise from outside alerted him, but he immediately dismissed the unlikely possibility that someone was walking around the house in the dark. It was probably a hedgehog snuffling in the undergrowth near the back wall. But then there was an unmistakeable rap on the back door. He hadn’t heard a car arrive, but he often didn’t if he was at the back of the house. And the film was a particularly noisy one. He leapt to his feet, zapped off the TV, and was across the room in a second. In the back hall, he dragged open the door. Even though he saw what he’d hoped to see, it was surreal to find the woman he’d been thinking of standing on his doorstep.
‘Dory!’
‘I’m so glad you’re still up. I let my mobile run down …’ Her voice cracked and failed. He grasped her hands and pulled her inside. They made no further progress before she was in his arms, deep, body-shaking sobs spilling from her.
‘Dory, Dory, what’s the matter? It’s all right. It’s all right.’ He was hugging her and stroking her hair. ‘Hush, hush.’ The words, uttered automatically, bore no relation to his thoughts. ‘No!’ ricocheted back and forth inside his brain. Unable to control the agonised contortions of his face, he repeated, in a choked whisper against her hair. ‘It’s all right. It will be all right.’
‘No, sorry!’ The instant his arms tightened, she began to struggle free, pushing him away, palms flat against his chest. Gulping and shaking her head vehemently, Dory wiped her nose with the back of her hand. ‘You don’t understand.’ Though her voice was husky with emotion, he saw she was attempting to smile. ‘It’s not … It is all right! Dom’s clear. I’m sorry, you must have thought … I couldn’t get the words out.’
Her bottom lip – her soft, full, pouty bottom lip – was trembling. There was an odd sensation, a kind of falling away, inside him.
‘You’re sure?’ he said, then paused, staring at her. He needed time to let the words sink in, to wonder what that sudden landslide of emotion inside him signified. ‘I can hardly believe it. That’s … that’s wonderful news,’ he managed. ‘Thank you. Thank you. I’m so relieved.’ He pulled her back into the hug and they stood there, clasped together. This woman, who he’d suddenly realised was important to him, had brought him the spectacular news that Dom was all right. He released his breath in a stuttering sigh. Slow footfalls came down the back stairs behind them. Stefan sniffed and turned, his arm round Dory’s shoulders. The boy had stopped. Level with the hall light, the Finntroll logo on his chest was illuminated. His face was in shadow.
‘Dom!’ Stefan exclaimed, extending his hand. ‘Dory’s brought some wonderful news. You can stop worrying. The results were clear. You’re OK, all bar the infection.’
True,’ Dory added. ‘And that will clear up quickly now you’re on antibiotics.’
‘Shit!’ Dom said, and let out a breath. ‘Phew! Fuck!’ He continued his descent down the stairs, smiling shakily. He grasped the hand Stefan held out to him and joined the communal hug.
The night seemed unreal and blurry. None of them looked at the time. Eventually, after drinking all the beers from the fridge, Stefan went down to the cellar and found a bottle of champagne.
‘But we can’t drink that.’ Dory smoothed the thick coating of dust from the label. ‘It’s vintage. I didn’t even know you had a cellar.’
‘If we can’t drink vintage champagne on an occasion like this, when can we?’ He turned the cold, gritty bottle in his hands, slowly easing out the cork. He smothered the soft pop in a tea cloth. ‘As for the cellar … I don’t actually recall telling the estate agent about it. Does it add value … make the house more desirable, do you think?’ Stefan gathered the beer glasses. Dom’s was unused; he’d been drinking his beer straight from the bottle.
‘You really are a hopeless salesman.’ Dory shook her head at him as the champagne mixed frothily with the beer dregs in their glasses. ‘And you do realise that’s sacrilege?’
‘And do you realise,’ he said, smiling. ‘That I don’t give a flying fuck?’
Dory laughed. ‘Is there much in the cellar?’
‘You’re checking there’s another where this came from?’ he queried, lifting an eyebrow. ‘My father built up a bit of a collection. To be honest, I forget it’s there. Even if I do remember, I’ve no idea if it’s any good. But that Rioja I brought over for supper the other evening was all right, wasn’t it?’
‘That’s where you went,’ Dom said. ‘I wondered.’
‘Didn’t I say?’ Stefan raised his glass. ‘Cheers.’ His toast was echoed and they all sipped the champagne.
‘Seems all right,’ he said. Dory nodded enthusiastically. ‘I’ll show you the cellar if you’re interested. The door to it is outside and I’ve a few sculptures … mainly casts, one or two resin pieces … and some moulds. I stored them amongst the vaults when I was clearing out the barn. Makes it seem a bit weird and gothic.’
‘Cool,’ Dom said, yawning. Whether he too was unaware there was a cellar, or had simply forgotten about it, was unclear. Just now, he seemed fairly unaware of anything; the large glass of champagne had been glugged down as swiftly as if it were pop. He wandered off, weaving slightly as he progressed in the direction of the kitchen. They heard the fridge door open and close, and then he was back, leaning against the doorjamb with a can of Coke in his hand. Giving him the champagne had almost certainly been a waste, Stefan reflected, but tonight, who cared?
‘You look out of it,’ he said.
‘Yeah. I’m totally wasted.’ Dom yawned again. ‘Need to crash.’
‘Good thinking,’ Stefan agreed. ‘You’ve got your college interview tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow!’ He grabbed at the door handle, as if to hold himself upright. ‘Fuck! No! It’s on Wednesday, isn’t it?’
Stefan checked his watch. ‘Which is tomorrow. It’s gone two, Tuesday morning. Print making in seven or so hours. I can’t miss another lesson.’
‘Shit! I didn’t realise it was so … I’m off. Give me a call when you get up.’ The
n with a nod and a tipsy smile he nodded at Dory. ‘Thanks for everything. G’night.’
‘You’re very welcome. Sleep tight.’
Left alone, Stefan looked at Dory. ‘He’s only a scrap of a thing. Not surprising the alcohol goes to his head. I’m so glad you came straight here.’
The beer glass still in her hand, Dory flopped down onto the sofa. She returned his look and they raised their glasses to one another.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t call you. But my phone …’ She shook her head. ‘It was the final straw of a horrible, horrible, shitty day!’
‘But it’s ended well. And it started off all right, didn’t it? We got Dom to the clinic without mishap, and you …?’
‘Had no trouble persuading Shaskia to take a second blood sample for me. That bit went fine, and I should have had enough time to easily catch the train, but I hadn’t bargained on the difficulty of parking. The journey was quite pleasant once my heart rate slowed down. But when I got to Malcolm’s!’ Dory shook her head at the memory. ‘You’d think I’d have some visceral memory of attachment to the guy, wouldn’t you? Nothing. I actively dislike him. And her …!’ She amused him by putting her finger in her mouth and mimicking retching. ‘They were busy so I went out. Not that I’d have wanted to hang around with them. The rest of the day was spent walking round London. I felt so battered by it all. Not just the noise, but the traffic, the crowds! And the stale, dirty air, like it’s been in and out of thousands of pairs of lungs before you breathe it into yours! How could I have lived there for going on twenty years and not noticed?’
‘It’s the curse of humanity … its ability to adapt to the intolerable.’
‘Oh,’ she said, as if suddenly reminded. ‘I did manage to get some info for you about some modern art galleries in the Bond Street area. I took some pictures on my mobile and made notes.’
‘Bond Street?’ He let out a guffaw of laughter. ‘You believe in starting at the top, don’t you?’
‘Not Bond Street itself, those little streets around it.’
‘Even so!’ Instantly ashamed that he’d appeared to laugh at her ambition for him, he added, ‘But that’s very kind of you.’ She might be deluded, but it was a touching delusion.
‘Don’t thank me, I’m determined to get you noticed. Anyway, when I eventually got back, Malcolm didn’t even bother to mention he had the results already! He said he’d forgotten. Thinking about it now, I’m convinced he kept deliberately quiet. He didn’t want me leaving before he’d announced …’ Dory’s face suddenly crumpled. She covered it with her hand.
‘What’s the matter?’ Concern twisted his gut.
‘It’s nothing. It’s just …’ She breathed in. ‘He insisted we went out for this awful meal. I was tired and stressed, definitely not in the mood to socialise. To be fair, it was probably a fabulous meal. It was certainly expensive enough. But I’d be more grateful if I didn’t suspect they were simply showing off. It was so glaringly obvious that when I originally told them I was coming up to town, they planned the meal as the ideal setting for their grand announcement about … about …’
Stefan saw her bottom lip quiver.
‘What?’ he asked again. ‘You’re worrying me.’
‘Please don’t worry,’ she said with a sniff and half laugh. ‘I’m being pathetic.’ Shaking her head, she took a stuttering breath. ‘I don’t know why they felt they had to announce it like that. I am so not interested!’
Whatever ‘it’ was, she’d been deeply affected, Stefan realised. And though he asked her a third time, it was apparently easier for her to talk around the subject.
‘And Gabriella had this infuriating little smirky smile. And I had to sit there and listen to all their gooey rubbish and pretend to be interested and pretend to … It just about put the tin lid on it when we got back to the house and Malcolm told me he’d had Dom’s results all evening! I just grabbed my things and left. There was no way I was going to stay in that house if I didn’t have to. I only just caught the train home. And when I got my mobile out to call you, I remembered I’d meant to charge it up. I could have kicked myself. It was as flat as a pancake.’
‘I’ve told you, it doesn’t matter.’
‘That’s why I drove straight here. I’m sorry to have arrived so late.’
‘Stop apologising. It was far more exciting and dramatic to get the news that way. You are utterly and delightfully mad. I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am.’
‘I needed to tell you straight away. For you as much as Dom. I know you care about him.’
He nodded. There wouldn’t be a better time to come clean, even though it was late and they were both tired and a bit drunk. ‘There’s something I should have mentioned,’ he began. ‘You accused me of … how did you put it … exploiting Dom’s vulnerability?’
‘I’d no right to speak to you like that,’ she interrupted. ‘Life is never black and white, is it? And your relationship with Dom was … is … none of my business. But at the time, I was in your bad books for telling my sister about Dom being gay. Attack seemed the simplest way to deflect your disapproval. I regretted what I’d said immediately. But I know the real situation.’
‘You know?’
‘Dom told me, after laughing at the very idea. He told me you are his true friend, but you’re not gay. What perplexes me is why you let me make all those accusations. Why you didn’t correct me?’
Stefan picked up the champagne bottle and tried unsuccessfully to squeeze out another few drops.
‘Another?’
‘Better not. I’m sloshed already.’ ‘I’ll make coffee.’
‘Before you disappear off to the kitchen, will you explain?’
Why had he allowed her to rant at him? Why did he find it easier to let the world misjudge him?
‘I was half amused, half curious as to why you cared so much. But I thought, ultimately, best to let it lie. Sleeping dogs et cetera.’ He raised his eyebrows at her.
‘You preferred me to think badly of you?’
He sighed. ‘For a very long time it has suited me to remain out of play, if you like, in life’s great mating game.’ A long pause developed. He wondered what she made of the statement. He wondered what his own attitude was these days. It wasn’t something he reflected on. Maybe the time was right to revisit a decision made so long ago.
‘So, what is the story?’ she asked eventually. Here it comes, he thought. Dory’s not going to allow me to make a statement like that without interrogation. ‘About you and Dominic? You behave like a father. A groovy, laid-back, indulgent father, but still a father. You’re not, are you? Dom’s dad?’
He half laughed. She’d let him off one hook only to try and catch him with another.
Stefan stood up. ‘I’ll make the coffee. Don’t worry. I will tell you, but I need some caffeine first.’
Side by side on the sofa, Stefan told her how he and Dominic had met.
‘But it is just the beginning, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘There was a misunderstanding which could have been embarrassing, but which you both saw the funny side of. And then he modelled for you. You did the Icarus series based on Dominic, didn’t you? But there’s more to it. Why are you so close? Why did you take him under your wing?’
‘You know his history?’
‘I don’t know the detail, but I’ve made some assumptions.’
‘He’s only recently discovered that his drug addict sister is really his mother. His father was one of her unknown customers. From a young age, he was in care. Or looked after in current parlance. Foster placements broke down. He suffered bullying and abuse from older boys and was suspended from school so often he simply stopped going. He couldn’t stand the interference and the expectations at the children’s home he was living in. When he demanded to leave, their only offer was for him to go into supported accommodation, a hostel-type arrangement with social workers on shift. He was too young to be put in a flat. Dom being Dom wanted total freedom. He was offered tra
ining, but only for jobs he had no aptitude for, like car maintenance or building work. Easy for us to say he should have stuck with it, should have stayed in the accommodation, should have knuckled down and learnt a trade whether or not he fancied it. He was a damaged child who already knew he could make an independent living by prostituting himself.’
‘When you and he met, he desperately needed someone stable in his life. I see that … but why did you make the decision to be that person? Most of us walk by on the other side of the road. We may feel sympathy, but we move on. We have other things to do with our lives and don’t need the hassle. We leave it to someone else. What made you go the extra mile for Dominic?’
Stefan looked into her fascinating eyes and wondered how she saw him. If she had him down as some kind of altruistic hero, he needed to put her straight.
‘Don’t make it out to be more than it was. I never planned it. He wore me down.’ He briefly clutched his hand to his face and dragged it down, feeling the graze of his beard against his palm. Her wide eyes were fixed on him. He wanted to be open, but was scared of alienating her. Eventually, he said, ‘I saw that Dom needed support and encouragement. At his age it was what I’d wanted but didn’t get. But I was luckier. I had an education and possessed a kind of dogged self-belief. I rebelled against my father and went off without his blessing.’
‘To study sculpture?’
‘Fine art. I’d always been fascinated by sculpture but the sort of figurative work I wanted to do was discouraged. Easier to produce the kind of painting that gained approval, so that’s what I specialised in to get my degree. Then reality bit. I never sold anything. More importantly, I didn’t have the commitment, the love for what I was doing to make it as a painter. I had to earn a living. So, because of my interest in sculpture, I decided to get a job in a foundry and learn the process from the bottom up. I did a class in the evenings.’
‘It’s a big leap from working in a foundry to doing a post-graduate degree at the Graduate School of Figurative Art?’
