Chapter Fifteen
Just before he got into the car with Ben, Jason pulled me aside. ‘Jem, got something to tell ya.’
‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’ The drive over had contained a lot of silences. Ben was clearly waiting for me to talk, to share my soul with him as he’d shared his with me. What the hell was I going to do?
‘Nah. Why, you offering to impregnate me? ’Cos I’d give good money for that if I din’t think your Mr Davies would rip me head off and shove the mushy end up me shitter.’ Jase looked around. ‘Where’s Rosie?’
‘Giving Harry his tea. What is it?’
Jason put his mouth to my ear. ‘Took a trip out to Harrogate today. Had a picture to deliver so I took the van—’ a head-jerk towards Jason’s horrible, fuel-guzzling Land Rover. ‘Be glad to get the car back, I mean yeah the van’s useful, but bloody hell it don’t pull nothing but sheep. Anyhoo. While I was over there — yeah, awright mate! Keep yer wig on.’ This shouted across to Ben who was leaning his elbow on the horn of the little car and making hurry up motions with both hands. ‘Popped around to Saskia’s little shop, din’t I? And guess what I found? Round the back someone’s been having a great big bonfire. There was empty boxes piled all over an’ a lovely big mess of burned-up paper.’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘Three guesses wot it was she’d bin burning? And two of ’em are a waste of time.’
‘Rosie’s cards?’
‘Got it in one, my love.’
‘And the staff let you see this?’
Jason looked sideways under his hair. ‘Aw, come on . This is me you’re talking to! What kinda sex symbol would I be if I couldn’t charm a few little shop assistants? And, incidentally whilst taking a little peep out in the yard, getting one helluva shag off Saskia’s mate, Christine. Now there is one hungry lady. And, I may add, one who used to be an actress.’
‘What?’
‘Do we know anyone who might, possibly, have needed someone to pretend , just as a joke you understand, to be — oh, I dunno, a social worker, say? To pop round to someone’s house and tell them that their baby wasn’t being looked after proper?’
I gawped at him. ‘What, and you got this out of her while you were screwing? Your sex talk needs a lot of work.’
He waggled his eyebrows. ‘We got chatting, all right?’
‘Before or after?’
‘Hey, I don’t just love ’em and leave ’em, I put the hours in. And a few other things I could mention . . .’ He rubbed at his crotch.
‘I don’t know whether to admire you or despise you totally.’
‘Just don’t tell Rosie, thass all. Saskia’s still got her churning those cards out like there’s some kinda world shortage. You tell her it’s just so that Saskia can warm her chilly tits I reckon she might go into meltdown.’ And with a little skipping run Jason took off towards the Audi, where he and Ben could be seen greeting each other with blokey slaps.
I went into the cottage to find Rosie spooning mush into Harry’s happily open mouth. ‘You look like a mother blackbird.’
‘Believe me, worms would be cheaper.’ Rosie put down the spoon and turned around. ‘But the health visitor said he’s such a hungry baby, weaning would be the best thing. Wow, Jem. You look — different.’
‘You only saw me this morning.’ Self-consciously I raked my hands through my hair and smoothed my cheeks. ‘How different?’
‘I don’t know. Sort of glowy.’ She covered her mouth slowly. ‘Oh, God. Does this mean you and Ben . . . ? Oh, Jem, is he absolutely fabulous?’
‘No, he’s a complete pain in the arse,’ I retorted, thinking of Ben’s irritating attractiveness.
‘Pain in the . . . oh.’ Rosie blew out a long breath. ‘You mean — anal sex?’
‘You spend far too long with Jason, do you know that? Ben and I, we’re just friends. He’s been—’ how to describe what had gone on between Ben and me? — ‘unburdening himself in my direction, that’s all. And,’ I added hastily. ‘Not in a wanky way, either. God, we both spend too much time with Jase.’
Rosie shrugged and turned back to Harry, loaded spoon back in hand. ‘All I’ll say is that something is making you pink-cheeked like you’ve been lit up from inside. I’m not going to pry into what’s been going on, apart from asking what the hell all that stuff about a fire was.’
I explained about Ben’s shop, watching Rosie look more and more distressed as I went on. ‘But there’s a good side,’ I put in quickly, seeing the tears start up in her eyes. ‘Ben’s asked me to stay at his place for a while. So you could put Harry into his cot in my room. It’d give you a bit more space and you won’t have to worry about him rolling himself out of the carry-cot any more.’
Harry grabbed at the spoon, annoyed at the slow service. A kind of porridgey slush flicked over Rosie and me, and she began dipping the spoon back into the jar in jerky little movements. ‘You aren’t telling me everything, are you?’ A quick look at my guilty expression. ‘If you and Ben aren’t screwing fit to bust there must be something else going on. Blokes like him, they don’t just ask women to stay. Not without some kind of Special Services. Is it something to do with the fire?’
Without saying anything I reached into the pocket of my jeans. Drew out what I’d found lying in the rubble and discarded papers outside Ben’s shop. Uncurled my hand and showed it to her.
‘Yeah that’s one of the seed heads I use for my cards.’ Her attention went back to Harry again.
‘I found it. Underneath some of the stuff the fire brigade had piled up outside the shop.’
‘At Ben’s?’ Rosie’s eyes met mine and I saw understanding slowly dawn. ‘What? You think . . . ?’ I dropped the pink-sprayed seed head onto the table. ‘But that’s stupid. Why on earth would Saskia set fire to Ben’s shop? That’s — yes, it’s more than stupid, it’s ridiculous.’ She lifted Harry from his seat.
‘I know.’ I chucked Harry stickily under the chin. ‘It’s just circumstantial. And maybe I’m seeing ghosts that don’t exist. But, and I hesitate to make this dreadful pun because I’m not Jason, there’s no smoke without fire. And now, I’m going to pop over to the workshop to collect some bits and pieces. Thought I might have a crack at making something specific for Saskia’s shop. Maybe a tiara?’
Rosie sniggered, falling into step alongside me, Harry winding sticky fingers into her hair. ‘Tiara! Mind you I reckon she already thinks she’s Victoria Beckham.’
‘You’ve seen the house, she probably does. But Alex is so far off being David Beckham it’s amusing.’
The sniggering stopped as we approached the barn. ‘You will still keep coming over here, won’t you?’
‘’Course.’ I unlocked the main door and went into the office. ‘I’ll need some sane company anyway and because I’m referring to you and Jason as sane company I hope you’ll infer that Ben is not exactly Mr Stability.’
‘Yeah, well, stability can be boring as hell.’ Rosie’s voice vanished into Jason’s workshop as she searched for Harry’s chair. ‘Conventional is over-rated. I reckon a fling with a rock star would set you up nicely.’
‘He’s not a rock star.’
‘He was. He’ll still be raking in the royalties. Might be again one day if you can persuade him to pick up a guitar once more. Never know your luck, Jem, you could be looking at a life on the road.’
My heart squeezed. ‘Not going to happen.’ I opened my e-mail.
‘The fling? Come on, wake up and hear the music, the guy is so hot for you that he’s going to spontaneously combust if you give him the push.’ She saw my expression, tinged blue by the light of the screen. ‘What’s up?’
My throat was burning and I had to whisper. ‘Look.’ I turned the screen around to face her. ‘Someone has reported me for fraud. Repeatedly not delivering goods that have been paid for. eBay are suspending my listing.’
I sobbed into Rosie’s ample shoulder. She patted my back as though I was Harry. ‘Oh, Jem.’
‘ I’ve done nothing wrong .’ Couldn’t tell her that without eBay I had no way of selling anything when I moved on. That I’d been relying on sales from the internet to keep me going while I set up somewhere new. And then it wasn’t just that, it was everything. It was Ben and his awful secret, his fragility, and my knowledge that I wanted him so much all I could do was run away. ‘ Now what am I going to do?’
‘If you need some cash I could lend you—’
‘It’s not just the money. It’s — oh, Rosie, I don’t know what I’m doing. Ben is . . .’ Ben is everything. Everything that I’m afraid of, everything I’ve ever wanted. All those secret desires that I’ve hidden for so long underneath so many layers that now even I don’t recognise them.
‘He’s told you why he quit the band?’
I could only nod against her shoulder.
‘And it’s not drugs?’
A head-shake, which spread snot along her dress.
‘You could take it to the papers.’
I jerked my head away from her. ‘Rosie!’
She smiled. ‘Yeah, thought so. For God’s sake, just tell him . Tell him you’re in love with him. Everything else will work itself out.’
‘Is that experience talking?’
Another smile, achingly sad this time. ‘Afraid so. It’s just that sometimes things take longer to work out.’
‘Anyway, who says I’m in love with him?’ I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand.
‘Jemima, you’re broke and you won’t sell the most valuable thing you’ve got. The information about Ben. There’s press and music papers and fans, they’d all pay really good money for the inside story on the Philadelphia débacle. But you won’t even think of it.’ She shook her head and the section of her hair which wasn’t covered in porridge bounced around her face. ‘If that ain’t love, well.’
‘When I wasn’t here did you get visited by the Wisdom Fairy?’
‘Only Jason, and he’s not eligible on the first count. I think the second might be negotiable. Just do it, what have you got to lose?’
Only my freedom , I thought. My ability to run, to get out whenever things get awkward .
Nothing I could articulate. I looked at Harry jiggling his legs until his bouncy chair rocked on its thin metal suspension. ‘You still being hard work for your mum?’
She sighed. ‘He’s not so bad really. It’s just the sheer volume of work I’ve got. Saskia seems to be cornering the market in hand-made cards, but she pays well and I can’t turn her down. Besides, she’s got me working so hard I’ve had to drop all my other customers and my chances of getting them back if she dumps me are remote. I have to keep going.’ Another sigh. ‘I wanted to start taking Harry to the mother-and-baby group in the village, but there just isn’t time. I feel as though I can’t enjoy him properly, can’t enjoy being a mother.’
Half-heartedly I began collecting all my beads and crystals and wires together. ‘It won’t go on forever,’ I said, thinking about a bonfire behind a shop, all Rosie’s hard work going up in flames. Ben’s shop burning. Saskia, sitting in the middle of it all like a spider in a web. No, more like a bloated puppeteer, pulling strings and watching us dance. ‘Something has to give.’
* * *
22nd May
She looks at me now and I feel transparent, like my bones, my hair are all invisible and she can see right inside to the fear and the loneliness, almost like she touches me where the blackness hides and makes it all right.
Shut up. Not like that. You are fucking filthy, doctor, you know that? We’re not. Not that I don’t want it, Christ, waist down I’m like concrete, but she’s . . . she’s not ready. Doesn’t push me away but . . . it’s almost like she’s a virgin or something. Scared of what’ll happen if we get down to it.
I can wait. I’d wait forever if she asked me to. I just wish she’d feel she could talk to me, wish I knew what it was that frightens her so. Because not knowing means I can’t help. And I want to take away that expression she gets sometimes when she thinks I’m not looking. It’s part fear and part . . . I dunno, a kind of deep sorrow, like she thinks I’m about to chuck her onto the street or something. Like she wants to be with me, wants it to be more than just this kind of flat-share thing we’ve got going on. Like she’s memorising my face, my clothes, as if Crimewatch is reconstructing me next week and I don’t know about it yet. And yet . . . she makes me feel like nothing matters. I’m still me, still Baz Davies, still the best fucking lyricist of the twenty-first century (hey, that’s NME talking). She pulls me up beyond it all, like she’s pulling me out of the shit and the dark and up, back on top of the world, where I used to be. Okay, I don’t get what people say — so what? I do pretty well for a guy that’s stone deaf. Hey, look, I can say it! I am deaf. Can’t hear a note. And it doesn’t hurt like it did.
Jemima. I’d give you this whole messed-up planet if you asked.