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by S. J. Morgan

  ‘You don’t keep in touch?’

  ‘According to Dad, she’s a sorry bloody excuse for a mother.’

  A loud clap of thunder seemed to shake the house as if to provide a booming finale to the statement.

  Sindy reached over and flipped some pages for me, clearly shutting the door on the discussion.

  ‘There’s a picture somewhere of me at the dry ski slope,’ Sindy said. ‘It’s really good: I look about twenty. Like a model.’

  She stopped at an odd set of photos: ones showing a steam-covered shower door. Through the glass on each photo, you could pick out an eye or a pair of lips where a patch of condensation had been wiped away.

  ‘What are these?’

  ‘I told you Dad likes photography,’ she laughed.

  I peered at the first few pictures. At the ones exposing an eye. ‘That’s... not you, is it?’

  ‘You recognised me, just from an eye!’

  My gaze drifted down the page but now with caution; with a dread that I might need to suddenly pull away.

  The next pictures focussed lower on the face – a pair of pink lips barely visible in some photos, while others showed an open mouth pressed to the glass; steam filling the hollow in the centre.

  ‘Your dad took these?’

  ‘Yes, they’re good, aren’t they?’

  Over the page, the palm of a hand was pressed against the shower screen. A small hand, pale and splayed.

  ‘How old were you?’

  ‘Eleven, maybe. Twelve. Not that long ago.’

  ‘He...came into the bathroom, while you were showering?’

  ‘To take the photos, silly.’

  ‘Mm.’ I couldn’t look at her.

  ‘It’s okay, he is my dad, you know.’ Sindy’s eyes smiled back at me, cheery, unconcerned.

  I returned the smile but closed the album. ‘They’re good,’ I said. ‘Interesting.’

  ‘Don’t you want to see the rest? Most people like the later ones.’

  ‘No. Thanks.’ I found myself backing away, easing myself free of the things I didn’t want to know. ‘I really have to get Black’s car back to him now.’

  ‘Okay.’ She placed the photo album back on the teetering pile on the table. ‘You can see them if you come around again. When Dad isn’t here.’

  ‘Great.’

  ‘Remember not to tell Minto, though,’ she said. ‘About you being here.’

  ‘Don’t worry!’

  She waved as I went down the concrete steps. I found myself stopping when I got to the bottom.

  ‘So how did your dad get to know Minto if you can’t invite people over?’ I said.

  ‘Oh, Minto’s different.’ She pushed her hair behind her ears, showing off a pair of big hoop earrings. ‘It was Dad who introduced me to him. Minto’s a family friend.’

  ‘They already knew each other?’

  ‘Business partners,’ she said. ‘Dad says they’re business partners. It’s good, isn’t it?’

  I managed a nod before walking away and turning my back on the whole sick mess.

  Chapter 13

  It wasn’t like she needed encouragement. After giving her a ride to her house that day, Sindy was all over me like a rash; popping in whenever she knew Minto wasn’t around; ‘happening’ to be passing whenever I set foot outside the flat; wandering out to the kitchen every time I put the kettle on. It wasn’t that I wanted to avoid her, but there was no happy medium with Sindy; no middle ground. And I knew it wouldn’t be long before Minto started smelling a rat – he might have been many things, but Minto certainly wasn’t stupid.

  It was Friday teatime when she knocked on my door. Had I not had the hole patched up, I’d’ve had some warning it was her, but as it was, I assumed Stobes was at a loose end and wanted to go for a pint.

  ‘Yeah, come in,’ I shouted.

  Sindy’s head appeared, her fingers squeaking as she held onto the door. ‘Hi, Alec. Are you busy?’

  I went back to the newspaper, hoping she’d take the hint, knowing she wouldn’t. ‘I am a bit.’

  ‘Minto’s gone down The Adam and Eve. I told him I’d see him later.’

  ‘Nice.’

  ‘You could come too.’

  I looked up. ‘Me? Why?’

  ‘Not with me,’ she said, quickly. ‘I mean, you could just...go down there and play pool or whatever.’

  ‘Yes, but...why?’

  She shrugged and picked up my stapler. ‘I just thought it’d be nice.’

  ‘I don’t think so, Sindy. I’ve got a lot on. Anyway, it’s still hot – I don’t want to go to some sweaty swill-hole in town.’

  ‘Hottest day on record,’ she told me.

  ‘There you go then.’

  She came out from behind my table. I hadn’t seen what she was wearing when she first came in but now, I could see the black and white kilt with the fishnets and black ankle boots. Her top was white, stretchy and ribbed. She had nothing on underneath, so the outline of her nipples was clearly visible. It wasn’t like she needed anything for support, but she definitely needed something for decency.

  I was suddenly aware of her watching me as I took in her appearance.

  ‘Do you like it?’ she said. ‘It’s too hot to wear much.’

  She perched on the corner of the table, taking a big lungful of air so that her T-shirt clung even more closely to her skin.

  I looked away. ‘Yeah, so like I said – I think I’ll give town a miss, so maybe you’d better get on your way, eh?’

  She looked crestfallen. ‘I just thought...’

  ‘Look, Sindy.’ I folded the paper and got out of my chair. ‘You look lovely. Don’t take it the wrong way. But you’re Minto’s girlfriend. He wouldn’t want you in here talking to me. And I think...’

  ‘Oh, he might not mind, actually.’

  ‘Trust me: he would.’

  ‘Not if you paid him.’

  For some reason, I laughed. ‘What?’

  ‘You could pay him. He wouldn’t mind what we did then. Really. I know he wouldn’t.’ I could sense her enthusiasm rising. ‘You could suggest it – if you came to the pub.’

  ‘Sindy...’

  A knock on the door silenced us and had it opened at that moment, we’d have looked like the guiltiest fucking pair this side of the Tawe.

  ‘Who is it?’ I shouted.

  ‘Someone you don’t deserve!’ A girl’s voice. One that I recognised but couldn’t place.

  Sindy let out a sigh. ‘Guess I’ll go then.’ Her shoulders slumped as she made for the door: the T-shirt didn’t look half as tight on her as it had before.

  I reached past her for the door handle. ‘Thanks for the invite though,’ I said. ‘To the pub, I mean. Another time.’

  ‘Okay.’

  I opened the door.

  ‘Hi, stranger. Remember me?’

  I was so busy gawping, I barely registered Sindy slipping past me and heading off down the stairs.

  ‘So, are you going to invite me in?’ Daniella said. She glanced behind her. ‘Or did I catch you at a bad time?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ I said, quickly. ‘That was just…she’s with one of the guys in the flat.’

  ‘Good.’ A dimple appeared as Daniella smiled, like a cheeky ‘x marks the spot’. I hadn’t seen her in full light before and certainly not this sober, so I found myself studying her, hurriedly taking in all those vaguely remembered features: the shiny newness of her skin and those pink lips that had suddenly tilted up to me like a beckoning finger. I pressed my mouth against them a bit too hurriedly– smudging them with an embarrassingly slippery kiss, sexy as a wet haddock.

  ‘Well, come on in,’ I said, straightening up and making a grand sweeping gesture as if it would somehow make up for it. ‘Jeez, I can’t believe you’re just suddenly...here!’

  ‘Me neither,’ she said, her eyes everywhere as she wandered in.

  I kicked magazines under the bed and shoved bundles of clothes onto the table as she meandered ov
er to inspect the view.

  ‘You’re lucky I kept your address given that you stood me up,’ she said.

  I pulled my crispy undies off the radiator while Daniella turned to look at me, her arms folded; long fingers tapping against her sleeve.

  ‘I’m really sorry about that,’ I said. I sat on the bed, my hands still awash with crumpled underwear.

  ‘Some of my friends said I was mad to even come,’ she told me. ‘They said you probably had a girlfriend or wouldn’t remember me or that you...’

  ‘Nothing like that,’ I said. ‘I felt really bad about not turning up that day.’

  ‘Really?’

  I nodded. ‘I swear. If I could’ve let you know, I would have. But I didn’t know your phone number or anything.’

  ‘No, I realised that,’ she said, perching beside me. ‘It’s the only reason I gave you the benefit of the doubt.’

  Her arm was warm against mine and she smelt clean and fresh, like she’d never been unwrapped.

  ‘So, how...did you...get here? Swansea, I mean?’ If the conversation took any more of a nosedive, I’d be asking one of Mum’s ‘how was the journey, love?’ questions.

  ‘I drove. Dad’s kind of given me his old Marina. He says it’s a loan but...y’know.’

  She shrugged and laughed, and it was only then I realised she was every bit as nervous as me.

  ‘Nice.’

  ‘I’m staying with my mate, Kirsty,’ she said. ‘Remember I told you I had a friend here?’

  I didn’t but I nodded anyway. ‘Oh, yeah.’

  ‘I haven’t been round there yet. Thought I’d get this over with first.’ Another giggle. ‘In case I really did find you here with a live-in lover.’ Her throat moved as she swallowed. ‘Who did you say that girl was?’

  ‘Oh, just a friend of Minto’s.’ I nodded at the wall. ‘Minto’s got the room next door.’

  ‘There’s just the two of you?’

  ‘No, there’s Stobes and Black upstairs.’

  She laughed again. ‘Stobes and Black? Sound like a pair of undertakers. Stobes and Black.’ She deepened her voice and put on a posh accent. ‘Carefully disposing of family members since nineteen twenty-two.’

  It caused momentary amusement, but the nervous silence edged back in.

  ‘So, do you want to...do something?’ I asked. ‘Or are you in a hurry to get to your friend’s place?’

  ‘I’ll see her later. Let’s go out,’ she said, jumping to her feet and putting a hand towards me. ‘You can show me what this sad little backwater has to offer.’

  With a set of wheels, we had the whole of Swansea at our disposal. We could’ve headed into town, but I suggested we take the short drive along the coast to one of my favourite spots.

  ‘Mumbles!’ Daniella chortled, as we headed out of the city. ‘I’d forgotten there was a place called Mumbles.’

  ‘Yeah! What’s so freaking funny?’ I said. ‘It’s got a pier, a beach…it’s got a lighthouse, a castle nearby – what more could you want?’

  She finally managed to stop laughing. ‘I dunno. A decent pub, maybe?’

  ‘Demanding, aren’t you?’ I said, shaking my head. ‘But, as it happens, it’s got a ton of decent drinking holes.’

  ‘Sounds promising,’ she said as we pulled up at the lights. She applied something glossy to her lips. ‘And in light of this new information, I approve of your choice.’

  I grinned across at her, taking in the enticing sheen of her smile. ‘Good,’ I said. ‘You can give me a proper thank you later.’

  I felt surprisingly proud to show off my adopted home as we weaved through Mumbles. It was like I was seeing it afresh, through her eyes – all those squished together cottages; the tiny lanes and blink-and-you’ll-miss-them stairways. And then, on the other side of us, the expanse of golden coastline, sweeping in a perfect curve like a painter’s flourish.

  Of course, we were enjoying it at its best: the heatwave had continued through August, so everyone was out in their summer clothes, strolling the promenade or sipping beer as they sat looking out over the water. With the sun starting to dip behind the hill, it was like the place had decided to put on a show just for us – and to prove to my attractive out-of-towner what this ‘sad little backwater’ was really all about.

  I decided we’d start off in my favourite pub. It was set back from the road, with cracking views of the sea, and of the hills across the bay, silhouetted against the sky. The place was normally awash with skinny-ribbed, turtlenecked-clad students, but most of them had buggered off for the summer, so now it was full of locals, enjoying the balmy evening and the student-free peace.

  Daniella looked as summery-stunning as the surroundings. Her hair was loose and wavy, and she was wearing this off-the-shoulder dress that made me want to press my lips against all that exposed skin.

  ‘So, you still haven’t told me what was so important that you had to stand me up,’ Daniella said as I slid onto the sofa beside her with our drinks. Although her tone was casual, it wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned being ditched by me, so I figured she was still pissed off.

  ‘Long story,’ I told her. ‘And boring as hell. Trust me: you don’t wanna know.’

  She took a long sip from her glass, her blue-painted fingernails dark against the dayglo orange of her juice. She looked me straight in the eye. ‘Actually, I do.’

  She clearly wasn’t a woman to be brushed off with vague excuses. I liked that in her.

  ‘It’s very boring,’ I said, stringing her along a bit further.

  ‘Well, not knowing is very annoying. Boring would at least be a change.’

  I put down my pint. ‘Okay. If you insist. But prepare yourself for a sharp dose of tedium.’ I cleared my throat, rubbed the frost off my glass and shifted in my seat. I guess I hadn’t discussed the nitty-gritty of my home life with many people and I felt like I was suddenly being asked to strip off. ‘Thing is,’ I said. ‘We have a few...issues in our house.’

  ‘Mm, don’t we all? Go on.’

  I hardly knew what to tell her because the whole tale had a kind of domino effect: I couldn’t tell her about Mum without explaining the cemetery visit. And if I told her about that, I’d be forced to go over the stuff about Gina. Then more about Mum. And maybe Dad too.

  I gave her concrete details; the facts, like I was reading a news bulletin. First there was this, then that, then that. Dosh, dosh, dosh, job done.

  ‘Your poor mum,’ she said, shaking her head.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And she didn’t cotton on to the fact that you hadn’t actually remembered the date?’

  ‘Nah. I don’t know how I forgot. It’s always been etched on my brain: her birth day; her death day. This time, though, it just slipped my mind.’

  ‘It’s sad really, isn’t it?’ Daniella said. ‘I mean, Gina was one of you; an intrinsic part of the family, and yet...none of you remembered something as important as her sixteenth birthday except your mum.’

  ‘Time passes,’ I said. ‘You have to move on at some point.’ I looked down, wishing I believed it.

  Daniella kept her eyes on the table. ‘I bet your mum hasn’t – moved on, I mean.’

  ‘She does a bit too much living in the past,’ I said. ‘That’s the other reason I ran out of time to see you.’ I took a breath, gearing up to serve the main course. ‘Mum’s developed a problem,’ I said. ‘She’s turned Gina’s room – well, the spare room – into a kind of mausoleum. It feels... sick, somehow. Like she’s not letting Gina rest. Jeez, when I first saw it, it felt like Mum had gone down to that fucking graveyard and dug her up.’

  All the time I talked, I didn’t look at Daniella – I just kept right on going so I wouldn’t have to suffer any reactions. As soon as I stopped though, I made the mistake of glancing across. She was looking at me, wide-eyed: horrified yet fascinated.

  ‘And that’s only the tip of the iceberg,’ I found myself telling her. ‘She’s also got bags of outfits she’s
bought for Gina. Stuff from all the high street boutiques: you name it, she’s probably got it in every size, colour and style option. No wonder Dad’s skint. He’s paying to keep his late daughter in the lap of luxury. And Mum knows it’s crazy, but she can’t seem to help herself.’

  We stared at the table and both reached for our drinks at the same time.

  ‘Sounds like other people need to help her,’ Daniella said. ‘You. And your dad.’

  ‘Ah, Dad barely talks about Gina,’ I said. ‘It’s like, because he was away when it all happened, he shouldn’t have to – ’

  ‘Hey! Fancy running into you again.’

  I looked up from my pint, swiftly recalibrating as Sindy stood there, smiling. She was still wearing the same little kilt and fishnet number I’d seen on her earlier, but it was now topped off with a triple layer of make-up. She rested her knee on the edge of my seat.

  ‘All right, Sindy? Thought you lot were off down the Adam and Eve.’

  ‘We were. I mean, we did. Then we came here.’ She was clutching a black bike helmet so big it looked like her wrist might snap with the weight of it.

  She looked across at Daniella and gave her a half-smile. ‘I saw you earlier at the flat, didn’t I?’

  ‘This is Daniella,’ I told her. ‘Where’s Minto?’

  ‘They’re parking the bikes outside.’ The way her words smudged into one another hinted at why her knee needed to rest on the seat.

  ‘Having a big night, are you?’ I said. I kept a close eye on the door. ‘Maybe you’d better go and save them a spot at the bar – it takes ages to get served in here.’

  But Sindy was busy studying Daniella. ‘So, are you Alec’s girlfriend?’

  ‘There’s a gap over there,’ I said, nodding towards the bar. ‘If you’re quick you can get in there.’

  A blast of air from the doorway heralded the arrival of Minto and half a dozen of his cronies. He removed his gloves, looking around as he planted himself in the middle of the room, legs apart like he was rooted for the evening. Punters with drinks moved around him, instinctively avoiding eye contact. He’d have no problem getting alcohol for a clearly underaged drinker.

  ‘You’d better go, Sindy,’ I mumbled – and it was all I could do not to give her a shove. Too late, though.