Familiar Rooms in Darkness (27 page)

‘On you go, love. I'll be with you in a minute.' Derek shooed his daughter in the direction of the cars waiting to take the mourners away. When she was out of earshot, he said to Bella, ‘I haven't told the girls about you and Charlie. Not that I don't want to. It's just a hard thing to explain.'

Bella watched Leanne join her younger sister. Both girls turned to glance at her and Derek, then turned away, giggling. ‘Perhaps you were waiting to see whether there would be any need.' She met Derek's gaze. ‘If you'd rather I left it alone, stayed out of your life, I'll understand. As you said, maybe it's a bit late to get to know one another.'

‘No,' he said quickly, and shook his head. ‘I don't think that at all. I just – like, I don't know where to start.'

‘Come on, Del!' called a man standing by one of the cars.

‘Don't worry,' said Bella.

‘Look…' Derek hesitated, about to go. ‘Stay in touch.'

Bella nodded, and watched as Derek got into one of the funeral cars with his daughters.

Adam was sitting in his study, putting the finishing touches to an article, when the phone rang. He picked it up and recognized instantly the deep, public-school drawl.

‘Adam, RC-K here.'

‘Richard–'

‘Look, this trip you're making to France–'

‘Yes?'

‘I don't want to muscle in on your holiday, but you've given me the idea that I could do with a change of scene. God knows I need a break from these bloody record people. Why don't you let me drive you and the girlfriend down to France in my Bentley? It needs a spin, hasn't been out on the road for ages. You can go off and do your own thing once we're down there.'

Adam had to admit the idea was an attractive one. Driving to France with Compton-King would be much more fun than just himself and Megan in the Fiat, which had been acting up a bit lately. ‘Well – it's a nice idea… I mean, thanks very much for the offer. I need to be mobile, but I suppose I could always hire a car at the other end. I booked us a gite near Cahors. Very much last-minute, but it sounds all right. Where will you be staying?'

‘Oh, I'll find some hotel in the neighbourhood. I'll be moving around a bit, I imagine. Touring the vineyards, that kind of thing.'

‘Well, look, if you're sure–'

‘I knew you'd like it. Suggest we set off on Sunday. Give me your address, I'll pop round and pick you both up mid-morning. I'll book the old Shuttle for some time in the afternoon.'

‘I can't let you pay for us–'

‘No intention. You pay me back when you come to sort out your expenses. Ciao.'

Smiling, Adam shut down his laptop and went through to the kitchen. Megan had nearly finished cooking supper, and Adam began to lay the table.

‘Richard Compton-King was on the phone a moment ago.'

‘Who?' Megan glanced at Adam through a haze of steam from the drained beans.

‘The chap I told you about who manages bands. He's just offered to drive us down to France in his Bentley.'

‘Why?'

‘Why? Because he wants a break and feels like company. Don't worry, you'll like him.'

‘You said yes?'

Adam took some wine from the fridge. ‘Yes, why not? He's a very amusing guy. It'll be fun.'

‘Thanks.' Megan put the dishes on the table and sat down.

‘What d'you mean?'

‘Sorry my company's not good enough. I was looking forward to it being just the two of us.'

‘It will be just the two of us, once we get there. Anyway, don't you think we get quite enough of that at the moment?'

‘What a bloody thing to say.'

Adam sighed, exasperated. ‘Is this PMS or something? I just mean that we spend quite a lot of time together, and I like seeing other people. He's a great guy.'

‘So you keep saying. Well, if you've said we'll go with him, there's not much I can do about it, is there?'

‘Fine. If that's how you feel, why don't you stay in London? You don't have to come, you know.'

Megan stared at him across the table, eyes bright with quick tears. ‘Why are you being so horrible? You come and tell me we're going to France in a threesome with someone I don't even know, after I've spent all bloody evening cooking your rotten supper–'

‘I don't necessarily want supper cooked for me! I didn't ask!'

The row that ensued took its predictable course. Megan left the kitchen in tears; Adam sulked briefly, then placated her; they ate a lukewarm supper while tentatively negotiating their way back to affection, and made it up properly, and quite passionately, in bed an hour later.

On the morning after
Funeral Games
closed, Bella woke up to find her senses still clouded by the melancholy which had settled upon her at the funeral the day before. She lay in bed for a long time, burrowing in the comfort of her duvet, ignoring the reproach of the sunny day beyond her window, trying to locate the source of her feelings. Everything came back to the day when she and Adam had gone to Deptford in search of her family, the suffocating sense of excitement and fear she had felt on meeting Derek, the moment when she had turned and seen him, seen someone who was part of her, yet an utter
stranger. Such high hopes, such nebulous expectations. Her lost family. Since that day, nothing had been as she had hoped it would be. Her existence was not of theirs. She could look into her aunt Joyce's eyes and see something of herself, but the connections which blood and genes had established had been severed by time, and upbringing, and the different quality of her experience and expectations. She couldn't just become part of a world of which she knew nothing, and in which she had never figured. She tried to imagine the effort of maintaining a connection with Joyce, visits and phone calls, and knew how barren it would ultimately be.

And Derek. She thought of their encounter outside the church. Was he so reluctant to acknowledge her, or was he just unnerved by the complexities of admitting a sister into his life? She thought back over their few brief conversations, particularly the one in the impersonal waiting room at the hospital. Too late to get to know her, he'd said, though he wanted to. Maybe it was true. She had come this far, hoping for so much, finding only disappointment, shadows, family photos with no spaces where she and Charlie should have been. Charlie himself had never wanted to pursue this, was happy enough with the reality which time and fate had constructed. Perhaps his instincts had been right.

She uncurled herself from her duvet and pillows and rolled over, blinking against the late-morning light filtering through the blind. She had reached a turning point, she realized. Either she stopped now, never got in touch with Derek again, let everything slide away back into the shadows – or she did something positive.

She lay inert for a few moments, decisions forming in her mind. Then she got out of bed, showered and dressed, and drove to Deptford, the
A–Z
open on the passenger seat beside her.

Bella parked outside the pub and walked slowly towards the alleyway entrance where the crash-repair sign leaned against the wall. She thought she had conquered her feelings where number forty-four Duffy Road was concerned, but the sight of the house filled her again with a vivid feeling of loss and dislocation. The unknowable, the might-have-been. She walked up the alleyway, and there was Derek, dressed in an oily blue boiler suit unbuttoned to the waist, sleeves rolled up over bulky, tattooed biceps, bent under the bonnet of a Ford Mondeo. He straightened up and shouted something to the other mechanic working in the yard, and then saw Bella. He paused, spanner in hand, and nodded to her. She couldn't tell from his eyes whether he was pleased to see her or not. A closed book, just like Charlie.

As she strolled into the centre of the yard, he put down his tools and came towards her, wiping his hands on his thighs.

‘You should have rung.'

‘Sorry, I came on impulse. I wanted to talk to you.'

‘Right.' Derek glanced towards the kitchen door, which stood ajar. ‘Go on in. I'll be in in a minute. I'll just clean up.'

Bella went into the kitchen. A batch of dirty tea mugs cluttered the sink. A packet of sugar and half-empty bottle of milk stood on the side. She leaned against the sink and
waited. After a few seconds, she heard children's voices from a neighbouring room, and out of curiosity she went down the hall and looked into the sitting room.

Two girls were sitting on the floor, the ones she had seen at the funeral, Playstation controls in hand, staring intently at the television screen. The elder, Leanne, glanced up. She recognized Bella instantly, astonished.

‘Hello,' said Bella. The younger girl looked up, too. She looked about nine or ten.

‘Hello,' they chorused, uncertain what to make of the situation. There was a long pause.

‘Have you come to see Dad?' asked Leanne.

‘Yes.'

The girls looked at one another. ‘He's out the back.'

‘I know. I was waiting for him in the kitchen, and I heard you two.'

Derek came down the hall behind her. Bella turned to him. ‘I was just saying hello to the girls.'

‘Yeah, right…' He glanced at his daughters. ‘They should be outside, by rights, day like this. Go on, take your bikes down the park.'

‘Da-ad!'

‘Come on. Turn that thing off. Get some fresh air for a change.'

They switched off the Playstation and trooped off, giving Bella curious glances as they went.

‘Have they asked how you know me?' said Bella, when the girls had gone.

‘I said you were a friend.'

‘I think they think I'm a girlfriend, or something like that,' said Bella with a grin.

‘Yeah?' Derek returned the grin. ‘I'll have to knock that idea on the head.'

‘You mean, tell them who I really am?'

Derek nodded reluctantly. ‘I suppose. I'm going to have to do it sometime, aren't I?'

Bella's heart leapt a little. ‘I hope so. How long are they staying with you?'

‘I've got them for three weeks. Their mum's off in Spain, on holiday with her boyfriend. It's difficult, with them not knowing the kids round here. Not much for them to do.' There was a short, awkward silence. ‘Like a cup of tea, or something?'

‘No, thanks.' Bella shook her head. ‘As I say, I just wanted to talk.'

‘Right. Have a seat.'

Bella sat down. Derek paced across the room and leaned against the mantelpiece, arms folded. He looked a little intimidating, just as Charlie did on the occasions when she had seen him in court, standing just like that, cross-examining a witness. Derek's expression, however, was benign and patient.

‘I realized today that we have to make a choice,' said Bella. ‘You and I. About what we are to one another.' The words, which she had rehearsed in the car on the way, sounded to Bella's ear stilted and unnatural, but Derek simply absorbed them, his eyes fixed on hers. ‘Charlie has a lot of problems about this whole thing. I was the one who did everything, who came and found you – and Doreen. I didn't stop to ask myself why I was doing it. I suppose I had some stupid expectations. But the thing is, now I've found you, I do want to get to
know you. I know you think it's too late, but I really don't think that's true. I can't just go through life pretending you don't exist. You're my brother.'

Derek paced around the room for some seconds, arms still folded. ‘That's nice, and all, but I just don't see how we do it.' He turned to look at her. ‘I've thought about this, don't think I haven't. I've hated Mum and Dad for giving you away, for never letting me get to know you, and my brother. But here we are. You're you, I'm me. What happens?'

‘God, you sound so matter-of-fact–'

‘No, listen, I'm being practical. That's what I am, see. That's what I've got to be. When you let people in… you have to be sure it's for your own good. What I'm trying to say is–' Derek broke off, baffled, ‘–you can't just invent relationships.'

‘I'm your sister.'

‘I know. I love that. You don't know how much I wish I'd had that. But
now
… Well, it seems weird. What do we do? Meet up once a month? Ring each other up and talk about things we haven't got in common? You're an actress, I'm a bloody car mechanic!'

‘We
make
it happen! If we decide that we want to get to know one another badly enough, then we'll just do it! Of course we don't have things in common – that's what this is all about! That's something we achieve between us, by getting to know one another, doing things together now and then. I want us to become friends, to become –'

‘Oh, right, right–' Derek paced round the room, agitated. ‘So I can take you to Catford Dogs and you'll be fine with that, will you?'

‘Yes! Why not? At least we've got a basis, at least we can start from somewhere! And don't be so bloody patronizing – I have been greyhound racing before, you know.'

‘Have you? Where?'

‘Wimbledon.'

‘Oh… yeah. Nice stadium.'

Each glanced at the other, enjoying the astringent warmth of their exchange, surprised by the ease of it.

‘The point is,' said Bella, ‘we have to start somewhere.'

‘Exactly. Just what I was saying in the first place. It isn't that easy.'

‘It could be. I've got a proposal.' She took a deep breath. ‘I have a house in France. It belongs to Charlie and me. It's a big place, and we're going to have to sell it soon. Anyway, the point is, I'm going there on holiday with some friends next week. I'd like to invite you and the girls to come along as well.'

Derek frowned. ‘France?'

‘Yes.' She clasped her hands on her knees. ‘Please, please,
please
say you'll come. It would be the perfect chance to get to know one another. The girls would have a lovely time. There's a swimming pool and lots to do.' She gazed at him hopefully.