Breaking Joseph (38 page)

I threw my arms
around his neck. When he recovered, he squeezed me back in a crush
of freshly laundered cotton and solid chest.

“Why?”

“God. Leila.”
He gazed at the pavement, his fists plunging into his pockets. “I
knew you weren’t coming with me after last weekend. At the
party.”

“I was–”

“No, you
weren’t. Not really. You even said it.” He pressed his lips
together. “I just…I couldn’t be that guy. And we’d have been
miserable. This way, you’re happy, right? I wanted to give you
that.”

“Don’t make me
cry again.” I tried to hold trembling shoulders stiff. “Why would
you do that for me?”

“You know
why.”

I gave a little
sob and cocked my head back toward Joseph. “You hate him.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I
do.” He rolled glassy eyes. “But you know, without him, I’d never
have been with you. And I don’t regret that I was.”

“Me either.” I
reached up and straightened the collar of his rugby shirt. “You’re
so lovely, Matt. You’re going to find someone perfect, you know.
Someone who…” Erm. “Someone who isn’t a whore would be a
start.”

A soft laugh
emerged from beneath his thick hair. “Maybe.”

“I mean it.” I
remembered what Aidan had predicted and I wished, just for a
second, that I could turn him into the man he might have been.

Might still
become, one day.

I lunged back
at him for one last hug. “Thank you. Thank you.”

“He better
fucking make you happy.”

“I’ll threaten
him with Cockspank’s first album.”

“Oi. Don’t push
your luck.” He pinched my waist, and I swatted him, giggling.

“Look,” said
Dad huffily. “Are we going? Because there’s a parking warden over
there looking more pissed than–”

“Dad.” Fuck.
“Apparently…apparently we’re not going, no.”

Dad glanced at
Joseph, then at Matt, and finally to me. “Who’s the tosser in the
posh jumper?”

Matt cleared
his throat loudly and I led Dad away. The blood crashed against my
pulse points in waves.

“Dad,” I said
nervously, “this is Joseph Merchant. My boyfriend.”

Joseph held out
a hand; I’m sure it was shaking, just slightly. “It’s a pleasure to
meet you, Mr Vaughn,” he said.

Dad pumped his
hand hesitantly. “Merchant–weren’t you her boss?”

“I was.” Joe
tried not to squint.

Dad’s upper lip
twitched; he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or slightly
disgusted. “Jesus, Leila.
Again
?”

Joseph stifled
a grin. “I’m a fair bit younger than Flemming, if that helps.”

Dad studied him
for a second and then started to chuckle. “It’s a start.” He leaned
in to me. “What do you think you’re doing to poor Matthew?”

“It’s okay,
Dad. He set all this up.” I found myself beaming at Matt. “He’ll be
all right.”

“Will he?”

Matt mouthed
something at Joseph, who gave a silent response. Then he climbed
into his car and started the engine.

“I think so,
yeah.”

Dad put a hand
over his eyes to check for parking wardens again. “So what happens
now?”

“I don’t know.
Um.” I glanced at Joseph. “Any ideas?”

Our fingers
tangled, palms melted together. We hadn’t held hands like this in
public since a walk in the park a few weeks ago when he first
hinted that he wanted more than an hour-long slot in my life. Now I
stared at the broad-shouldered figure he cut in the sunshine, and
shivered–
mine
. Mine, mine, mine. And not a knife in
sight.

Did that mean I
was still whole?

“I didn’t plan
much further than this.” God, his eyes were even greener than
usual. “But I’d like to take your dad for lunch. If he wants
to.”

“I’ve not long
had breakfast.” Dad laughed.

“The pub,
then.”

“Sounds good to
me.” Dad’s car keys jingled as he held them aloft. “Need to park
somewhere though. And shouldn’t have more than one.”

“I can sort you
out. Pull around the corner to the blue BMW, the one by the
bushes–then you can follow me.”

Dad shuffled
off to start the car again, and then we were walking. Together.
Alone. If he’d slipped through my fingers like a spectre, I would
have believed it. Would have mourned all over again,
regardless.

I squeezed his
hand. “You meanie.”

“What?”

“Expecting me
to behave myself with you in public for the next few hours.” I
could’ve torn the flesh off those forearms and devoured him, still
alive. No chance of escape then…

“Oh.” He
smirked. “You won’t starve, Leila.”

“Wolves are
good with just beer, are they?”

An arm wrapped
around my waist, tugging me back to a hard torso. Warm breath
poured over my neck. Ah, ah. He turned me, peeled his shirt from
the belt that secured it, and pressed my fingertips to the faint
raise of an
L
that curved about his smooth hipbone.

“They do like a
fine cask ale, if you’re asking,” he murmured. “But remember…
wolves eat little girls too.”

Epilogue

Snow fell in
February, and London was unprepared.

Streets were
made of white velvet that creaked pleasingly underfoot, roads
stuffed with last night’s abandoned vehicles, now thick with powder
after a night of blizzards and ink. All around, the trees were
frosted lollipops and the sun winked through loaded clouds.

Wonderland, and
Eden frozen over.

Joseph had no
apples, it transpired. No rabbits either. What he did have was a
pleasing array of cards to lay on the table and one by one, we
pieced together a life in hearts and spades.

The past six
months had been fraught and busy. With Joseph’s help, I worked for
free for a little while in order to qualify. We spent two months in
New York; we networked and hobnobbed and got incredibly drunk at
Kenji and Elise’s wedding. There was a flying visit to Stockholm,
where he stayed while I returned to help my parents finally pack up
the house. The new office had been opened and I was as excited
about owning a photocopier as I was about the way business flooded
in.

Did I ask
Joseph what had gone on with Matt? You bet. Did I get it out of
him? Bah, no. Neither of them would talk, actually. All I know is
that it involved a bottle of very good vodka, but they never did
shake hands.

Now, I made my
way to another past home: Clemmie still lived in my little old flat
and insisted on playing hostess.

Aidan greeted
me at the door.

“What the hell
have you done to your hair?” I reached up to tug on his short
quiff.

“I had it all
lopped off.” He pulled me into a hug. “There wasn’t much point in
keeping the curls when I didn’t have to match my playmate
anymore.”

“It suits
you.”

“Hello,
stranger.” Matt smiled at me from the sofa. A messy box covered in
knobs and wires sat in his lap.

“Hey.” I sank
down next to him. “That’s a synthesizer, right?”

“Correct. Have
a Smartie.” He gestured to Aidan. “We’ve been writing songs.”

I winced.
“Really?”

“Oh, fuck off,
Lei-Lei. We can’t all be globe-trotting superwhores. Yet,” said
Aidan. “Clem! Will you get a move on with dinner? I’m going to
expire, or whine. Or something.”

“Are you
chopping these onions or what?” she called from the kitchen.

“What do I look
like, your fucking slave?” Aidan sighed as he went to join her.
“You see what I have to put up with? Bossy cow.”

“What have you
been up to, then?” I said to Matt. “How’s the job working out?”

“Good. Really
good, actually.” He twisted on the sofa, draping himself over the
back. “Although I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be a lawyer.”

“Oh?”

A faint blush
crept along his cheekbones. “We scored a development deal last
month. My band, that is.”

“Oh gosh. Matt,
that’s awesome.” I gave his arm a squeeze and the blush deepened.
“Oh my God!”

“Yeah. Huh.” He
fiddled with a synthesizer wire. “What about you, then? Last time I
saw you, you’d only just qualified.”

It was before
Christmas, when Clem cooked dinner and I made the mince pies.

I dug a purse
out of my Mulberry bag and presented him with a thick ivory
business card.

Matt scanned it
before handing it back. “Merchant Deity. Wow.” He frowned.
“Shouldn’t your name be on here? After…”

After I
invested most of my money? I lowered my gaze just a little, trying
not to smile. “My name kind of
is
on it.”

“Oh.” His eyes
widened. “
Oh.
Congratulations.”

“Not yet. Not
for a while.”

“Well. When
they’re due,” Matt said softly.

Somewhere in
our apartment, an emerald sat in a locked drawer. Waiting. I wasn’t
ready to put it on, nor was Joseph close to asking. All the same,
he’d had it reset on a band for my third finger without so much as
a mention. I came home one day and it sat in a polished box on top
of his heap of new novels, just there.
Do you like it?
Joseph had asked. I nodded.
Good,
he’d said.
My Gramma
thinks it’ll suit you
. A bit of me liked to think it would,
though I’d yet to try it on.

Clemmie emerged
from the kitchen with two steaming plates.

“Harlot.” She
beamed as she passed one to me. “I’m going to teach you to cook
eventually, and we can swap for once.”

I sprang up to
hug her. “You sit down, have this one. I’ll go and help Aid.”

She rolled her
eyes at Matt. “If I did let her cook, it’d be ice cream for
dinner.”

Matt smiled
knowingly. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Aidan sloshed
wine into Clemmie’s jewel-coloured glasses, and I prodded him in
the back.

“Make mine a
little one. I need to be sober.”

“Why? Did the
Marquis buy a trapeze?”

“Sod off. I’ll
never get home drunk, not in this weather.” I helped myself to a
fork from the drawer and leaned against the counter to eat. “So
how’s business?”

“Busy. What
I’ve done of it, anyway.” He handed me a drink. “I’ve got a couple
of new performing partners now but none of them are quite the
same.” He snorted in disgust. “They bleed too much during
anal.”

I clapped a
hand to my face, trying not to snigger with my mouth full.
“Aidan!”

“What?” He
batted his eyelashes innocently.

“You should
teach them. Like you did for me.”

“Ahh,
memories.” He sighed. “I’ve tried, Lei-Lei. Nobody has a sphincter
quite as retractable as yours, it seems.”

“I’ll take that
as a compliment,” I grumbled. “Ooh, I almost forgot. What happened
with that restraining order?”

Aidan gawped at
me for a second–I did remember that properly, right?

“Nikolai?” I
prompted.

He slumped
against the counter in badly disguised relief. “Oh. That.” He stuck
his tongue out. “Well, it’s calmed the poor boy down a bit. I can’t
drink at his bar anymore but I suppose it’s for the best, after all
those roofies.”

“You’re not
even joking, are you?” I giggled.

“Nope.”

I clinked my
glass to his. “To picking lovers who aren’t psychopaths.”

“Indeed.
Speaking of which.” He grinned at me. “Any more stories to tell
me?”

“What, from New
York? Mmm.” I twisted a ringlet around my finger. “Nothing I didn’t
tell you last time, I think.”

“I can’t
believe you’ve got a proper girlfriend,” he teased. “I suppose I
should teach you the secret bi handshake. Do you know if Clem’s got
any lube?”

“She’s not
really my girlfriend.” A flush crept up from beneath my dress.
“Elise, that is.”

“As good as.
You need to take pictures,” he said, straight-faced.

“That’s what
Joe keeps telling me.”

“Looky here.”
Aidan nudged me and nodded toward the sofa. “Matt and Clemmie.”

“What?” Oh God.
I recognized those pensive little smiles. “Oh. Matt and Clemmie,” I
repeated, staring in fascination and disbelief. “Have they…”

“Not yet. But
just look at them–classic fuck me poses.”

They leaned in
together, giggling and prodding each other with the cutlery.

I cleared my
throat. “That’s quite weird.”

“It’s
borderline incestuous,” Aidan said cheerfully, “but we both know
how much fun that is.”

Why hadn’t I
noticed before? They made sense, when I thought about it. “She’s
too fiery to be vanilla wife,” I decided.

“Which is a
bloody good job, isn’t it? Quick, where’s the laptop? We’ll order
them some paddles for Valentine’s Day.”

“I think I’ll
let you do that.” I patted his hand before I reached for my phone,
now vibrating out of my pocket. “I’ve got to run.”

“Already?”

“I’ll be back
later tonight, I promise.” I stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the
cheek. “I’ll bring some vodka too. Got some fab stuff in
Sweden.”

“I want a blond
tart next time,” he called after me. “A slutty one!”

I said goodbye
to Matt and Clemmie, and hurried back down to the lift. When I
reached the glass doors, the snow had begun to drift down again and
I could barely see past the end of the road.

A familiar
figure stood a few feet away, pouring a pale silhouette over the
snow.

I fell into
step with him. “Good meeting?”

Joe took my
gloved hand. “Not bad, considering that they’re all stuck in the
country for a good week longer than planned.” He smiled down at me.
“How about you?”

“I was
distracted.”

He cocked a
snowy eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I’ve got a
complaint to make, Mr Merchant. You haven’t fucked me in our new
office yet.”

“I haven’t,
have I?” He rubbed the snow off his watch. “It’ll be fucking
freezing in there, you know.”

“Can’t get much
colder than Stockholm.”