Facing the Light (52 page)

‘I'll be back. In a couple of weeks. And then you must come round to dinner. Fiona's done amazing things to the dining room in the flat. You'll love it, really.'

‘I don't mean that, Efe. I don't mean I'll miss you now, while you're away. I'll miss our relationship. Blood brothers, remember?'

‘Of course I do! That's not going to change, Beth. You know how much you mean to me, don't you? You must do. I don't say stuff like this very often and I'm not very good at it, but I couldn't love you better if you were my own sister. Don't you know that?'

Beth nodded without saying anything. What would he say if she told him the truth? His whole, neat, carefully arranged and newly decorated life would suddenly alter beyond recognition. She made a vow never to say one word about how she felt. She'd protect him; his life, his happiness.

‘You still going out with, what was his name, Robert? Richard?' Efe asked.

‘Robin.'

‘Right. Silly sort of name for a bloke, I thought.'

‘Robin's very nice. But I'm not seeing him, no. I'm not seeing anyone at the moment.'

‘Then what're you doing hiding behind a curtain, when you could be out there finding a mate?'

‘I'm not in a mate-finding mood at the moment, Efe, really.'

‘Why? Is it that Robin? Has he messed you about? He'll have me to deal with if he has.'

‘Don't be so pompous, Efe, honestly! You sound like
my dad. I can look after myself. And no, he was nice. I dumped him.'

‘Got to go, Bethie,' Efe said. ‘Fiona's going to come down in a bit and I haven't said cheerio to Leonora or Mum and Dad. Give us a kiss goodbye.'

Beth closed her eyes and stood quite still as Efe leaned down to kiss her. For a long, blissful moment his body was so close to hers that she could feel its warmth through his clothes. His breath was on her face, and his lips on hers were for a second half-open; the kiss was so very nearly a proper kiss. If she were to open her mouth under the pressure, find his tongue with hers, twine her arms around his neck and press her entire body up against his … she should pull away now, before anything happened, before she lost control, but she was lost, lost in his smell and his taste and then, just like a dream, the kiss was over and he was walking away, looking over his shoulder at her and waving nonchalantly as though nothing had happened. That's it, she thought. That's all I'm going to get. Ever. She rested her head on the glass of the window and let the tears come, the ones she'd been holding back for hours, till the street outside blurred and smudged into a fog dotted with glittering points of light.

———

Fiona managed to tuck Douggie up in his bed with Brarey, his favourite cuddly, who was a pink fleece rabbit. She'd not shed a single tear while she sang him a song to soothe him. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and closed his eyes. Poor little thing, she thought. He's exhausted and I'll pay for this tonight. He'll never want to go to bed at his proper time if he has a sleep now. She found that she didn't care. She didn't care about anything but Efe and getting him back into a good mood.

What had got into him, down in the hall? Why had he
been so horrible to her? More and more she was finding it hard to understand him and even harder to make up with him after quarrels. In the first months of their marriage, she had only to press her body against his and he would turn to her and make a moaning noise in his throat and they'd sink down on to the bed or the floor and once or twice they'd even done it standing up, in the kitchen against the sink.

They'd made love this morning, while Gwen was looking after Douggie. He'd laid her down on the bed and lifted her skirt above her waist and pulled her knickers off and pushed into her urgently and quickly, panting as he kissed the side of her neck. Fiona's body was still humming with pleasure, even though Efe hadn't said a word to her from beginning to end. Before that, though, the last time they'd made love (she couldn't even think of it in her own mind as anything else, much less say aloud the words that everyone seemed to utter at every available opportunity) was more than three weeks ago. She had no idea whether that was normal for people who'd been married for nearly four years.

She hadn't managed to work out in all that time what to do to bring Efe out of his black moods when lovemaking was out of the question. She didn't know whether he'd be annoyed with her if she stood up for herself, or if she apologized. The truth was she could never find the right words. Maybe I
am
just a pretty face, she thought, and a stupid one at that.

Efe came into the room, and Fiona didn't dare to ask him where he'd been. He went and stood at the window while she hovered rather tentatively before making up her mind to move across to the dressing-table. Once she was sitting safely in front of the mirror, she pretended to be doing her hair and kept an eye on Efe at the same time. She could see him reflected in the glass. She was about to say something neutral about Douggie being exhausted
when Efe spoke to her. He didn't look in her direction, but went on staring out of the window.

‘Alex is a fucking goody-goody,' he said. ‘Bloody cheek he's got interfering in my marriage.'

Fiona had been full of gratitude for Alex's uncharacteristically macho behaviour, and she was still hurting from her husband's unkind words, but it didn't do to disagree with Efe when he was in this mood so she agreed with him instead.

‘I know,' she said, and then rather guiltily, ‘I don't expect he meant any harm.'

Efe didn't answer for a while. Then, still not looking at her, he said, ‘I'm sorry, Fi. I don't know what got into me. I shouldn't have been so foul. It's all the uncertainty. About the pictures, you know. I'll be myself again when Leonora's made her decision.'

‘That's okay,' said Fiona, amazed to get any apology at all. He found it almost impossible, she knew, to say the word ‘sorry'. ‘I knew you were joking.'

‘Course I was,' said Efe, and Fiona knew he was lying but didn't care because his tone was lighter and the mood, she could see, was lifting. ‘I'm going down now, Fiona. I could do with a drink, I can tell you, after all that. See you.'

He left the room, blowing her a casual kiss as he went. Tears welled up in Fiona's eyes. He never includes me, she thought, feeling increasingly sorry for herself. She could forgive his temper, his bad moods, being bruised when he took hold of her too roughly when he was angry, even being hit, if only he really, really loved her and wanted her with him all the time. He doesn't care, she thought, whether I'm around or not, most of the time. That's what hurts. I could be on another planet and he wouldn't even notice. Her tears spilled on to her cheeks and she brushed them away quickly. I'll have a nice cool bath, she thought, and then get ready for
dinner. I'll put my hair up. I'll put a cool cloth over my eyes and lie in the water and rest.

She was on her way to the bathroom when she noticed that Efe had left his mobile phone on the table beside the bed. It wasn't like him to put it down and forget about it, especially not today when she knew he was expecting a call from Reuben Stronsky. She'd wondered whether it had been sensible to invite the poor man all the way over from America if the chances were that Leonora wouldn't give in over the matter of the pictures, but Efe assured her that Mr Stronsky was so charming he might even be able to sway Leonora. Fiona doubted it, but she certainly wasn't going to provoke a row by disagreeing with Efe.

She picked up the phone and saw at once that there was a text message for her husband. She hesitated, looking at the silver rectangle in her hand. She'd been brought up never to read other people's letters, and also believed that eavesdroppers never heard any good of themselves, but this was a little different. It might be an urgent message from Mr Stronsky that Efe needed to know about at once. She was ready for her bath and didn't fancy traipsing around Willow Court in nothing but her kimono looking for him, but if the call really
was
important, she could dress again and go and find him and have a bath later on.

Fiona sat on the bed, pressed the tiny silver button and saw that Efe was being asked whether he'd received some call or other. I'll listen to it, she thought, and only go and find him if it's urgent. It turned out to be a call from someone in Efe's office who actually said he'd be happy to wait till Tuesday. Before she'd had time to switch the message off, another recording of an old call began. She should have turned it off, there and then, but it was a woman's voice and once she'd heard the first few words, she had to go on listening.

For some moments after the voice stopped speaking,
she didn't move. Not a muscle, not an eyelash. If I move, she thought, I'll fall into pieces. She was aware of her whole body trembling. Her mouth was dry and she was suddenly freezing cold in spite of the heat of the day. It was a mistake. It had to be. Something vile and malign had made its way into her head. Perhaps she was going mad and had imagined it. Or maybe there was such a thing as a phone virus, like an email virus, that got into mobiles and soiled them. Made them revolting. It isn't true, Fiona said to herself. It can't be. This isn't happening. Not to me.

She forced herself to breathe. Breathe in, breathe out, and calm down. She knew that before she did anything else, she had to listen to that hideous message again. The hope flashed into her mind for a second that maybe the call was a wrong number. Did the person actually mention Efe's name? She had to know. She pressed the button again and the voice, distorted by distance and made thick by lust, spoke into her ear again.

Efe darling
. There they were, the very words she was dreading. The worst words, those she'd have given anything not to hear.
Efe darling. It's me. Can you guess what I'm doing? I wish it was you doing it, sweetheart, just exactly as you did last time but maybe it won't be too long. I can't bear the waiting, I want you so much. Tomorrow. Will there be a chance for us to go somewhere for a bit in the afternoon? Otherwise I might disgrace myself … oh, God, Efe, I'm longing for you. I need you. Can you hear how much I need you?

Fiona went on listening through several seconds of groaning and sighing. Oh, God, oh, God, how revolting and loathsome! She flung the phone away from her and it fell on the floor. I don't care. I don't care if it's broken. I can't breathe. Oh, Jesus, God. She closed her eyes and fell back on the bed, hurting too much even to cry. She stood up again. Her body burned as though someone had
stripped her slowly of every bit of her skin. Her head was filled with disgusting images of Efe caressing that person – who was she? – touching her till she was panting and moaning like she had been on the phone. Fiona put a hand over her mouth, certain that she was going to throw up, but she didn't, and the feeling passed. Her forehead was damp with the cold sweat that accompanied the nausea.

She walked over to the window in a daze. She had no idea when the call had come, but Efe hadn't deleted it. He'd kept it, and there was only one reason for him to do that; it turned him on to listen to it over and over again. For a moment she was so enraged that if Efe had been there, in the room with her, she would have stabbed him with a nail file or something and not have felt the slightest twinge of remorse.

Fiona looked down at her husband's car, parked near the top of the drive. The keys were still on the bedside table. I don't have to stay here, she thought suddenly. I don't want to see him and I don't have to. I don't have to be anywhere near him ever again if I don't want to. I can leave. I can pack up and leave. Her mind raced. They'll all be busy somewhere, talking and talking and making arrangements for the party. I don't want to go to the bloody party. Fuck the party.

She went to the wardrobe and took out the larger of the two suitcases they'd brought with them and started to throw her clothes into it. She wouldn't write a note. What could she say? For a moment she wondered whether to leave a message on Efe's phone that he would hear straight after hers, whoever she was. No, fuck him. If he wanted to speak to her,
he
could leave a message on
her
phone, couldn't he? She didn't feel like saying another word to him ever again, though she probably would have to, one day. Just not now. It was a good thing Douggie was having a nap. She wouldn't wake him until she was ready to go. What would Efe say when he
discovered she'd taken the car? He'd go ballistic. He would come home by train, and serve him right, only she wouldn't be there. She'd get to her parents' house before it was time for them to leave for Willow Court. Mummy would be cross to miss the party. She'd been looking forward to it. Leonora would be cross that two people who said they'd come wouldn't be there. It would spoil the table plans. Well, fuck the table plans. On Tuesday morning, her father would make her an appointment with his lawyer. Daddy would look after her.

Tears sprang into Fiona's eyes at the thought of how little Efe would probably miss her. He'd miss Douggie all right, and what would become of the new baby? The thought of her – Fiona was sure the baby would be a girl – was the final straw and she covered her face with her hands and sobbed uncontrollably.

Some minutes later, having wept more tears than she thought was humanly possible and with the breath ragged in her throat, Fiona sat up. She picked the mobile phone up from where she'd flung it, and deleted the message. Now Efe would know she'd heard it. He'd know, and, what's more, he wouldn't be able to listen to it however much he might want to.

*

‘I'm not sure I get it,' said Alex. He was in Efe's room, sitting on Douggie's bed. Efe himself was staring out of the window and not saying much. Far too much was going on for Alex's liking. He was still light-headed from what had happened in the kitchen with Beth. Still couldn't believe it, and kept going over and over it in his mind, reduced to being like a teenager again, unable to concentrate on anything other than her, than Beth. Just saying her name in his head gave him pleasure. As soon as she'd gone into the garden, he'd started worrying. She was just being kind. She loved Efe, and was only making do with him because she was angry with his elder
brother. She'd come to her senses and realize she didn't really mean it. That kiss. But he knew she did. He'd felt it in every part of her body, held close to his. He shook his head to dispel this memory, which was threatening to push every other thought he'd ever had straight out of his head.