‘Duck, Sam,’ said Michael.
The boom cracked me just above the ear with such ringing force that for a moment the world went black. I careered across the boat, tipping it wildly, and the boom swung back again. This time it missed me (I was already down and almost out) but smacked into Michael’s head as he rose to rescue me. We ended up sitting in the dinghy’s watery bottom like two large black beetles, the boom banging above us, both sails loose and wild. It felt much safer when I couldn’t see what was happening.
‘Sit still,’ he commanded.
‘But…’
He put up one hand and very gently, very carefully, hooked a dislodged ear-ring safely back into my ear lobe.
‘Who else would wear such absurd dangly ear-rings out sailing? Are you all right?’
Actually, I was all of a sudden and quite without reason feeling perfectly calm. The queasiness in my stomach was subsiding; the bang of my frightened heart was diminishing; only the side of my head felt swollen and sore. The boat still bucked in the gusts, but with the sails adrift the wind could get no purchase. Michael was such a solid presence near me, so sure of himself. I could see the faint graze of his stubble, the emphatic bow in his upper lip, his large pupils in his grey eyes.
‘I wouldn’t put you in danger, Sam,’ he said softly, staring at me.
I managed a grin.
‘On our next date, Michael, perhaps I could take you to see a film.’
Twenty
Michael and I were silent in the car on the way back to the house. I felt I’d disappointed him, and I hate so much to disappoint anybody that it makes me bad-tempered, and I was afraid I would snap at him and I didn’t want to say anything I would regret, so it was better to say nothing at all. He put on a tape of some classical-sounding music and I pretended to be absorbed in it. Dusk was turning into night and as we wound through the lanes that followed the line of the coast I caught tantalizing glimpses of glowing interiors of the houses we passed. The darkness concealed the oddness of the landscape and made it seem almost reassuring, the way countryside is meant to be. By the time we arrived, I felt that the volcano in my chest had become dormant once more. I took a deep breath.
‘I don’t think I’m a natural sailor.’
‘You did very well.’
‘Yeah, I know. And Nelson was sick every time he went to sea. But it was really nice of you to take me out.’ Michael stayed silent with a half-smile on his face, and I babbled to fill the gap. ‘Let’s try it again some time. I’m sure I’ll be better.’
Bloody hell. What had I committed myself to? But Michael seemed satisfied enough.
‘I’d like that very much,’ he said.
‘You’ll soon have me tacking and jibing and booming like nobody’s business.’
He laughed, and we both got out of the car and walked towards the house, Michael holding my arm. It was dark now and through the window I could make out signs of movement inside. I stepped forward and looked. The fire was blazing. Danny was sitting in the armchair to one side. He had his back to me and I could see little more than the back of his head and the bottle of beer that he was balancing on the arm of the chair with his right hand. But I knew what his expression would be. He would be dreamily staring into the fire. Elsie was in her pyjamas, her hair washed and combed flat, her face red and blotchy with excitement and with the reflection of the flames. She was piling up her wooden bricks. I could hear nothing but I could see her lips moving in a constant chatter directed at Finn who was lying beside her, also with her back to me, so I couldn’t see if she was talking back. Probably she was just lying there with her eyes half closed. I suspected that Elsie responded to Finn’s sense of repose as well as her youth. They were two girls together in a sense that I would never be able to be. It was a lovely scene, so much so that I felt an ache of exclusion, or was it guilt at being absent?
I felt a hand on my shoulder. Michael.
‘What a beautiful family group,’ I said, with more than a hint of dryness.
Michael took some time to reply. He just looked, with fascination, at the fireside scene. His jaw clenched with obvious satisfaction.
‘It’s you, you know,’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘When I was first talking with the police and we asked around, everybody said how wonderful you were. And you have been. I can’t believe what you’ve done with Finn.’
I gave a frown and pushed Michael back in a half-jocular fashion.
‘I don’t need your flattery, Dr Daley. Besides, I’ve supplied no treatment of any kind. Anything Finn has done, she’s done for herself.’
‘You underestimate yourself.’
‘I’ve never underestimated myself in my life.’
‘You’re wrong, you know. As a GP I often think of what the job was like a hundred years ago when there were no antibiotics, no insulin, just morphine, digitalis, one or two other things. A doctor had almost nothing in his bag that could change the course of an illness. What he was was a healer. He would sit by a patient and by his presence would help him, maybe just holding his hand.’ Michael’s face was just inches away from mine now, he was speaking in barely more than a whisper. ‘You’re a bloody-minded woman. You’re arrogant. You’re accomplished. You can be harsh with the rest of us. But you’ve got it, you know, that healing human quality.’
I didn’t say anything. Michael raised his hand and with just a finger lightly touched my hair. Was he going to kiss me, out here, with Danny just a few feet away? What would I do? In what must have been less than a second I imagined myself having an affair with Michael, us naked together, and then all the conflicts and anguish and betrayals. I took his hand in a friendly, sisterly fashion.
‘Thank you for the compliment, Michael, however misconceived. Come in and have a drink. Grog, or whatever you sailor types like.’
He smiled and shook his head.
‘I must get back, and out of these things. Good night, clever woman.’
I went into the house feeling that glow that you can only experience when you have been flattered grossly. As I pushed the door of the living room open, three heads, three expressions, turned towards me. Danny, with a hint of an ironic smile. Was he rebuking me for something? Elsie’s whole face glimmered as if the fire were inside her. Finn rotated slightly, like a cat that had appropriated my hearthrug and been partially stirred from a long sleep. I felt a quiver of disquiet deep inside me.
‘Look, Mummy, look,’ said Elsie, as if I had been there all the time.
‘It’s incredible. What is it?’
‘A secret. Guess.’
‘A house.’
‘No.’
‘A boat.’
‘No.’
‘A zoo.’
‘It’s not a zoo. It’s a secret.’
‘So how has your day been?’
‘I went out with Dan and Fing.’
I looked expectantly at the grown-ups.
‘We built a sand-castle,’ said Finn. ‘With stones. And tins.’
‘Thanks, Finn,’ I said. And I went and sat on the armchair and kissed Danny on top of his cross head. ‘And thank you.’
‘I’m going into town tomorrow,’ Danny said.
‘Work?’
‘No.’
It was an awkward, unsatisfactory moment, with Finn and Elsie just beside us.
‘Is everything all right?’ I murmured.
‘Why shouldn’t it be?’ Danny replied in that normal tone that I found so difficult to read.
‘No reason,’ I said.
There was a slightly unpleasant silence, during which I saw Finn and Elsie exchanging smiling glances.
‘What’s up?’ I asked.
‘Ask Elsie what’s hanging on the door,’ Finn said.
‘What’s hanging on the door of your safe house, Elsie?’
In her excitement, Elsie looked like a party balloon that had been blown up almost too far and if it were released would shoot around the room out of control.
‘There’s a spade hanging on the door,’ she said.
‘And ask Elsie what’s on the doormat.’
‘What’s on the doormat, Elsie?’
‘A sand-castle,’ Elsie said with a shriek.
‘A sand-castle on the
doormat?
That’s a funny thing.’
‘And ask Elsie what’s in Mummy’s bed.’
‘What’s in Mummy’s bed?’
‘A big hug.’ And Elsie ran forward and threw her arms around me. The feeble pressure on my shoulders almost made me cry. I mouthed a thank-you to Finn over Elsie’s shoulder.
Elsie wanted Finn to put her to bed but I wasn’t going to be cheated out of that and I insisted and then
she
insisted and I carried Elsie’s wriggling body up the stairs, promising that Finn would come and kiss her good-night
and
tell her a story. After I’d peeled off the wet suit and pulled on some jeans and a T-shirt, I brushed her teeth and then rather grumpily read her a book of tongue-twisters.
‘Can I see Fing now?’
‘Kiss me good-night first.’
With a sigh she pushed her lips forward and then I was dispatched downstairs to fetch Finn. She slipped past me to keep her appointment with my delinquent daughter. Danny was still sitting in the chair, but I saw he had a fresh bottle of beer. I noticed three empty bottles next to the foot of the chair.
‘Let me have a sip,’ I said, and he handed me the bottle. ‘What’s up?’
‘It’s time I was in London again, that’s all.’
‘All right.’
There was another silence and, again, it wasn’t a comfortable one. I sat on the floor at his feet and leaned back against him, feeling his knees against my shoulder-blades. I sipped at the bottle and then passed it back to him.
‘What do you think of Finn?’ I asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘How does she seem to you?’
‘I’m not a doctor, doctor.’
‘You’re a human being.’
‘Thanks, Sam.’
‘You spent the day with her, Danny. Tell me what you think?’
‘Interesting girl.’
‘Interesting
damaged girl
,’ I said.
‘You’re the doctor.’
‘Do you find her attractive?’
Danny frowned.
‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
‘When Michael dropped me off, we looked in at the house. I saw Finn stretched out on the floor in front of the fire. I thought that, if I were a man, I might find her very attractive. A lovely seductive creature.’
‘Well, you’re not a man.’
There was a silence. I listened for Finn’s tread on the stairs. Then I heard a distant giggle from Elsie. Finn would be a few minutes yet.
‘Danny, have you got a problem with this?’
‘With what?’
‘With Finn, this set-up, you know.’
I felt Danny’s hand on my hair. Suddenly he grasped it and pulled my head back. I felt his lips against mine, I tasted his tongue. His left hand ran up my stomach. I felt an ache for him. He stopped and sat back. He gave a sardonic smile.
‘You know I’d never tell you how to run your life, Sam. But…’
‘Shhh,’ I said.
There were steps outside and Finn drifted in and sat near us on the mat in front of the fire.
‘Elsie’s almost asleep. I’ve made a couple of salads,’ she said. ‘Some garlic bread. I didn’t think you’d want much. I hope that’s all right.’
‘You didn’t have any other culinary plans, did you, Sam?’ Danny asked sarcastically.
Finn giggled.
‘Sounds good to me,’ I said.
Danny drank a couple more bottles of beer. I drank wine. Finn drank water. The salads were crispy and colourful. You could almost mistake them for the ones you get in plastic beakers at M&S. I talked a bit about the day’s sailing. Finn asked a couple of questions. Danny said almost nothing at all. Afterwards, we took mugs of coffee back to the living room where the fire had burned down to its embers. Danny had yet another bottle of beer. I put some small pieces of firewood on the embers and blew and blew until there were flames once more. The wind was rattling the window frames and blowing drops of rain against the glass.
‘It’s the sort of night when it feels wonderful to be in front of a fire,’ I said.
‘Stop that crap, Sam,’ said Danny.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re talking like a fucking advertisement for something.’
He walked over to the window.
‘This isn’t you, Sam. What are you doing here? There’s just trees out there and mud and marsh and rain and then the sea. Real people can’t live here, only dressed-up oafs who go hunting.’
‘Stop it, Danny,’ I said, with a glance across at a shocked Finn.
‘Why? What do you think about it, Finn? Do you like living out here.’
Finn looked panic-stricken.
‘I don’t know,’ she mumbled. ‘I’ve just got some clearing up to do. In the kitchen.’
She hurried from the room and I turned to Danny in a rage.
‘You fucking buffoon,’ I hissed. ‘What are you playing at?’
He shrugged.
‘The countryside pisses me off. This whole thing pisses me off.’
‘How could you talk like that in front of Finn? How
could
you? What’s going on? Do you resent Finn, or Michael? Are you jealous?’
Danny raised the bottle and drained it.
‘I’m off to bed,’ he said and left the room.
I leafed through a magazine for a few minutes until Finn joined me.
‘I apologize,’ I said. ‘Danny can be strange.’
‘That’s all right,’ Finn said. ‘I like Danny. I like the way he can just say anything. I like his difficulty. I’ve always gone for that sort of grim man.’
‘I haven’t.’
Finn smiled and sat next to me on the rug in front of the fire. She pressed close. I could smell her soft, warm skin.
‘Do you have a boyfriend?’ I asked.
‘Do you know what I hate about all of this, what’s happened to me?’
‘What?’
‘There’s an idea that suffering has made me this delicate, saintly creature and everybody gets worried if they say the wrong thing when I’m in earshot. No, I didn’t “have a boyfriend”. When I was fat no one was interested in me, of course, and I guess I wasn’t interested either. Or I was terrified. Maybe that’s what being fat was partly about for me. After I lost all that weight but wasn’t like a bicycle frame either, I felt completely different, and then I had sex with boys sometimes. Especially in South America; it was part of the adventure. Well –’ she gave a harsh, unlikely chuckle – ‘Mummy always said I was too young to get tied down. Does it shock you?’
Well, yes.
‘No, of course not. I’m afraid that I, and all of this,’ I gestured at our surroundings, ‘must seem a bit staid to you.’
‘Oh, no, Sam.’ Finn turned to face me. She stroked my cheek and kissed it, very softly. I wanted to draw back, but forced myself not to. ‘I don’t think you’re staid.’ She sat back. ‘I used to be – for God’s sake, I
am
– someone who acts on impulse. When Danny was talking about the countryside I sort of agreed with him. But at the same time, for me it’s not boring. I have this idea in my head that won’t go away. There are people out there in the dark who put tape round my face and cut my throat and they would do it again if they had the chance.’
‘Don’t, Finn.’
‘But it’s more than that, Sam. I have this image playing over and over in my head. I don’t know whether it’s a dream. I imagine this house in the middle of the night. Torchlight outside, a window sliding up. A creaking on the stairs. I wake up with masking tape over my mouth, a blade at my throat. Then they move to your room. Then to Elsie’s…’
‘Finn, stop that,’ I was almost shouting. ‘You mustn’t say that. You have no right to say that.’
I felt a sour taste in the back of my throat. I wanted to be sick.
‘Whose feelings are you protecting?’ Finn asked. ‘Mine or yours?’