How to Fall (14 page)

‘How does it look?’

‘Perfect.’

‘Come and see, Miss Burman.’ Will was holding back the curtain so she could see herself in the mirror. She peered at herself shyly.

‘Oh, I don’t know.’

‘You look lovely.’ He smiled at her reflection and I stopped in the middle of what I was doing, genuinely surprised by how nice he was being to her. She blushed and scuttled away, muttering something about putting some money in the till, but she looked delighted as she disappeared into the back room.

‘How’s the rail?’ Darcy asked.

‘Fixed.’ Will let the curtain swing back down. ‘Now you can try on whatever you like.’

‘If only.’ She picked up the dress again and sighed, but she was looking at me over the top of the hanger.

‘Forget it,’ I said.

‘You don’t have any excuse now. The changing room is fixed.’

‘That wasn’t why I said no before, and I’m saying no again.’

‘You’re a bad person.’ Darcy wandered over to where Will was testing the broken bracket under the shelf. ‘Will, you’d like to see Jess in this, wouldn’t you? Why don’t you ask her to try it on?’

He didn’t even glance at it. ‘No chance.’

‘Why not?’ Darcy asked what I was thinking. I’d have said no, obviously, but it would have been nice to think he’d have liked to see me in the skimpy dress.
Just so he could see what he could never have
, I told myself, slamming the cabinet door so hard that all my carefully arranged necklace stands fell over. I swore under my breath and opened the door to start again.

Will raised his voice over the rattle of costume jewellery. ‘I mean, you have no chance of persuading her to wear it. You’re more likely to see Sylvia parading around in it than Jess.’

This time, I was the one who asked the question. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because you’re incredibly stubborn and once you’ve made up your mind, no one can persuade you to change it.’ He said it in a matter-of-fact tone, without turning round. I gave a little gasp of outrage. He was right, but I could still be affronted.

Unmoved, he went on. ‘Besides, it’s not you.’

‘How would you know?’ I wished I could see his face.

‘I’ve got eyes.’ He was tightening a screw, putting some force behind it. ‘You would never wear anything like that.’

I didn’t answer him, which made him look round, eyebrows raised. ‘Am I wrong?’

I shook my head.

‘So give up, Darcy. Not going to happen.’ He tossed the screwdriver up in the air so that it flipped end over end a couple of times, then caught it.

‘You’re no help. But I suppose that shouldn’t come as a surprise. I’ll see you later, Jess. I’ve got somewhere else to be.’ Darcy dumped the dress on a chair and stropped out of the shop.

‘Maybe I should just have tried the stupid thing on.’

‘Don’t break your heart over her. She’ll survive.’

I was just about to ask Will what he’d meant about not trusting Darcy when Sylvia emerged from the
back
room, blinking like a tortoise coming out of a long hibernation.

‘Is Darcy gone?’

‘Just now,’ I said, hoping she wouldn’t ask why.

‘I’m going to make a move too,’ Will said. ‘The shelf’s fixed. Unless there’s anything else?’

‘I don’t think so. Thank you, Will.’

‘Any time.’ He knelt down and started to tidy away his tools, his hands quick and methodical.

‘Hands,’ I said. Will looked up, surprised. ‘Brenda’s hands. The mannequin. In the window.’ I pointed. ‘Her hands have fallen off and I can’t get them to stay on.’

‘It’s not my speciality but I’ll have a go.’ He stood up. ‘Show me?’

I was acutely aware of him standing behind me as I retrieved the hands. Brenda was wearing a new skirt that just happened to be floor-length and therefore perfect for hiding things, such as her missing body parts. The hand I’d reattached had fallen off again during the night and acquired a new chip on the wrist. He turned them over, examining them.

‘What do you think, Doctor? Is there any hope?’

‘Traumatic amputation. That’s never pretty.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ll do my best, but I think her embroidery days are over.’

‘As long as she can wear bracelets again, I’ll be happy.’

Will grinned. ‘Superglue should do it.’

I sat down on the floor beside him to watch him work. ‘Why are you helping Sylvia?’

He shrugged. ‘Because I can. She’s a nice lady.’

‘And you really care about owls.’

‘Of course.’ He looked at me sideways. ‘Then there’s the fact that my father volunteered me for this.’

‘Oh, you got volunteered too?’

‘Who signed you up?’

‘Tilly.’

‘I’m sure she had her reasons. And I’m sure you had your reasons for saying yes. You’re here for the money, I take it.’

I put my chin on my knees. ‘Are you going to make me feel bad about that?’

‘Nope. I’d never criticize anyone for earning their own cash instead of just taking their parents’ money.’

‘None to take,’ I said cheerfully. ‘At least, Mum doesn’t have any.’

‘What about your dad?’

‘He wouldn’t share it with me. He needs it for his girlfriend.’

Will’s eyebrows drew together as he considered that. ‘So they’ve split up? Your mum and dad?’

‘Last year.’

‘Is your mum seeing anyone else?’

I frowned, surprised. ‘Are you interested in her or something?’

‘Got it in one.’ A quick glance at me. ‘You don’t know why I’m asking?’

‘Nope.’

‘You don’t know anything about why she left this place, do you?’

I had gone very still. ‘What do you know?’

‘You need to talk to her. Ask her about it.’

‘I have. Of course I have. She’s not very forthcoming.’

‘I can’t say I’m surprised.’ Will had stuck the fake hands into place and now he tilted Brenda so they were braced against the wall. ‘Don’t move them. The glue needs a few hours to stick properly. She won’t be adjustable any more but you should be able to accessorize her outfits from now on.’

‘Don’t change the subject. What do you know about Mum leaving?’

‘It’s not my place to tell you.’

I squeezed my arms around my knees, maddened. ‘You are being intentionally unhelpful.’

‘Just ask her.’ Will was packing up his stuff again, his eyes on what he was doing. ‘Ask her what
happened
before she left. Ask her why she couldn’t come back.’

‘Will.’ The word cut through the shop like a ninja throwing star.

Will flinched. He stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets. For the first time I saw him look awkward and I wasn’t mean enough to enjoy it.

‘Dad.’

I stood up too, craning to see over the rack of hats in front of me, and felt a jolt of shock. The new arrival was Will – a broader, greying version of him with deep lines around his eyes and mouth, but pretty much Will in twenty years. He looked at me and the steely scrutiny was familiar, even though his eyes were a muddier shade of grey than his son’s.

‘And you are?’ He asked it as if he had a right to know the answer.

‘Jess Tennant.’

‘Jess Tennant.’ His face hadn’t changed but he kept looking – staring, really – until I was too embarrassed to stand it any longer. I headed for the relative safety of the cash desk, letting my hair fall forward to screen me from his gaze. There was nowhere to hide, of course. He crossed the shop and stood in front of me, still staring.

‘You’re a recent arrival in Port Sentinel. That’s why we haven’t met.’

I smiled, still on edge. There was something about his face – something was missing, something I’d seen and responded to in Will’s. A hint of sensitivity about the mouth, maybe – a softness to the eyes. Will’s father was pure granite. If I had to name one emotion he was experiencing, based on the look in his eyes, I’d have to pick hatred. Which was impossible.

‘I’ve been here for a few days. On holiday,’ I said.

‘Not much of a holiday if you spend it working.’

‘I don’t mind.’

‘Good for you. I like someone with get up and go. I have to make Will find something useful to do with himself during the holidays. Otherwise he’d spend his time lazing about doing nothing.’

It was completely at odds with the opinion I’d formed of his son. Politeness demanded that I laugh, but I glanced over at Will and found that I couldn’t, quite. Not at his expense. Not with that guarded look on his face. It was hiding something; something that I thought was hurt.

If I wasn’t smiling, Will’s dad made up for it, grinning at me. It transformed him and almost wiped away the terrifying first impression he’d made. He stuck out his hand. ‘Dan Henderson. I’m the local bobby.’

‘I thought you were more senior than a bobby.’
His
palm was rough against mine, calloused in places, as if he spent a lot of time out of doors.

‘I’m the local inspector,’ he admitted. ‘Stay out of trouble while you’re here, Jess, and we’ll get on very well.’

‘That’s certainly my intention.’ I was aware of Will watching us, of the tension in his posture. I wondered what he was afraid of.

As if he could hear what I was thinking, his father wheeled round abruptly. ‘What have you done so far?’

‘I’ve finished,’ Will said quietly.

‘Let me see.’

Mutely, Will indicated the curtain rail. His father shook it as if he was testing its possibilities as a trapeze. ‘Not bad. But you made a bit of a mess at this end. You should repaint that wood.’

It was on the tip of my tongue to correct him; he was talking about the end of the rail that hadn’t needed to be fixed. If it was an untidy job, that was down to whoever had installed it in the first place. But Will was as capable of pointing that out as I was, and he said nothing, nodding when his father looked round at him. And if Dan Henderson was as determined as he seemed to be to find something wrong, letting him settle on something that simple was probably a good idea.

‘What else?’

Will pointed out the shelf, which passed muster.

‘And what were you doing in the window?’

‘Talking to me, mainly,’ I said cheerfully. I didn’t think Dan would approve of the superglue solution. Will didn’t look at me, but Dan turned.

‘I see. Have you two met before?’

‘Not properly.’ Fine, so it was a lie, but Will’s eyes met mine for a split second and I saw a gleam of relief.

‘I’m sorry I interrupted, then.’

‘You didn’t interrupt anything.’ And even if we had been having a romantic liaison, I wouldn’t sit in a shop window on the main street in town to do it. I didn’t even know if that was what he had been implying.

‘We should go.’ They were almost the first words Will had spoken since his father arrived.

Dan clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to knock him off balance a little. ‘Never outstay your welcome. You’re learning.’

‘You’re so kind,’ Sylvia said. ‘He’s a good boy, Dan. He’s just like you were at the same age.’

‘I don’t know which of us would be more disappointed if that were true.’ Dan smiled at her as if he’d said something pleasant instead of cutting.

Will picked up his toolbox and nodded to Sylvia. I got a glance as he went out of the door, a look that was
too
quick for me to be able to guess what he was thinking. In contrast, his father took his time to leave, shaking my hand again and holding onto it for a fraction of a second too long as he stared into my eyes. He had got as far as the door, and I had got as far as letting my shoulders slump with relief, when he turned back.

‘Jess . . . Do tell your mother I was asking for her.’

‘Um. OK.’
Or I might not mention it
. There was something about Will’s dad that made me nervous. He’d walked into the shop and what little light there was seemed to have seeped out. Intimidating wasn’t the word for him – and that was when he was trying to be nice. You could say I was over-protective but I didn’t want him anywhere near my sweet, gentle mother.

He looked at me as if he knew what I was thinking, and I had to resist the urge to fidget. I just kept staring back, my face as neutral as I could make it, until he got tired of standing there and left. And it was only because of the ache in my lungs that I realized I’d been holding my breath.

9

SO FAR, ALL
I’d had were questions – questions that led to more questions, generally. That afternoon I finally started to get some answers. But it’s true what they say: you should be careful what you wish for. Because once you know, that’s it. There are no more possibilities. No more explanations. There’s just the truth, no matter how much you might wish things were different.

After I finished work I went looking for Darcy. She wasn’t at the beach, or in any of the cutesy cafés around town where I expected to find her indulging in some mild posing. I was pretty much at a loss after that; I didn’t know her or Port Sentinel well enough to have any ideas about where she went when she was upset. As a last resort I tried her house, which she’d pointed out to me the previous day, and struck gold.

It wouldn’t be fair to say she was sulking, but she
was
lying on her bed, headphones on, sketching unwearable shoes with dramatic platform soles. I sat on the edge of the bed and the movement made her look round and take the headphones off.

‘Hey. What are you doing here?’

‘Your mum let me in.’

‘Not an answer to the question, but OK.’

‘You left Fine Feathers in a hurry. I wanted to make sure you were all right.’

She rolled back onto her front. ‘That’s nice of you. I’m fine.’

‘You were upset.’

‘I lost my temper. I shouldn’t have.’

‘I know you were annoyed about the dress,’ I said, treading carefully. ‘But I wasn’t expecting you to leave. I didn’t think you were taking it that seriously. If I’d known—’

‘You still wouldn’t have tried it on.’

‘Probably not,’ I acknowledged. ‘But I might have handled it differently.’

Darcy sighed. ‘It wasn’t really anything to do with the dress. Or you. So don’t feel bad.’

‘Was it something to do with Will?’

‘Maybe.’ She wriggled. ‘I don’t find him easy to get on with.’

‘That’s because he’s not,’ I said, thinking of the
prickly
conversations we’d been having, the apparently endless potential for giving offence.