Chapter 19
We used to play the drinking game ‘I Have Never’ when I was at university. I never did very well. Maybe I would do better now. Exhibit A: I’d never banged on an aristocrat’s door at two in the morning before. But here we are.
Simon hung back, looking like he was about to cut and run. Or more exactly, like he was desperately trying not to shit his pants.
Frankly, I couldn’t care less. He was pissing me off something chronic, and I wanted this over and done with.
There was no answer, so I banged again.
A light went on in the furthest reaches of Guy’s ‘cottage’, which was bigger than Wales.
In about twenty minutes, when whatever staff Guy had reached the front door, we’d be let in. I was glad for the break. It was a hot evening, and even though I’d finally stripped off the jacket and gloves I’d worn to leave no trace at Riz’s, I was still boiling, waves of sweat cascading off me.
The door opened, and Guy stood there in a blue silk dressing gown, with not much on underneath. He was rubbing his eyes and looked pretty fucked off at being roused from his dreams.
“Good.” I barged past him as he began to say something. Probably some obfuscating comments. More inane pleasantries.
“We need to talk,” I snapped.
“It’s 2 a.m.,” he said as he followed me into whichever room I was going into. “What the hell are you doing … Simon? Why are you hovering outside? What on earth is going on?”
“Come inside, Simon,” I said and walked into … I think it was some sort of living room antechamber. “The three of us need a conflab.”
Simon entered meekly. Well, as meekly as a man with shoulders that broad can. Guy tightened his dressing gown a little more, which was a relief as the sight of his sculpted golden skin was distracting me from my anger. And I wanted the anger. Anger was so much more useful than horniness.
“Right, straight to it. There is something between you two and Jed, something that may or may not have been the cause of Jed landing in hospital with half his skull cracked in, of photos of you getting fucked six ways from Sunday by Tarquin being leaked, and even more possibly, of Simon’s fiancé getting killed.
I don’t know what it is, but Jed wants to tell everyone, whereas Simon, here, clams up like a top having his arsehole played with every time we broach the subject. So why don’t you tell us, Guy?”
Guy’s eyes darted around the room. “I … Arden, what the fuck is going on?” Guy hardly swore, even in private, so he must be confused and annoyed.
I didn’t care. “What did you three do?” I yelled.
That got his attention. He and Simon shared a look. Slowly, oh so slowly, Guy morphed from befuddled and half asleep to politician-in-waiting. “Arden, let’s take a seat.”
“Nope!” I yelled. “I don’t know about you, Guy. But I found a dead body a couple of weeks ago, and you bastards know something about what caused it, and yet, no one is coming forward. So, I’m done with being polite.”
Guy took a seat, still looking at Simon. He gestured for me to do so as well. “Let’s not yell, it’s late. You’re clearly emotional.”
“Fuck off,” I snapped.
“Arden,” Guy said, using a voice I hadn’t heard from him before.
“Don’t speak like that to me in my own home.
Please, take a seat, and let’s discuss this like adults.
” I recognised the voice; it was his public-school voice, his landed gentry voice, his lord of the manor voice.
The one that said No, peasant, you do what I tell you to do. You don’t give the orders around here.
The very idea of it made my skin crawl. Instantly, I hated him. The fact that he’d asked me out twice was laughable right now. We were from different worlds. Actually, I was from a different world from him, Simon, and everyone else in this fucking village. Why did I keep forgetting that?
He and Simon were still sharing a look. I took a seat, but I wasn’t happy about it. I was fuming, I was pissed off, and I wanted to punch something.
After a long time, Guy spoke. “A connection between Jed, me, and Simon. Yes, there is one; we are all friends. Simon may not act like it, but he and I are great friends. I know, his demeanour is as confusing to me as it is to everyone else. Sometimes I think I imagine his friendship when I receive one of those scowls – just like now. But we are. And we are friends with Jed. The three of us had a little club.”
“A club?” I asked.
“A nicer way of saying we were drinking buddies.” Guy waved his hand. “To put it bluntly, Jed and Simon would come over and the three of us would get shitfaced on expensive booze.”
“There’s more,” I said.
“I mean, we got very drunk,” Guy said. “We acted like students.”
“There’s more. So, you guys binge drank every once in a while? Big whoop. That doesn’t lead to you all getting your lives ruined.”
A flash passed through Guy’s eyes. I could tell he was cooking something up.
“Don’t lie to me,” I warned.
Simon put his hand on Guy’s shoulder. “I’ll tell him.” They shared another glance. “Arden, look, you know Riz and I were open. Guy and I have had an arrangement for a few years.”
I cocked my head.
“Since I moved here. It’s always been casual. When we needed a release.”
Jesus Christ. Was every gay man I slept with part of some endless conga line of dicks?
“And once, on one of those nights, Guy and I got a bit carried away, and Jed saw a bit too much. He put two and two together and got five and thought there was more to it than there was.”
“He is a vicar,” Guy said. “Despite his foibles, he believes, deep down, that sex should be for couples.”
I got up and paced the room. Because it was either that or I started laughing until they sent me to the Funny Farm because I might never stop.
The entire connection was that Jed had once walked in on Guy and Simon going at it because they were friends with benefits?
This was a lie. And I was tired.
The antechamber we sat in was big enough to get a fair bit of speed up while pacing, but my legs felt like lead.
I sighed. “Fine, fucking hell, whatever. When you’re ready to be honest, let me know.
In the meantime, I’m going home.” I left without saying anything else.
They could lie all they wanted; I wasn’t interested.
There was more to this, and I wanted nothing to do with it any longer.
Slamming the door of Guy’s house, I stalked back to my car. I expected Simon to follow me out so I waited a few seconds. Nothing. No footsteps. He was probably already fucking Guy again.
Was this what dating in your thirties was like – an endless parade of people who had barely finished having sex with someone else trying to have sex with you?
If I had known how interconnected Guy, Tarquin, Simon, and God knows who else were, would I have become involved with any of them? Probably not, to be honest.
I started my car and drove home. Kennedy was waiting for me when I got there.
Safely ensconced at my cottage, I switched my phone back on and let any messages come through as I got ready for bed. A voicemail from Sonia.
Despite the heat, I curled up under the covers with Kennedy. I decided I’d listen to the message tomorrow.
That damn piece of paper.
Answers, all this meant that I needed answers.
The next day was thankfully cooler. Several degrees lower than previous days, which was a blessed relief.
The weather forecast said the temperature would skyrocket back up over the week.
But thankfully for one Sunday, it was overcast and mild.
After a day of throwing myself into work to avoid any thoughts of men and their annoying traits, Kennedy made himself known at around 4 p.m.
The sky was darkening, with the prospect of a thunderstorm.
But my dog was carrying his lead around the house. “Walkies time, is it?” I said and slammed my laptop shut. “Good idea, boy.” I gave his fur a ruffle and got a tongue loll.
“You’re the only man I could ever love,” I told him. Which was completely unhealthy.
We went to the top of the garden and turned right, heading towards the crest of the hill and then along the path to Winterborne Minster, which was my new favourite route. Mostly because it avoided Lilbury.
At the crest of the hill, man, and dog both stood surveying the lie of the land. “I think we should move, Kenny,” I told him. “How does the Outer Hebrides sound?”
The tongue loll I received was not a definitive answer.
There’s a pretty bit of the lane to Winterborne where trees overhang it on both sides, and it becomes very closed off, forming a canopy. You feel as if you’re in a magical pixie kingdom. Some kind of Lilliputian fantasy.
Over the past few weeks, it’d been delightfully cool there compared to other parts of the walk, but today we didn’t need the respite. However, force of habit now saw me tramping down the small hill towards it, with Kenny beside me.
There were few cars on this road. Why, all last week, I hadn’t seen a single one. There were probably fewer today with the overcast weather giving people an excuse to stay at home for the first time in weeks.
We trotted our way down, and I clicked Kenny back on his lead after we’d climbed the fence.
I was whistling a tuneless ditty, and Kenny was exploring some new places he hadn’t sniffed.
I wasn’t thinking about Simon or Guy … ahem, I wasn’t thinking about …
certain people. I wasn’t fixating on whether my career was about to go up in smoke; I wasn’t worrying about Ollie.
Nope, my brain was empty. And that’s where it all went wrong.
The birds were chirping, and the sun was trying to peek out of the clouds as we made our way through the trees. Far in the distance, I heard a car’s engine and made a mental note to walk closer to the edge in a minute or so when it got to us.