Secret Smile (13 page)

It kept coming into my mind all day and I
tried and failed to push it away. Partly I regretted having done it because it
felt as if I had poured corrosive liquid on to my body and was watching it
bubble and steam as it ate away at me. And what good would it do me, whatever I
found out? If I found the paper still in place, would that reassure me? If I
found it lying on the floor, what would that prove? Kerry might have popped in
to borrow my deodorant or run the vacuum cleaner over the floor. But was that
what I wanted? Was I looking for ways to become even more angry and suspicious?

When 1 got back to my empty flat and ran
to my room, I found something I hadn't even considered. The slip of paper was
held fast in the door, but now it was fully a foot higher than where I had left
it that morning.

CHAPTER 14

'Nick,' I began.

'Mmm?'

We were walking across the Heath, our feet
kicking up crackly amber leaves. The trees were almost bare now, the sun pale
and low in the sky. It wasn't yet four o'clock, but the clocks had just been
turned back and it was dark early. My cold hand was in his warm one, my breath
steamed in the air. We'd met in a bistro near his flat for lunch — a bowl of
pumpkin soup with crusty bread, a glass of wine each — and later on that
evening we were going to a party thrown by a friend of his whom I hadn't met
before. Then I was going to stay the night at his place, though he didn't know
it yet. I had my toothbrush and a spare pair of knickers stuffed into my bag.

'I was wondering

'Yes?'

I slowed down.

'Well. You know Kerry and Brendan need to
stay with me a bit longer?'

'You want to come back to my flat rather
than the other way round? Is that it?'

'There's that, yes, but. . .'

'I was going to say the very same thing.
We need a bit of privacy, don't we?' His hand tightened on mine.

'What if I came and stayed with you? Just
until they move out.'

I looked up at him just in time to see the
smallest frown, a momentary tightening of his mouth.

'Forget it, it was a bad idea,' I said, at
the same time as he said, 'If you're really desperate...'

'I shouldn't have asked.'

'Of course you should ask,' he said, too
heartily. 'You know how small my flat is, and it's a bit early days, isn't it,
but I was going to say that if...'

'No. Forget I ever asked.'

He wouldn't forget. And I wouldn't forget
either — that flicker of dismay and disapproval, that small pause into which
all our doubts flooded. I knew then what I'd known anyway, since Venice at
least, that it wasn't going to last. It wasn't going to be a big affair after
all, but a nice interim fling. We'd fallen for each other, with that lovely
rush of happiness that almost feels like coming down with flu. We'd spent
sleepless nights together, and days apart thinking of each other, remembering
what the other had said, had done, longing for the next time we could hold each
other. For a week or so, we'd maybe thought that the other might be the one for
us. But no: it would be over. Not today, not this week, but soon enough,
because the tide that had rushed in on us was ebbing again, leaving only a few
odd items of debris behind.

Tears stung my eyes and I started walking
more briskly again, tugging Nick after me. I knew it wasn't really him I was
going to miss, so much as being with someone. Rushing home from work, full of anticipation.
Planning things together. Waking up and feeling energetic and light-footed.
Being wanted. Being beautiful. Being in love. That's what I didn't want to end.
I blinked fiercely, trying to ward off self-pity.

'Come on,' I said. 'It's getting too
cold.'

'Miranda, listen, if you need to stay...'

'No.'

'... then it would be fine...'

'No, Nick.'

'I don't know why you've suddenly got all
offended, just because I didn't immediately...'

'Oh, don't,' I said. 'Please, don't.'

'What?'

'You know.'

'I don't.' He pursed his lips.

I was filled with a sudden foreboding that
if we went on pulling at each other's words like this then everything was going
to unravel right now and I'd be alone by nightfall.

'Let's go and have a bath together,' I
said. 'All right?'

'Yes.'

'Can I stay the night?'

'Of course. I want you to. And if you
need...'

I put a hand across his mouth. 'Ssssh.'

'Laura?'

'Miranda? Hi.' There was music in the
background and Tony's voice calling something. It made me feel homesick for my
flat where Kerry and Brendan were now sitting, eating supper in front of a
video. I'd told them I was going out to see friends, but it hadn't been true,
and instead I was crouched in a chilly little cafe down the road, drinking my
second bitter cup of coffee, wishing I'd put on warmer clothes.

'Is this a bad time?'

'Not at all. We were about to eat, but
that's fine.'

'I've got a favour to ask.'

'Tell me.'

'It's quite a big favour. Can I come and
stay at your place?'

'Stay?' There was a violent crunching
sound, as if she'd stuck a piece of carrot or apple in her mouth. 'Sure.
Tonight you mean? Is everything all right?'

'Yes. No. I mean, everything's all right.
Kind of all right. And not necessarily tonight, maybe tomorrow or the next day.
But just for a few days

'Hang on, you're not making sense, I can
hardly hear you anyway, and the pan's boiling over. Wait there.' There was a
pause, then the music was turned down. 'Right.'

I took a breath. 'Kerry and Brendan's flat
has fallen through, God knows why, as a result of which they can't move out, so
I've got to.' I heard my voice rise. 'I've
got
to, Laura, or I'll do
something violent. Stab him with a kitchen knife. Pour scalding

'I get the picture,' said Laura.

'It sounds mad, I know.'

'A bit. How long for?'

'Just a few days.' I swallowed and
clutched my mobile. A young woman with a shaved head came and wiped my table,
lifting the two coffee cups and then putting them back down again. 'I hope.
I've no idea. Days or a week or so. Not more.' That was what Brendan and Kerry
had said to me. Now the flat was filling up with all their things and I was
leaving instead of them. A small howl of rage rose in my chest. 'Will Tony
mind?' I asked.

'It's got nothing to do with him,' said
Laura defiantly. 'But of course you can come. Tomorrow, you say?'

'If it's all right.'

'Really, fine. You'd do the same for me.'

'I would,' I said fervently. 'And I'll
keep out of your way. And Tony's.'

'It's all a bit drastic, Miranda.'

'It's like an allergy,' I said. 'I just
have to avoid him and then I'll be all right.'

'Hmmm,' said Laura.

I didn't want another cup of coffee and it
was too early to go back home. I wandered up the high street until I came to
the all-night bagel place. I bought one filled with salmon and cream cheese,
still warm in its paper bag, and ate it on the pavement, while people milled
past me. Sunday evening and probably they were on their way home, a hot bath
and something cooking in the oven, their own bed waiting.

'I thought it would be better this way,' I
said to Brendan and Kerry. 'You need to have time on your own.'

Kerry sat down at the kitchen table and
propped her chin in her hands and stared at me. She didn't seem so radiantly
happy any more. Her face had a pinched, anxious look to it, the way it used to
have in her bad old days, before Brendan came along and made her feel loved.

'It's not possible, Miranda,' she said.
'Don't you see. We can't let you leave your own home.'

'I've arranged it already.'

'If it's what Miranda wants,' said Brendan
softly.

'Is it so terrible for you, having us
here, then?'

'It's not that. I just thought it was the
obvious solution.'

'Have it your own way,' she said. 'You
always do anyway.' Then she stood up and left the room, banging the door shut
behind her. We heard the front door slam.

'What are you playing at?' said Brendan,
in a horribly amiable tone of voice. He came and stood over me.

'What do you mean?'

'You don't get it, do you?' he went on.
'You can't win. Look.' He picked up a tumbler still half full of lime juice and
banged it hard on the table so the liquid splattered across and shards of glass
spun on to the floor.

'Oh shit,' I said. 'What do you think
you're doing now?'

'Look,' he repeated and sat down and
started squeezing the broken glass in his hand. 'I'll always win. I can stand
things you can't.'

'What the fuck . . . ?'

'Mmm?' He smiled at me, though his face
had gone rather pale.

'You're mad! Jesus!'

I grabbed hold of his fist and started to
pull it loose. Blood seeped out between his fingers, ran down my wrist.

'You have to ask me to stop.'

'You're a fucking lunatic'

'Ask me to stop.'

I looked at the blood gushing from his
hand. I heard the front door open again, Kerry's footsteps coming towards us.
She started to say she was sorry that she'd stormed out like that and then she
stopped and began to scream wildly. Brendan was smiling at me still. Sweat ran
down from his forehead.

'Stop,' I said. 'Stop!'

He opened up his hand and shook the glass
out on to the table. Blood puddled into his outstretched palm and overflowed on
to the table.

'There you are,' he said before he passed
out.

At the hospital they gave Brendan twelve
stitches and a tetanus jab. They wrapped his hand in a bandage and told him to
take paracetamol every four hours.

'What happened?' asked Kerry for about the
tenth time.

'An accident,' said Brendan. 'Stupid, eh?
It really wasn't Mirrie's fault. If anyone was to blame it was me.'

I opened my mouth to speak. 'It wasn't...'
I began. 'It didn't...' Then I ground to a halt, choked by all the things I
couldn't say because no one would believe me and I didn't even know any more if
I believed myself. 'Fuck it,' I said, mostly to myself.

Brendan was smiling in a drowsy and
contented way. His head was on Kerry's shoulder and his bandaged hand lay in
her lap. His shirt was covered in splashes of blood.

'You two girls should make up,' he said.
'It was a stupid argument anyway. It's very nice of Mirrie to give us her flat
for a while you know, Kerry.'

Kerry stroked his hair off his forehead.
'I know,' she said softly. She looked up at me. 'OK,' she said. 'Thanks.' Then
she looked back at Brendan as if he were a war hero or something.

'These things happen in families,' said
Brendan and closed his eyes. 'Tiffs. I just want everyone to be happy.'

I left Kerry with him, holding his
unwounded hand, and went home to pack.

CHAPTER 15

Moving out had seemed like an essential
response to an emergency, like pulling the communication cord on a train. But
like so much in my life, it hadn't been properly thought out. I remembered a
friend of mine who had been at a dinner party. He'd got into a flaming row with
someone and finally shouted 'Fuck off!' at the other person and stormed out. As
he slammed the outside door behind him and walked down the steps to the
pavement, he realized that he had just stormed out of his own flat. He had to
turn round and ring humbly at his door to be readmitted.

Now I was outside and feeling foolish. I
had exited at high speed without a plan. On my second evening at Laura's I sat
up late with her, drinking a bottle of whisky that I had brought home with me,
along with half a dozen bottles of wine, some fresh ravioli and sauce from the
deli along from where I was working and a couple of bags of prepared salad.
Tony was spending the evening doing something laddish, so I made a meal for
just the two of us. It was good spending time with her like that. It took me
back to when we were at university, staying up all night. But we weren't at
university any more and we both had lives to lead. I wondered how long it would
take before her patience started to wear thin. I poured some more of the whisky
for both of us.

'You know,' I said, 'I associate whisky
with moments like this.' I was starting to slur my words a bit, but then so was
Laura. 'When I think of whisky and me and you, I think of very late nights and
one of us would be crying and then the other one would start crying as well and
we'd probably be smoking too. Like that time when I was on my bike and a taxi
ran into me, remember?'