‘I know,’ she said.
‘You know?’
‘I guessed.’
‘Was it so obvious?’
‘Yes. To me, anyway. The way he stares at you, follows you with his eyes. So why didn’t you?’
‘I didn’t feel right about it,’ I said. I wanted to talk to Sonia but not mention Hayden; wanted to tell her without telling her; wanted her advice without her knowing what she was advising me about.
‘He’s nice.’
‘Too nice, maybe. Too eager. He’s the kind of guy you always call when you want something fixed.’
‘Is that such a bad thing?’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘You mean there’s something in you that’s drawn to men who aren’t nice, sensitive, respectful, gentle like Neal?’
‘It’s not how I want to be.’ It was easier to have this kind of conversation in the car, with both of us gazing ahead at the road. ‘Why is it so hard to talk about?’
‘Is it just Neal that’s prompted this?’
‘Kind of.’ I watched the hedges, fields, cows standing peacefully together at the fence. ‘My father used to hit my mother. Did I ever tell you that?’ I knew I hadn’t – I never told anyone. Just saying the words out loud made me feel slightly dizzy.
Sonia gave me a quick glance. I felt my fading bruise ache and a flush spread over me. ‘No, you didn’t,’ she replied softly. ‘But I’m glad you have now.’
‘I tell you things I thought I’d never be able to tell anyone.’
‘Thank you.’ Her voice was grave, comforting.
‘You won’t tell anyone?’
‘You don’t even need to ask that.’
‘Not even Amos?’
‘Not even Amos. It’s your secret, not mine.’
‘Yes.’
‘So you’re scared of repeating the pattern.’
‘I guess. Yes.’
‘And do you?’
‘Maybe.’ I thought of his fist on my face. ‘I don’t want to.’
‘Yet I don’t think you’re the submissive type,’ she said. ‘In fact, I’d say that you’re the one who is usually in control.’
It was my turn to look at her. ‘Have you been talking to Amos about me?’
‘No.’
‘Sonia?’
‘He’s mentioned you. Obviously. You were with each other for a long time. You’re his history – he can’t not talk about it to me. I’m sure you can understand that. Though of course it’s strange.’
‘You and Amos…’ I paused, waiting for her to fill in the gap, and when she didn’t, I finished: ‘Are you properly together now?’
‘Do you mind?’
‘Why should I?’
‘We don’t need to play games. Amos and I…’
‘If you and Amos are together, I’m very pleased for you.’ Was I? It wasn’t that I wanted Amos myself, but there was something strange about one of my closest friends being with my long-term partner. Something almost incestuous.
‘And you really mean that?’
‘Really,’ I said, meeting her sceptical gaze. ‘I’m glad. Just don’t talk to each other about me, that’s all. I mean, do. Of course you will. Just don’t tell me about it.’
At the end of Sally’s road I stopped. ‘I’ll go first. You wait for a couple of minutes.’
‘Why?’
‘So no one knows.’
‘Knows what?’
I smiled at him and kissed his lips. ‘Nothing.’
They were all there, waiting.
‘Where’ve you been?’ asked Amos. ‘You’re supposed to be the group leader.’
‘That makes us sound like the Brownies.’
‘Where’s Hayden?’ asked Joakim.
‘Shut
up
about Hayden,’ said Guy, turning on him. His neck had gone puce.
‘But what –’
‘Just shut it.’
Sally burst out of the kitchen bearing a cake. She had done something to her hair and was wearing lipstick. As she came towards me I smelled her perfume. ‘Where’s Hayden?’ she said.
‘Here I am,’ said Hayden, entering the room. ‘Hi, everyone. Were you waiting for me? Sally, you look very nice today. Why, hello, Bonnie!’ He gave an exaggerated start of surprise. ‘How are you today?’ His slow grin undressed me in front of everyone.
‘Let’s get on,’ I turned away from him. Neal was looking at Hayden and then at me. It was as though I could actually see the knowledge enter him like a poison. He knew. And, as our eyes locked, I could see that he realized I had understood this.
‘Who wants cake?’ asked Sally, brightly. ‘Coffee and walnut. Bonnie?’
‘Not just now.’
‘I’ll have some,’ said Hayden. He took a large piece and put half of it into his mouth, chewing and then swallowing it as everyone watched him. He licked his fingers.
‘Neal?’
‘No.’ His voice was soft and tired. I turned away so I wouldn’t have to see his face but I sensed his eyes on me.
‘What have you done to your face?’ Amos asked.
‘It’s nothing,’ I said lightly.
‘You should see the other guy,’ Neal said. It was meant as a joke but it came out too loud and harsh. There was a silence.
‘I fell against the bathtub,’ I said. ‘It hardly even hurts any more.’
‘It’s yellow.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Shall we start?’ Joakim was tuning his fiddle. Its pure high notes hung in the room.
‘Ready, Sonia?’ I asked.
She nodded and let her arms fall to her sides, palms turned slightly outwards in her singing position.
‘Sonia’s going to show us how “It Had To Be You” should be sung,’ I said.
‘She has a voice like smoke and velvet,’ said Hayden.
‘Why, how nice of you, Hayden,’ Sonia said ironically.
‘Very sexy.’
I could feel Amos bristling in the corner. The room seemed clammy. Out of the window I could see Richard and Lola in the garden. He was dead-heading the roses and she was squatting on the ground, peering intently at the soil. It looked so cool and clean out there, away from the hot, thick air inside. My hands were damp and little drops of sweat ran down my chest. I wanted to be somewhere far away, somewhere green and peaceful and empty of squabbling people.
‘On the count of three,’ I said. ‘Let’s channel some Billie Holiday.’
After
The phone rang loudly beside me, jolting me from crowded dreams. Still only half awake, I put out a hand, found the phone and brought it to my ear. ‘Yes?’ I said.
‘Bonnie, it’s me. Sally.’
‘What time is it?’
‘Just before seven o’clock.’
‘What’s wrong? Is Lola OK?’
‘I’ve phoned the police.’
‘Why?’
‘I told them I wanted to report Hayden missing.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he’s missing.’
I tried to think clearly and make myself react as an ordinary person would. ‘Not missing in a phone-the-police way, Sally. We checked his flat. He’s probably just moved on.’
‘I’ve done it now. I can’t undo it. Will you come with me?’
I couldn’t come up with a convincing excuse to get out of it. Perhaps it would be useful to be there and hear what Sally had to say. After I’d hung up, I tried to think. My brain felt like a wheel turning uselessly in mud, deeper and deeper. Sally had gone to the police. What did that mean? Would they start investigating Hayden’s disappearance or simply dismiss her worries as the hysterical suspicions of an infatuated woman? Would they want to talk to people? To us? To me? And what would I say? Would they go to the flat and look for clues? If I’d managed to leave my jacket there, hung casually over the back of the chair, what else had I left, overlooked, forgotten, mismanaged, slipped up on? Were my fingerprints on everything? Had he told people about us? I thought I’d covered everything up but I suddenly realized I was absurdly deluded. Clues would surface that I couldn’t even imagine. Single strands of hair could be enough to convict someone. My hair would be on his pillow, my sweat on his towels, on his sheets, my fingerprints on his mugs and glasses, my image on a CCTV camera somewhere. Maybe there’d been a lens pointed at us when we’d slid Hayden’s body into the reservoir’s dark waters. You can’t go unnoticed. I’d stand in a line-up and someone I’d never seen before would point their finger and say: ‘Her. She’s the one. Yes. Without a doubt.’
I told myself to calm down. What could they discover? As long as Sonia didn’t say anything, nothing could incriminate me. Could I trust Sonia, though? Surely I could. She was my friend. And, anyway, if she told anyone, she’d be incriminating herself as well as me. But someone else knew something. They had to, or why would they have sent my satchel back to me? My satchel full of all the things I’d left in the flat, and the necklace belonging to Sally. What did it mean? Something was happening and I didn’t know what it was. Things were waiting to ambush me, nasty surprises lurking round corners and behind doors.
I put on a pair of denim shorts and a stripy top. I looked androgynous and undeveloped, like a teenage boy just before he hits the spotty adolescent phase, or one of those rag dolls with flaxen hair and floppy legs. I studied myself in the mirror. What had Hayden seen when he had stared at me so intently? Who had he seen? Why had he wanted me so urgently?
I drank two cups of black coffee and poured myself a bowl of cornflakes before discovering the milk had gone off. I felt suddenly and violently hungry but there was nothing else to eat, except a tin of sweetcorn in the cupboard. I opened that and had a couple of large spoonfuls, but it wasn’t a very satisfying breakfast and, anyway, hungry as I was, I also felt sick.
Sally, when she arrived, was dressed as though for a job interview in black trousers that were too tight for her, a black tailored jacket and a white shirt. Her hair was tied up and she wore small gold studs in her ears.
‘You look smart.’
She grimaced. ‘You must think I’m an idiot.’
‘Not at all. Come in. I can offer you coffee without milk, or tea, also without milk.’
‘Coffee, please.’
We sat at my little table and she burbled about a broken night, then stopped abruptly, tears welling up in her eyes. ‘This is a farce. You know, don’t you?’
‘Know what?’ Of course I knew, but knowing wasn’t the same as hearing it spoken.
‘About Hayden.’
‘Tell me,’ I said, straining to keep my voice steady. I felt my features harden into a parody of a normal expression.
‘It’s why I went to the police. He can’t just have disappeared. I don’t believe it. He wouldn’t do that. He would have said something to me, I know he would.’ But she made the statement sound like a question, then gave a small, tearful laugh. ‘I’m not being very coherent, am I? Sorry. It’s just so – I’m all over the place, if you really want to know. Do you have a tissue?’
I went to the bathroom and returned with a toilet roll that I handed over.
‘I wanted to tell you before. I knew you wouldn’t be judgemental. But I felt – I felt so ashamed. And so happy too. Alive for the first time in ages. He made me feel alive.’
‘Hayden did?’
‘Yes. Sorry. We had a – a thing together. Maybe you knew about it anyway – at the time, I mean. I thought it might be obvious.’
‘Not until the necklace.’
‘The thing is, he was so nice to me. Stupid word. “Nice” isn’t a word to use about someone like him. From the very first moment I met him, he made me feel special, as if he really saw me – not Sally the housewife, not Sally the mother, but
me
. He said I was gorgeous. Do you know how long it is since someone told me that? You know, when you have a kid, you just disappear. Richard goes to work in the morning and comes back in the evening and he’s tired and I’m tired and we don’t really talk about anything except arrangements, and I can’t remember the last time we had sex. And all my friends – even you, Bonnie, and it’s not your fault – you’re out there in the world, falling in love and having fun and earning money, and it feels as if all that’s over for me. I’ve been going around down in the dumps, with greasy hair and stained jumpers and bags under my eyes, and suddenly this man comes along and makes me feel wanted again. Do you know what I mean?’
‘Yes.’ But I didn’t want to think about it, or imagine the two of them together. I’d go mad if I thought about that.
‘I love Lola and I wouldn’t be without her. And I love Richard too. In a way. But we don’t notice each other any more. Then along comes Hayden. You know what he’s like.’
I made an indeterminate noise and gulped some coffee, though I already felt jittery with too much caffeine.
‘He ate my cakes and drank my tea and told me I was lovely – that I
looked
lovely. He laughed at things I said, and took Lola off my hands, and asked me questions about myself as if he really wanted to know the answer, and it was like being a teenager again – you know, butterflies in my stomach. Before he came along, I just wanted to sleep all the time. I was so tired I felt I could sleep for days on end and still be tired. Suddenly I felt full of energy, fizzing.’
‘So you had an affair.’ My voice sounded dry as dead leaves.
‘You couldn’t really call it that.’ Sally’s voice wobbled. ‘That makes it sound important. It was only twice. And it wasn’t even as if it ended – nothing happened, he still smiled at me and touched my hand and behaved as if I was special, he just didn’t do anything about it any more.’
‘When did all this happen?’ I wanted to know if we had overlapped.
But Sally didn’t answer. Instead, she said earnestly, ‘I think he’s a damaged person. Something must have hurt him once and now he’s – Well… I don’t blame him. I think it did mean something to him. I’m sure it did. It must have. Maybe he stopped because he didn’t want to wreck my marriage.’ She gave a gulpy hiccup and dabbed her eyes again. ‘I thought I could help him, give him love and make him feel better about himself. Don’t laugh.’