Chapter 21 #2
‘On a purely professional basis. We were working on a series of nostalgia shows for Channel 4 – you know – the hits and TV shows and adverts from a certain year. We approached Bee to appear in the 1985 programme. She declined. I took her out for lunch, to try to persuade her. And well – if I’m to be entirely honest, because I really wanted to meet her.
I’d had an almighty crush on her when I was younger, you see.
So I took her out for lunch and she said, Absolutely no way.
The past was the past, she said, and that’s where she wanted to leave it.
I got the impression she wasn’t particularly proud of her pop heritage.
She struck me as someone who liked to look forward rather than back.
So we parted company there and off she went.
We made our nostalgia series without her.
‘But then in January we were approached by Sky to produce a similar series – but less documentary-style, this time, and more MTV-video-jock style, and it occurred to me that Bee would make a fantastic presenter. She was a beautiful woman and so charismatic. It surprised me that someone hadn’t already asked her.
So I phoned her and couldn’t get through on her mobile.
I phoned a number of times during those few days.
Really frustrating. You know – we had a deadline, we had to get the project off the ground, and I needed confirmation from Bee that she was interested.
But I never managed to get in touch. And, you know, she didn’t have an agent or anything.
So I had to leave it. Go with someone else.
And the next thing I heard of Bee was that she’d …
died.’ He held out his hands, helplessly.
Flint looked at him, his eyes slanted with anger.
He’d known it. With every fibre of his body.
From the first moment he’d set eyes on that photograph of him, yesterday morning, he’d known he was a slimy bastard.
And now he’d proved it. Lying. He was lying.
Flint’s hand went to the buckle of Ana’s rucksack, where the packet of photos was currently residing.
Ana’s eyes darted to his hand and then to his eyes. She nodded imperceptibly.
‘So,’ began Ana, looking Ed squarely in the eye, ‘you’ve only actually met Bee once?’
‘Unfortunately for me – yes.’ His eyes darted away from hers, and he focused on Shona, who’d just walked back in with a big yellow mug full of steaming jasmine tea. ‘Aah, Shona, wonderful. Thank you. Yes – just the once, though as I say, I’d rather I’d known her better.’
‘Are you sure there wasn’t more to your relationship?’ asked Ana, watching Flint slip the photos from her bag.
‘Absolutely,’ he grimaced, taking a big slurp of tea, far too quickly, and burning his mouth in the process. ‘Ow, shit,’ he hissed, letting the mug clank heavily on to his desk and covering his lips with a hand.
‘So, it’s quite strange then, wouldn’t you say, that you appear to have been on holiday with her?
To India?’ Flint got to his feet and let the photos fall on the desk in front of Ed.
Flint watched Ed closely, could almost see the various options running through his mind until, eventually, his face slumped with the realization that there was nothing he could say to negate the fact that he’d been lying.
‘Aaah,’ he said finally, picking up the picture of himself and looking at it. ‘I see.’
‘OK,’ said Flint going back to the sofa, ‘can we start this conversation again, please?’
Ed sighed and let his face fall on to his fist. ‘It was her idea,’ he began. ‘She insisted on keeping the whole thing secret. I wanted to go public months earlier, but she wouldn’t let me. If there was one thing you could say about Bee, it was that she liked to keep her life compartmentalized.’
‘So,’ said Ana impatiently, ‘what was going on?’
‘Well – we were. We were going on. But I was – am – married. That’s why I was so cagey when I spoke to you yesterday. My wife was standing right next to me. And I would have left her – Tina – I was prepared to leave her from the minute I met Bee, but she kept putting me off, she wouldn’t let me.’
‘How long?’ said Ana. ‘How long did you two …?’
Ed sighed, opened a drawer, pulled out a packet of cigarettes, offered them around, lit one, exhaled. ‘Three years.’
‘Three years?’ said Flint, incredulously.
‘Uh-huh.’
‘So you were together? When she lived in Belsize Park?’
‘Yup. I paid the rent on that place, in fact.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes – well, I spent a lot of time there and she was always short of cash so … you know, it wasn’t like I was paying her or anything. It was just a practical arrangement.’
‘Is that why she moved out?’
Ed shrugged. ‘I don’t know. The money probably. And maybe she was looking for some kind of fresh start. Or something …’
‘And how did you meet?’
‘Well, that’s the thing, you see. That’s the thing …’
‘What thing?’ asked Ana, impatiently.
‘The way we met – it’s got everything to do with why she wouldn’t let me into her life, why she wouldn’t let me leave my wife.’
‘What was it?’
Ed shook his head. ‘I can’t,’ he said, ‘I can’t tell you. I always swore to Bee, swore I’d never tell anyone. I can’t …’
Flint felt himself running out of patience – and he was a very patient man.
He got to his feet again. ‘Listen,’ he said, using his bulk rather than raising his voice to intimidate Ed, ‘Bee’s dead.
And we’ve got no idea why. And you seem to know a whole load of shit about her life that even her closest friends and family’ – he nodded towards Ana – ‘didn’t know about.
If you’ve got any respect for us and for Bee you’ll tell us what you know. ’
Ed shook his head again. ‘No,’ he said, simply, ‘I can’t. I made her a promise.’
‘Did it have something to do with you? Bee’s death? Huh?’ Flint could feel a rage building and tried to swallow it. He felt a hand on his bare arm. It was Ana.
‘Look,’ she began soothingly, addressing Ed, ‘has this got anything to do with Zander?’
Ed started. ‘What?’ he said. ‘You know? You know about Zander?’
Flint heard Ana breathe in. ‘Uh-huh, yeah – we know about Zander.’
Flint had stopped breathing. Brilliant, he thought to himself admiringly, what a brilliant manoeuvre.
‘Well, then, you don’t need me to tell you anything else, do you?’ There was sweat rolling down Ed’s temples and along his jawline. He was finding this whole experience deeply stressful.
Flint looked at Ana. ‘Well, yes – we do actually. Like how can we find him? How can we get to talk to him?’
‘No,’ said Ed, bluntly, ‘no way. I only ever met him once. Her son was her own affair, and she hated the idea of anyone else having anything to do with him. So, no – leave well alone. Trust me. Zander’s a difficult boy – very angry, very …
cruel. He wouldn’t take kindly to being unearthed.
And he’s fine where he is. Leave him alone. Really. Trust me …’
Flint sat down. Ana looked at him and then back at Ed. ‘Bee didn’t have a son,’ she said.
‘Try telling that to Zander,’ sighed Ed.
‘No – but really – she didn’t.’
‘Look – you’ve just told me that you knew next to nothing about your sister. So take it from me. She had a son. His name is Zander. He’s fifteen.’
‘No no no,’ said Flint, getting to his feet, ‘that’s bollocks.
That is such bollocks. I’ve known Bee for more than fifteen years.
I’ve known her, see, and she was never pregnant.
Ever.’ Flint was starting to sweat now, as he began to doubt his own recollection of the major life events of his closest friends.
Ed shrugged. ‘What can I say? She had a son. I met him once. He existed. Sometimes it’s impossible to know everything about your friends.’
‘Yes, but – there’s secrets and then there’s going around with a fucking great lump in your frock for nine months. I mean – Bee was only tiny – I’d have noticed.’
‘Maybe she went away? Maybe she had her baby somewhere else?’
‘No,’ said Flint, ‘no, because she never went anywhere. Never went anywhere for longer than a couple of weeks and no – because that was 1986, see, and 1986 was the year that … well … No way – there’s no way …’
Ed shrugged again and sighed, and Flint wanted to hit him.
How could this small, smug man, sitting here in his poncey handbag of an office, this little weasel who’d known Bee for, like, two seconds, possibly think he had anything to say on the subject of Bee Bearhorn?
And particularly on the subject of Bee Bearhorn circa 1986, which Flint happened to know had been the worst year of Bee’s life and a year in which they had been almost inseparable.
Ana put her hand on his arm again. Soft, fluttery hands. ‘What happened to him – to Zander?’ she asked Ed. ‘Why was he disabled?’
Ed shrugged. ‘Just came out that way, I suppose. He was in a home from birth, as far as I know. Bee only regained contact three years ago. Around the time that I met her.’
‘And where did you meet her, exactly?’
‘At the children’s home. Where Zander was living.
I was there making a documentary, and she was visiting Zander.
That was when I met him – the only time I met him.
Look,’ he said, ‘I’m not going to tell you where to find him, but I’ll tell you everything else.
About Bee. And Zander. Everything I know. OK?’
Ana glanced at Flint and then nodded. ‘Sure,’ she said, ‘OK.’
Ed sat up. ‘Let’s get some lunch. Japanese all right?’