Losing You (18 page)

Her father was dead; Russ had gone, he was inside with her best friend.

Picking up her phone she pressed in his number.

Would he ignore the call when he saw it was her?

Would he dare to answer and lie?

There were six rings before he picked up.

‘I know where you are,’ she told him, gazing along the black drive towards the house.

Shaking himself awake, Russ rolled away from Fiona as he said, ‘What are you doing? Where are you?’

‘If you look outside you’ll see me.’

Russ got up from the bed, his heart thudding with disbelief as he went to the window and parted the heavy drapes. At the end of the drive two headlights were staring straight at him like the eyes of a predator.

Surely to God, it couldn’t be her.

‘Sylvie, what are you doing?’ he cried.

‘I came to see you,’ she told him, ‘but you were already on your way out, so I followed you here.’

His head was thumping, the world was turning crazy. ‘What the hell for?’ he shouted. ‘What are you trying to prove?’

‘My point. And I think I have. Does she think she’s the only one?’

Turning from the window, he began snatching up his clothes.

‘Let me speak to my friend,’ she said.

Ignoring her, he put a hand over the phone as he said to Fiona, ‘She’s outside.’

Getting up from the bed, Fiona reached for a robe. ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.

Right now he had no clear idea, but he couldn’t let Sylvie just sit there, gazing through the bars like a preying, or wounded, animal pleading to come in.

‘Is she drunk?’

‘I don’t know, but I think we have to assume she is.’ Going back on the line, he said, ‘I’m coming out.’

‘Why?’

‘Why do you think?’ he almost yelled. ‘I don’t know what the hell’s got into you. Are you going to start stalking me now, is that what this is about?’

‘You have no right to be angry with me ...’

‘I have every damned right.’

‘You said you wanted me to come home.’

‘But not like this. Couldn’t you have rung? For Christ’s sake, why am I even having this conversation?’ and ending the call he threw the phone on the bed and hauled on his trousers.

‘I should call a taxi,’ Fiona suggested. ‘If she’s drunk, we can’t let her drive away from here.’

Before he could answer he heard a loud crash outside and whipped back the curtains again. ‘Jesus Christ, she’s trying to ram down the gates.’

By the time he’d raced downstairs and thrown open the front door she was already driving away.

‘I’ll have to go after her,’ he said, as Fiona joined him at the door.

‘But you can’t!’ she protested. ‘You’re over the limit.’

His eyes closed in frustration.

‘Call her and tell her to go to your place. At least it’s not as far.’

Back upstairs, he snatched up his phone and pressed in the number.

No reply.

To her voicemail he said, ‘Sylvie, I want you to go to Clyde Court. Do you hear me? Please don’t drive back into Bristol tonight. I’ve been drinking so I’ll have to get a taxi, but I’ll meet you there.’

*

Oliver was sprawled out on a sofa, a beer in one hand, a spliff in the other and Lara Patel’s beautiful dark legs hooked indelicately over his. There were bodies everywhere, writhing to the beat, lolling about the floor, swaying in groups, smooching against walls ...

Last seen, Jerome was on his way to a bedroom to live his dream with Kimberley Walsh, who’d admitted to being in the video and was prepared to prove it, if Oliver was interested. He might have been, because he’d had enough to drink by then, but he’d promised Jerome, and Kimberley hadn’t seemed too bothered about who wished to see proof of her exploit. Nor did Jerome seem very bothered by the fact that Alfie had already been there tonight, and a couple more blokes were probably lined up to take over once he’d finished.

She was a girl, Kimberley Walsh.

A slut, was what Thea had called her, and Oliver couldn’t really argue with that.

He had no idea where Thea was now, nor did he care. All she’d been interested in was his mother’s appearance on the news a couple of days ago, and why he’d never told her his father was famous.

Who the hell cared that his father
used
to be famous?

What did it have to do with anything, for Christ’s sake?

All he wanted was to forget about his effing family for once and have a good time.

He’d been able to tell from the way Thea had rubbed herself against him when they’d danced that things would go his way if he played it right tonight, but though he’d started to, he’d soon found that he was more interested in having another drink and a smoke than he was in getting it on with her. Maybe it was the fawning tone of her questions that had turned him off, or perhaps he’d never really fancied her anyway. He wasn’t going to bother analysing it. What was the point? She meant nothing to him.

Resting a hand on Lara’s thigh, he took another deep drag of the spliff and let his head roll back against the sofa as he passed it on. Lara turned his face to hers and gazed into his eyes.

‘Hey you,’ he murmured softly.

‘Hey you,’ she murmured back.

As they started to kiss he felt the desire for it draining away.

‘What’s wrong?’ she frowned as he stopped.

He put a hand on her face, gazed at her mouth and tried again. This time it worked, and as the kiss deepened and his head started to swim he felt himself rising towards a place he really wanted to be.

Then a swathe of freezing air blew across the room.

They both looked round and peered through the fug to see what was going on over by the door. Some girls had turned up.

‘It’s Milly Butler and her friends,’ Lisa, their hostess, declared. She was wrapped around her boyfriend on a nearby chair and didn’t bother getting up, merely waved to the newcomers and told them to help themselves to anything.

Resuming the kiss with Lara, Oliver started using his tongue and raking his fingers through her hair.

‘Do you want another drink?’ he asked when they paused to take in air.

‘Sure,’ she replied.

‘Another of the same?’

She nodded and swung her legs to the floor to let him get up. He staggered and almost fell on to her.

In the kitchen he found Rob and a few others engaged in heavy debate about something serious, though it didn’t sound as though any of them knew exactly what it was. He cracked another beer and dashed some Bacardi into the glass he’d brought with him.

‘Hey!’ Rob called, pulling him over. ‘You know all about this.’

‘All about what?’

‘The technique they use to transmit images from lunar modules.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ Oliver protested.

‘No. Nathan here reckons ...’

‘I’m out of here,’ Oliver interrupted.

As he made his way back into the main room he saw a
couple of the newcomers chatting to Lara, so leaning over the back of the sofa he put her drink in her hand and went to join Alfie, who was studying a surreal-looking portrait on a wall between two windows.

‘Someone you know?’ Oliver quipped.

Alfie turned to look at him, too stoned to register who he was straight away. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he slurred. ‘Thought you were with Lara.’

‘I am, sort of. How come you’re on your own?’

‘I’m with the one who looks like Duffy. Forgotten her name ... She’s gone to the loo.’

Feeling his mobile vibrating in his pocket, Oliver fished it out, and seeing it was his mother an angry darkness came over him. He turned it off, but a moment later turned it back on. She was ringing again. ‘What?’ he barked into it, moving towards an empty corner so no one would hear.

‘It’s Mum,’ she told him.

‘I
know
. What is it?’

‘I am calling,’ she said haltingly, ‘because I went to see your father ... He is with someone else and I am very sorry, Oliver, but I cannot bear to go on like this ...’

‘Mum, for Christ’s sake ...’

‘Please listen,’ she begged. ‘I am so very unhappy. It is too difficult for me this way ... I love you very much, you know that, don’t you?’

His insides were starting to burn hot with fear. ‘I’m not listening to any more of this ...’

‘No, don’t hang up. I must say goodbye to you and make sure that you know ...’

‘Just stop.’ His voice rose. ‘If you’re saying what I think you are ...’

‘Yes, I am,
chéri
, but don’t worry. Everything will be fine.
Ca serait mieux si je partais
...’

‘Mum, don’t do this to me,’ he cried, and thrusting his drink at Alfie he began stumbling and crashing over bodies to get out of the room. ‘I’m coming, OK, just don’t do anything before I get there.’

Lauren was trying very hard not to be upset and angry, she understood that things didn’t always go the way they
were supposed to, but she just couldn’t help feeling crushed by the way tonight had turned out. She’d been so looking forward to it, had bought her dress specially
and
brought her flute. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Donna had been there, at least then she’d have had someone to talk to. Donna had really wanted to come, but at the last minute her dad had suddenly said they were spending too much time gadding about in the week, never telling anyone where they were going, and he’d had enough. Donna needed to knuckle down and study this weekend.

Lauren had written in her journal earlier, kind of to keep herself company while she was waiting and still feeling seriously wicked and excited. The book was tucked inside her flute case now, the big padded one that Granny had bought her for Christmas with pockets for sheet music and her thumbport and cleaning rods. Everything had been in a state of readiness, her journal to record all that had happened, her flute to play, and Lauren herself to perform.

What a waste of time it had all turned out to be, and now to make everything worse she was bloody well lost. It was so dark out and the country lanes so similar with their gloomily clustering hedgerows and sharply twisting bends that it was almost impossible to pick out a landmark she might recognise. Was she even in the vicinity of somewhere familiar?

Feeling a shudder of nerves loosening her insides, she took some comfort from the fact that her mum had remembered to fill up the tank with petrol so at least she wouldn’t run out, and sooner or later she was bound to come across a village she’d heard of, or, even better, a signpost to a place she knew. It might not bring her out exactly where she wanted to be, but at least she’d stand a better chance of finding her way home if she had some directions to guide her.

She thought about calling Melissa to see if she could help, but what was the point if she couldn’t even tell Melissa where she was? Besides, it was one thirty in the morning, so Melissa was either still out clubbing, or maybe even already all tucked up and safe and warm in her bed. What
she wouldn’t give to be in her own bed! She’d rather be almost anywhere than wandering around out here in the great black beyond, no longer even sure if she was heading in the right direction.

The digital clock on her dashboard was reading 1.34 when, almost by chance, it was so obscured by branches, she spotted a signpost to Lulsgate airport. With a dizzying sigh of relief she indicated to turn left, and after driving up a small, winding hill she found herself descending to a two-way stretch of road that she felt sure looked familiar. Yes, it did, because she remembered passing the oddly petrified tree in front of her when she was on her way out – it looked like a woman’s bouffant taking off in the wind. She wasn’t sure what it was close to, but at least she knew she’d come this way.

Feeling less tense now, she pressed down on the accelerator to speed things along and was just turning up the music when she realised, to her confusion, that instead of going faster she seemed to be slowing down. She pressed harder on the accelerator, and harder still, but to her alarm the engine was definitely losing power. Trying not to panic she checked the petrol gauge, but of course she wasn’t running out, so she kicked the pedal again and again, but instead of surging ahead the car only continued to slow down.

Feeling the presence of real fear closing in on her from the darkness, she steered the car to the side of the road, where it eventually rolled to a stop. She tried starting the engine again, but there was no more than a click as she turned the key. Nothing was happening at all.

‘You’re supposed to be fixed,’ she cried, banging the steering wheel. ‘You can’t let me down now.’

Rigid and too scared to peer into the darkness around her, she forced herself to wait a couple of minutes, then turned the key again.

The same dull clicks.

She had to call her mother. It didn’t matter that she had no clear idea of where she was, somehow they’d work it out, her mother would come and everything would be fine. Taking out her phone she pressed in the number, only to
discover when the connection failed that she had no reception.

‘No, no, no!’ she exclaimed furiously. ‘This can’t be happening.’

Tearing off her seat belt, she swivelled on to her knees and leaned over to the back seat with her phone. Still no reception. She held it to the passenger window, and out of her own window, but not even one bar charged. Almost as angry as she was afraid, she got out of the car and stormed across to the other side of the road. There had to be a better reception over there.

There wasn’t.

She ran up the road a little way, but there was still nothing.

‘Oh God,’ she sobbed, and shivered. What the hell was she going to do?

Everything was so quiet, and still, and
cold
. No cars were passing at all, there weren’t even any planes overhead, much good they would do her even if there were. She could hardly follow one, could she? But at least she’d have an idea where the airport was, if she only had a car that would go.

A rustle in the undergrowth close by shot her with terror. She knew it had to be an animal, but her imagination was managing to conjure far worse.

There was nothing else for it, she’d have to walk, though God knew how when she was wearing five-inch heels and when it was so cold that the countryside tucked into her narrow view was glistening with frost and her teeth were chattering so hard. She didn’t even know how far it was, or which direction to take apart from straight ahead, and what if someone had turned the signposts around? She might be out here all night. She could even freeze to death. She definitely would if she didn’t have her coat. How she loved her mother in that moment for making her bring it.