Eighteen
We wander back inside the pub together, still talking about the fish’s tail that once again appeared before us in the waves around St Felix.
There’s a change at our table as Suzy is now sitting where Claire was, and Mandy has rejoined the group.
‘Suz!’ I rush over to greet her. ‘You made it.’
‘I did indeed.’ Suzy smiles at me. ‘Always one to make a dramatic late entrance, aren’t I? Hello, Rob,’ she says, looking behind me with interest at Rob. ‘I saw you two outside when I arrived, but I didn’t want to disturb you; you looked deep in conversation.’
‘Just catching up,’ I say quickly. ‘Now, tell me all your news. I want to hear all the gossip from the Houses of Parliament.’
‘Ha, you know I can’t tell you any gossip,’ she says, grinning at me. ‘Not anything too juicy anyway!’
After we’ve all been sitting back down at the table for a few minutes, with Suzy telling us everything she is allowed to about her job working for Prime Minister Tony Blair, I begin to wonder where Claire is.
‘Where’s Claire?’ I ask Eddie, now sitting next to me. ‘When I came back in, I thought she’d just popped to the loo, but she’s been gone ages.’
‘The husband called when you were outside with Rob. Claire left shortly after that.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame. I hope nothing is wrong at home.’
‘I doubt it,’ Eddie whispers, leaning in towards me. ‘Nothing with the kids, anyway . . . ’ He raises his eyebrows meaningfully.
‘What do you mean?’ I also lower my voice.
‘I dunno,’ Eddie says. ‘I get the feeling something isn’t right there.’
‘With Claire?’
‘With Jonathan, more like.’
‘Eddie, what are you trying to say?’ Eddie’s serious tone, unusual for him, is worrying me.
‘What are you two whispering about?’ Mandy asks in a loud voice. ‘No secrets allowed around this table!’
‘Nothing,’ Eddie says, sitting up again. ‘Nothing for you to worry about, anyway.’
‘We were just talking about Claire,’ I reply honestly. ‘I wondered where she’d gone.’
‘Home to the hubby!’ Mandy says, saluting. ‘Like the good housewife she is.’
I frown. ‘That’s not fair, Mandy. Claire is a good mother to her children.’
‘I never mentioned her children,’ Mandy says. ‘It’s her husband you need to watch.’
I stare at Mandy. ‘What’s going on here?’ I ask. Now Mandy is talking about Jonathan in a strange way too. ‘Am I missing something?’
Mandy shakes her head. ‘Just forget I said anything.’
‘No,’ I demand. ‘I won’t. Do you guys know something I don’t?’
‘Don’t look at me.’ Rob shrugs. ‘I live in America. I have no idea what they’re talking about.’
‘Or me,’ Suzy says. ‘Has something happened?’
We all look at Mandy.
She sighs loudly. ‘My mum said something to me tonight when I said I was going to be meeting you all. I didn’t think much of it at the time. But when Claire rushed off like she did, it reminded me.’
‘What?’ I ask. ‘What did she say?’
‘She said she was surprised Claire was being allowed to go out to the pub on her own. From what she’d heard, Jonathan keeps a tight rein on her.’
‘Tight rein? What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I think he’s quite possessive. Claire used to be on all sorts of committees – the school, the local women’s guild, et cetera. But she’s suddenly stopped all that now. My mum said Claire’s mum is quite worried about her.’
I stare at Mandy, trying to take all this in. How did I not know any of this? Why didn’t I notice? Claire used to be one of my best friends. Correction, she still is one of my best friends.
‘Actually,’ Rob says. ‘Now you’ve mentioned it, my mum said something similar a while back too when I was on the phone to her. She’s remained quite good friends with Claire’s mum since the move, and she did say something about her mum being worried about her and did I know anything? I said no, I hadn’t really spoken to any of you that recently – which I’m sorry to say is the truth. My mum had doubts about Jonathan from the start, though.’
‘Why?’ Suzy asks.
Rob shrugs. ‘I don’t know. But when I came down for their wedding, she said could I find out what Jonathan was really like. So I asked a few questions and you guys all seemed to think he was fine – do you remember me asking you, Frankie?’
‘Not really,’ I mutter, trying to take all this in and make sense of it. Claire looked particularly drawn and exhausted tonight. But she seemed fine once we sat down and got chatting – just like the old Claire, quiet, considered, full of concern for everyone.
Full of concern for everyone . . . but herself. I tried several times to engage Claire in conversation about herself and her family, but she answered briefly and quickly changed the subject. Was that why? Because she didn’t want to talk about her home life? Were things so awful that she’d rather talk about anything but herself?
‘I’m going to her house,’ I say, standing up suddenly. ‘To make sure everything is all right.’
‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’ Eddie asks. ‘It might make things worse?’
‘How can it make things worse? I want to check my friend is all right.’
‘Frankie, Eddie might be right,’ Suzy says calmly. ‘If, and it’s a big if right now . . . we have nothing to go on, only a little bit of hearsay and gossip. If something is wrong at home, you turning up all guns blazing, full of alcohol, isn’t going to help. It might make things worse.’
‘Firstly, I am not full of alcohol,’ I tell her. ‘I’ve been on soft drinks all night, so I am perfectly compos mentis. And, secondly, I’m not going to cause a scene. I’m simply going to call in on my friend and check she’s OK. What could possibly be wrong with that?’
‘Should we all go?’ Eddie asks. ‘Safety in numbers and all that?’
‘Yeah,’ Mandy says, raising her fists in front of her. ‘We’ll sort him out. I’m in the mood for a fight!’
‘No,’ I say firmly. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea at all. You guys stay here. I’ll be fine on my own. I don’t want Jonathan to think we know anything.’
‘If there’s anything to know,’ Suzy reminds me. ‘Look,’ she says to everyone, ‘I work in politics, and I know how quickly a rumour can spread, whether it’s true or not. We might make things worse if we all turn up throwing accusations around.’
‘I’d offer to come with you,’ Rob says, looking slightly shamefaced. ‘But Jonathan and I aren’t on the best of terms.’
‘Why?’ I ask. ‘Something else I don’t know about?’
‘Well, yes. You see, Jonathan’s sister came out to LA to work. She didn’t know anyone there so Claire asked me to show her around.’ He hesitates and glances at me. ‘Things got a little heated, shall we say, one night, and Diana wasn’t too happy when I didn’t want to make it a more permanent arrangement.’
‘Rob!’ Mandy is grinning at him, ‘You dog! No wonder Jonathan hates you. You bedded his sister then ditched her.’
‘It wasn’t quite like that.’ Rob looks decidedly uncomfortable. ‘But I’m not his favourite person in the world.’
‘Would you like me to go?’ Mack asks. I’ve almost forgotten Mack is here with all this going on. He of course remained silent throughout our discussions, not really knowing either party that well. ‘I’m a neutral in all this.’
I turn away from Rob, trying not to think too much about what he’s just told us. ‘Yes, thank you, Mack. That might be a good idea. If you don’t mind, that is? I don’t want to drag you away from the pub?’
Mack smiles. ‘Nah, I spend far too much of my time in a bar. Some fresh Cornish night air will do me good.’
‘We’ll come back when we’ve checked everything is OK,’ I tell the others. ‘We won’t be long.’
Mack and I leave the pub together and begin to walk to Claire’s house – one of the traditional fishermen’s cottages in the old part of town.
‘Thanks for coming,’ I tell him as we walk.
‘Not a problem,’ Mack says. ‘I’m glad to be of help.’
‘So, what’s your bar in LA like?’ I ask to make conversation. ‘A bit different from the Merry Mermaid, I bet.’
‘It’s big,’ Mack says. ‘And often real noisy when it’s busy and there’s games on. So this,’ he holds out his arms as if he’s willing as much fresh sea air to absorb into him as possible, ‘this is wonderful. Here I can only hear the wind and the occasional gull who hasn’t gone to bed yet – this is heaven. I’d forgotten how healing silence can be.’
I smile. It’s lovely to see someone else enjoying the simple pleasures of St Felix.
‘I’ll be quiet then, shall I?’ I ask. ‘So you can really enjoy some peace and quiet?’
‘You will not,’ Mack says, smiling at me. ‘Rob has told me so much about you and your friends that it’s rather wonderful to hear you talk for yourselves.’
I’m surprised to hear Rob talks so much about us after all these years.
‘Rob said you live up in Bonnie Scotland,’ Mack continues. ‘Which part?’
‘Glasgow – I work in an art gallery there.’
‘Cool. What sort of art?’
‘Mostly fine art. We also have a couple of galleries with more modern stuff in too.’
‘And what do you think to the modern stuff?’ Mack asks, surprising me.
‘It’s all right, I suppose. It’s not my personal speciality.’
‘What is?’
I glance at Mack to see if he’s simply making polite conversation. But he seems genuinely interested.
‘Don’t call me dull, but I really like impressionism of the late nineteenth century.’
‘Why does that make you dull?’
‘When I was at art college, it wasn’t the done thing to like Monet, Renoir and the rest. Everyone was trying to be cool and different.’
‘And you weren’t?’
‘I tried to be to begin with, but then I realised you just have to be yourself, whether yourself is the in thing or not.’
‘Quite right.’ Mack nods. ‘What do you think to Cézanne?’
‘Love Cézanne.’
‘Cubist or post-impressionist?’ Mack asks, and again I’m surprised.
‘Post-impressionist,’ I say. ‘Cubism is Picasso to me, and I’m not really a fan.’
‘Me either. Have you ever been to the Met Museum in New York?’
‘No, sadly.’
‘If you ever get the chance, I thoroughly recommend it. You’d love it there.’
‘I’ll be sure to check it out the next time I’m in New York.’ And I can’t help smiling to myself.
Mack turns and sees me. ‘You’ve never been to New York, have you?’ he says knowingly, but not judgementally.
I shake my head. ‘No, but I’d like to one day.’
‘You should. I think you’d like it there. New Yorkers are very much themselves at all times. Whereas in LA there are a lot of people trying very hard to be someone they’re not.’
‘It sounds perfect. I much prefer to surround myself with genuine people.’
Mack smiles.
‘What does your wife do?’ I ask. ‘Sarah, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, Sarah’s a doctor. She mainly works in primary care.’
‘That’s like a GP here?’
‘Yes, only without your good old NHS. We have to pay for our healthcare over in the States.’
‘It must be difficult with your hours in the bar – I assume she works mostly days and you nights?’
‘I do afternoons too, but, yeah, it’s not ideal. How about you – any sign of Mr Right yet?’
‘Noo!’ I probably say it a little too vehemently. ‘Not yet. I’m not really looking though.’
‘Why not?’
I shrug. ‘Dunno, just a bit busy with work right now. We’re here,’ I say, pointing down the street. ‘That one with the blue door – that’s Claire’s house.’
‘Do you want me to hang back?’ Mack asks.
‘Might be for the best.’
Mack stops walking and allows me to continue. I stop in front of Claire’s door and take a deep breath.
Then I knock.
I look back at Mack while I wait for someone to answer. He’s leaning casually against a wall, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to be hanging around a narrow Cornish street late at night. He smiles at me, so I smile back.
‘Frankie?’ Claire says as she opens the door in her dressing gown. ‘What are you doing here this late – has something happened?’
‘No, nothing’s happened. I wanted to check you were all right, that’s all.’
‘Why wouldn’t I be all right?’ Claire asks a bit too breezily.
‘Er . . . ’ I didn’t really think about what I was going to say to Claire, I just knew that I needed to see her. ‘It’s just you left the pub quite quickly tonight,’ I say as the thought occurs. ‘It seemed a little odd. Is everything OK?’ I glance behind her into the house, not really knowing what I’m looking for.
‘Yes . . . ’ Claire frowns. ‘Why wouldn’t it be? You’re being very odd, Frankie, even for you. And considering I’ve known you since you were four years old, that’s saying something.’
‘How’s Jonathan?’ I try a different tack, knowing this conversation is going nowhere fast.
I see Claire stiffen just a little. She pulls the collar of her dressing gown a little tighter across her chest. ‘He’s fine.’
‘Good. Everything is OK, then?’
‘Frankie, why do you keep asking me that? Is there something I should know?’
I swallow, and glance quickly at Mack. He’s still waiting patiently a little way down the street.
Claire sees me and leans out of her doorway. ‘Is that Rob’s friend, Mack – what is he doing here?’
‘Nothing, he just walked me here. We . . . I just wanted to check you were OK.’
‘And as I keep telling you I’m absolutely fine. The children are fine. Jonathan is fine.’
I nod hurriedly. ‘Good . . . that’s good. It’s just . . . ’
Claire waits for me to finish with a questioning expression.
‘Rob said your mum is worried about you,’ I say eventually.
‘Rob said?’
‘Yeah, he said when he was speaking to his mum, she asked if you were OK because your mum had told her she was worried about you.’
I know I’m starting to sound like we’re back at school again with all the ‘his mum, your mum said’ stuff. But how else can I explain why I’m here?
‘Did she?’ Claire says with pursed lips.
‘Yes, and Mandy said something similar too.’
‘I see how it is. You’re all in the pub getting drunk, you’ve run out of things to talk about, so you’re discussing me, are you?’
‘No, it wasn’t like that. You just seemed to go off in a hurry, that’s all.’
‘Frankie,’ Claire says in a voice that makes her sound like her mother. ‘Unlike you, I have other people to think about in my life. I have a husband and a family who need me. When they call, I come, it’s as simple as that. We don’t all have the freedom you do to come and go as we please. You clearly like being single – perhaps it suits you, perhaps you aren’t cut out to have a family. But I am and they will always come first.’
Claire finishes her speech and stares at me – defiantly to begin with, but then her face softens and she looks immediately apologetic. She’s about to speak again when a voice behind her in the house calls out. ‘Claire, who’s at the door?’
Claire visibly stiffens.
‘No one, Jonathan. Go back to the television. I’ll be there in a minute to make the tea.’
‘You’d better go,’ she whispers.
‘Why?’ I ask, equally defiant. ‘What’s wrong with your friend calling on you?’
Jonathan clearly hasn’t listened to Claire. He appears behind her, also wearing nightwear with a dressing gown over the top.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ he says, seeing me. ‘I should have known.’
‘Jonathan,’ Claire says reproachfully. ‘Frankie was just worried about me because I left the pub without saying goodbye, that’s all. She’s going now I’ve told her everything is fine.’
Jonathan nods. ‘You didn’t bring that waste-of-space boyfriend of yours with you, did you?’ he asks, leaning past Claire to look out into the street. He squints as he spots Mack’s shadowy figure.
‘No,’ Claire says hurriedly. ‘That’s not Rob, that’s someone else.’
‘Dumped the movie star now, have you?’ Jonathan asks, grinning. ‘I’m not surprised.’
I stare hard at Jonathan. How have I never noticed what a loathsome man he is? Perhaps he’s been very good at hiding it.
‘Not that it’s any of your business,’ I reply calmly. ‘But Rob and I have not been together since we were at school.’ A lie of course, but what did it matter right now? What’s important is finding out if Claire is all right. ‘And if you don’t mind, I’ve come here to check on Claire. Not to listen to you insult my other friends.’
Jonathan glares at me. But I simply stare back at him. I’m not going to let this excuse of a man bully me. Because it’s becoming clearer by the minute that’s what he’s probably doing to Claire.
‘Claire, I think it’s time you came back in,’ he says, putting his hand across her so it rests on the door frame, his arm now a visible barrier between us. ‘I’m sure your friend has better things to do with her time than stand on our doorstep at night.’
I turn to Claire. But she simply looks beseechingly back at me. ‘Please go, Frankie,’ she says pleadingly. ‘It’s for the best. I’ll see you tomorrow at the funeral.’
‘That’s tomorrow?’ Jonathan asks. ‘Is it not bad enough that you abandoned your family to spend tonight in a public house with your friends, but you expect to do the same again tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow is different,’ Claire says quietly. ‘It’s Mandy’s sister’s funeral. It’s hardly a day trip.’
‘We’ll see tomorrow,’ Jonathan says in a cold voice.
‘You can’t stop her going to a funeral,’ I blurt out. ‘That’s crazy. What do you think she’s going to do, run away with the undertaker?’
I hear Mack snort with laughter down the road. But Jonathan doesn’t find it quite as amusing. He steps forward in front of Claire and leans over me in a threatening manner, but only because he’s still standing on the step. I know Jonathan is no taller than I am.
‘Stay away from Claire,’ he says quietly but firmly. ‘Do you understand?’
‘Or what?’ I ask defiantly, folding my arms across my chest. I can feel myself shaking inside, but it’s more from rage than intimidation. ‘What will you do, Jonathan?’
‘You little bitch. Who do you think you are?’ He sneers and lunges towards me. As I swiftly sidestep his advance, he stumbles a few steps across the road, but he doesn’t fall. He turns and is about to come towards me again when someone steps in between us.
‘I don’t think so, fella,’ Mack says. Now Mack is
much taller than me, so he towers over Jonathan. Jonathan looks angrily up at him.
‘What business is this of yours?’ he snaps.
‘None of my business whatsoever,’ Mack says calmly. ‘But I never appreciate seeing men attack women – physically or otherwise.’ Mack glances at Claire. ‘Are you all right?’ he asks her gently. ‘Would you like me to call anyone for you? Anyone at all?’
Jonathan sees his moment and lunges at Mack, but Mack quickly administers what looks like a martial art move on him so Jonathan lands firmly on his back.
‘That’s enough now,’ Mack says firmly, looking down at him. ‘I deal with guys three times the size of you several nights a week in my bar. Claire?’ he asks again. ‘What would you like to happen now?’
‘I think you should both go,’ Claire says, looking with pity at her husband lying on the cobbled street. ‘I’ll be fine, honestly.’
Jonathan pulls himself to his feet. He attempts to glare at us as he brushes himself down.
‘Now,’ Mack says, addressing Jonathan. ‘We’ll expect to see Claire at the funeral tomorrow. In fact, Frankie and I will personally be calling in the morning to escort her.’
Jonathan hobbles towards his front door and pushes past Claire.
‘And Jonathan,’ Mack calls after him as he tries to disappear down the hall.
Jonathan turns.
‘If I see one bruise on Claire tomorrow. Just one. I won’t be quite as polite when I come calling next time. Understand?’
Jonathan growls something and turns away again.
‘Claire.’ I go over to her. ‘Are you—’
‘You have no idea what you’ve done.’ Claire looks tearful. ‘Please just go. Thank you, Mack,’ she says, turning to him. ‘I’m sorry you’ve got dragged into this tonight.’
Mack just nods.
‘Come on, Frankie,’ he says gently, trying to guide me away. ‘Let’s do as Claire wants. We’ll call for you tomorrow, Claire. Around ten-thirty, all right?’
Claire nods, then she backs through her doorway and closes the blue door.
I stand staring at the door for a moment.
‘Frankie,’ Mack repeats. ‘We should go. We can’t do anything more tonight.’
Reluctantly, I nod.
‘Would you like to walk for a bit until you’ve cleared your head?’ he asks. ‘Or shall we go back to the pub?’
‘A walk sounds like a good idea. I’m not ready to face the others’ questions just yet.’
‘Lead the way, then.’
We walk down the street a little further until it branches out into a car park and then into a large area of greenery, which in turn leads up a hill towards the cliff edge.
I’m grateful to Mack that he doesn’t try to force the conversation. I’m still trying to process what just happened, and I need time to think.
It’s breezy out, and my long hair blows around my face as we get nearer to the sea. I reach into my pocket, but I haven’t brought a band with me.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Mack asks, after we’ve walked for a bit without saying an awful lot. ‘Claire?’
‘Yes, mostly. I was actually just thinking that I wished I’d brought a hairband with me,’ I reply as yet again I’m forced to push my hair away from my face. ‘I usually carry one, but I didn’t expect to be walking out here tonight.’
Mack smiles. ‘As you can see, I don’t have that problem.’ He gestures to his wavy brown hair, which seemed floppy in the pub, but now is blowing back off his face so I can see all his features in more detail. Mack is actually quite handsome, my mind registers momentarily, before my hair is blown across my face once again. But Mack reaches into his jacket pocket and produces, to my surprise, a hairband with a little pink bow on it, surrounded by three tiny shells.
‘Why on earth do you have that?’ I ask, staring at his hand. ‘Do you have children?’
‘No, two nieces. I often end up with all sorts in my pockets after a day spent with them. Although I don’t actually remember how I came across this particular item?’ He stares at it a little puzzled. ‘Here, take it. You have more use for it than me.’
I take the band and tie it loosely into my hair to make a ponytail. ‘Thank you.’
We stand for a moment looking out over the sea, the moon still lighting up the waves as they roll in over the sand.
‘I should also thank you for earlier,’ I say. ‘For helping out with Jonathan.’
Mack shrugs. ‘It’s nothing. I’ve dealt with men like that before – too many times in fact.’
‘I can’t believe I didn’t notice anything was wrong sooner. I know we don’t see each other too often these days, but I’ve visited their house, spent time with both Jonathan and the children. Everything seemed fine.’
‘In my experience, both parties involved in this type of relationship are desperately trying to hide it. The abuser is worried someone will find out about their behaviour, and then they’ll lose the one thing they think they’re trying to keep safe with their actions – the victim. And the victim is usually so embarrassed it’s happening to them, they can’t bear the thought of anyone knowing their relationship is anything but perfect.’
‘How do you know so much about this?’ I ask. ‘Everything you’re saying is absolutely spot on.’
‘Ah, I’ve been around,’ Mack says. ‘I’m not talking from personal experience, I should add. The only abusive relationship I’ve overcome is with alcohol. But I’ve had friends in similar situations. These types of relationship don’t always involve physical violence. Sometimes the abuse is simply about controlling the other person.’
‘I hope that’s the case with Claire. Not that mental abuse is any better, mind, but if I find out he’s been hitting her.’ My hand balls into a fist.
‘What will you do?’ Mack asks to my surprise. I expected he’d say something like, ‘You mustn’t get involved’, or ‘It’s no good you steaming in with all guns blazing.’ That’s the sort of thing people usually said.
‘I . . . I don’t know. I’m just so worried about her. Especially after tonight. She must be so scared.’
‘Conversely, the abuser is actually the one who’s usually the most scared, even though he’s the one doing the abusing. They’re paranoid about losing the other person, and therefore behave with them in a way that isn’t acceptable. I only met Claire tonight, but I’d say she’s stronger than you think.’
I look at Mack. He really is saying all the right things, even if they aren’t what I want to hear. ‘Yes, you’re probably right. I just wish there was something I could do, though.’
‘Unpopular opinion, but, if you want my advice, there’s nothing much you can do. Not yet. Not until the person wants to be helped. But when she does . . . ’
‘I’ll probably be hundreds of miles away up in Scotland.’ I sigh.
‘You can still be a sounding board, a friendly ear for her to unload all her problems.’
I smile at Mack. ‘Who made you so wise?’
Mack shrugs. ‘Worldly wise maybe. It comes from listening to many, many people unburden their problems to me over the years.’
‘This is some trip back home, you know? If it’s not bad enough that one of my best friends is burying her sister tomorrow, now I find out that my other friend’s husband could be abusing her. As if I didn’t have enough problems of my own right now.’
Mack doesn’t enquire what those problems are. And I’m glad.
‘I meant what I said,’ he reminds me instead. ‘We’ll swing by and pick Claire up tomorrow. Check everything is all right.’
‘Thank you. I think that’s a great idea. I’m sorry you got dragged into all this, Mack. I’m sure the last thing you need on your vacation is to find yourself in the middle of a broken marriage.’
Mack is silent for moment, before he says, ‘No worries at all. I’m kinda used to that as well.’