Never Close Your Eyes (28 page)

It was as if he'd cut out her heart himself and flung it, bloody and trembling, on to the railway line ahead.

She spotted Bill halfway down the road, under the streetlight. He was hunched over his gate; he seemed to be fiddling with something. She prayed he'd go inside. She couldn't speak to him. The minute she opened her mouth the tears would gush out.

He heard her footsteps and looked up. ‘Evie!' He smiled and the creases around his eyes deepened. ‘I was trying to fix this latch,' he explained, pointing at the gate. ‘There's something wrong with it.'

Stupid latch. As if it mattered.

She waved a hand at him as if to say, ‘Not now.'

He took a step closer and examined her face under the lamplight. ‘What's the matter?'

She shook her head. She was trying so hard to hold the tears back. Why was he giving her that intense look of his? Couldn't he see that she needed to be left alone?

He opened his arms and she stumbled into them. He didn't even move. He was a rock. He was in his old, falling-apart Barbour jacket, the one he usually wore to the allotment. It smelled of earth and woodsmoke.

She clamped her mouth shut and pressed it against the material to stop herself howling. He was very still, his arms wrapped around her, his body absorbing her shudders. Her hands sought out the gap between his jacket and his jumper and her own arms snaked around his middle. He felt strong, lean and sturdy, like a tree. She could have stayed there like that for ever.

After a few moments she realised what she was doing and pulled away. ‘I'm sorry,' she said, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her coat. ‘You must think I'm such an idiot.'

She was conscious of the empty space between them.

‘I was supposed to be meeting this man in Sloane Square,' she rattled on. She felt that she owed Bill an explanation. ‘I'd only known him since Saturday but I really liked him and I thought he really liked me. He stood me up.'

She didn't look at Bill; she was embarrassed. But she was aware that he was listening carefully. She carried on wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

‘I can't believe he didn't even phone,' she choked. ‘It's brutal. I feel so humiliated. I feel like no one will ever want me.' She started to cry again.

Bill seemed to want to say something. Maybe she'd made him uncomfortable, told him too much. ‘Cup of tea – or something stronger?' he said at last. His voice was measured and low.

She was torn; she'd like to very much, but she needed to speak to Zelda.

She shook her head. ‘I have to call someone,' she said. ‘This psychic person. She's brilliant, you should try her.' She managed a little laugh. It was bizarre to think of Bill talking to a clairvoyant. She couldn't imagine it.

He frowned. ‘I don't like them. I think they're dangerous. Most of them are frauds. They take your money, spout a load of nonsense and put ideas in your head. I should stay away if I were you. It's the last thing you need.'

She put a hand on his shoulder. ‘You're such a cynic.'

‘I'm not.' He sounded cross. ‘Quite the opposite. I just don't want you getting hurt.'

‘I'll be all right.' She paused. ‘Anyway, where have you been?' She was keen to change the subject. He must have been coming back from somewhere. He wouldn't be fixing the gate at this time otherwise.

‘Working.'

‘Working?' she said, surprised. ‘What sort of work?'

‘Private tutorial.' He put his hands in his pockets. ‘I do a bit of coaching now and again. Sometimes I go there, sometimes they come here. I quite enjoy it.'

‘I didn't know.' She crossed her arms. ‘How many students do you have?'

He ignored her question. ‘If I were you I'd give that man a wide berth. If he calls and tries to make up to you, I'd tell him where to go.'

‘I will,' she said.

‘Will you be all right?'

She nodded.

‘Sure you don't want to talk?'

‘I'm sure.'

He pushed open his wonky gate and walked slowly up the garden path. She heard him sigh. She wondered why, but she had other things on her mind.

Chapter Twenty-Five

‘Shall I put it on yer usual card, darlin'?'

‘Yes,' said Evie.

Zelda stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray beside her and settled back in the armchair. Her back twinged. It wasn't so good these days. She shuffled around until she was comfortable. She was getting old. ‘Now then,' she said. ‘What can I do for you?'

Evie was crying a lot, making choking noises. It was difficult to make out what she was saying.

Zelda had to strain. She caught the words ‘party', ‘tall and handsome', ‘stood up' and ‘tube station'. She got the gist of it. Some bloke had stood her up. Zelda didn't have much sympathy. Blokes always let you down one way or another. Derek had gone behind her back and let her down big time, that's for sure. Then when the shit hit the fan he was nowhere to be found. He'd slunk off, the little creep, got some job in Kent. How convenient!

‘Dear, dear,' she soothed. ‘You've had a rotten day. Shall I give you a readin'?'

‘Yes, please,' Evie replied.

Zelda took a deep breath and tried to focus. ‘Now close yer eyes,' she said, ‘while I make a connection.'

She paused. ‘Good, that's good. I've got one of me favourite spirits.' She shuffled in her seat. ‘Some of 'em are a bit naughty, see, they like to make mischief. But this one here, he's all right. He's a good boy.'

She felt a little puff of air behind her, like someone's breath. The hair on the back of her neck prickled.

‘Now,' she said, ‘this man, who stood you up. Was he tall, like I said?'

‘Yes.'

‘Is he called Peter – or Richard?'

‘No.'

‘George? Or Walter maybe?'

‘No, Steve.'

‘Steve?' Zelda was surprised. ‘I'm not being funny darlin',' she said, ‘but I don't think he's the one you're waitin' for.'

‘Oh.' She could hear the disappointment in Evie's voice. She started to cry again.

This wasn't going well. Zelda would have to do something. She couldn't afford to lose Evie. She bent forward and lit another cigarette. ‘Wait a tick,' she said, taking a puff, listening to the babble in her head, trying to separate one voice from another. ‘I think I got it wrong.' She could sense a new energy surging along the pathway between them. ‘Steve, this man of yours, he's been havin' a lot of problems recently. A lot of things to sort out?'

‘Yes, he's divorced,' Evie said. Her voice was very small. ‘And his wife won't let him see his baby son Jacob.'

Zelda sighed. ‘That's it. He's got family trouble, that's what it is. Don't worry, darlin'. It'll all come right.'

‘Thank God,' Evie sighed. She'd stopped crying. ‘I knew he was The One. That's why I couldn't understand it, you see. It was just such a weird thing to do.' She paused. ‘I don't know how I'd cope without you.'

Zelda glanced outside. It was very dark. She'd forgotten to close the curtains. She shivered. She could do with turning on another ring on the fire but it was too much trouble to get up again.

‘What about this other thing? This bad thing?' Evie said. She sounded nervous.

Silly girl. What was she doing bringing that up now? Some people were gluttons for punishment.

‘Can you tell me anything more about it?' she persisted.

Zelda put her half-finished cigarette in the ashtray. The smoke wafted up, making her eyes sting. She closed them again. ‘Are you sure you want me to do this, darlin'?' she said. ‘Maybe we should wait for another time?'

‘No,' Evie replied. ‘I need to know if I can . . .'

A siren wailed in the distance. Zelda thought she could sense a shadow pass by her window. Cold spread from her feet up her body, right the way to the top of her head. The room was full up now. It was crammed. She could hardly breathe.

‘It's someone close to you,' she gasped. Where was her inhaler? Little flutters, like fairy wings, ran up and down her arms.

‘Is it one of the children?' she heard Evie ask. ‘I must know.'

‘I don't know, I don't think so,' Zelda said. The flutters had turned into pinpricks. They hurt. She was batting them off with her free hand, but they buzzed right back, like bluebottles. Why wouldn't Evie just go away, leave her alone?

‘I have to go,' Zelda said, pushing herself up from her chair. Her cigarette had burned right down. There was just a smouldering stub left. They asked so much of her, the lot of them. Too much. Didn't they realise she was getting on? It was unreasonable.

‘Be careful,' she muttered, ‘that's all I can say.' She'd fetch her inhaler from the bedroom. Then she'd make a nice cup of tea.

‘But what am I supposed to be careful of?' Evie wailed.

Zelda shook her head. You had to be firm with them sometimes. ‘I'm sorry darlin',' she said, ‘you've had your time for tonight. You can't expect no more from me now.'

Evie snapped her eyes open. There it was, that rattling noise that she'd heard in her dreams. It seemed to be coming from outside. There was an empty house opposite. Intruders? She felt for her phone on the bedside table.

Another rattle. It sounded quite close. She sat up, pulling the duvet round her. She didn't want to but she knew that she'd have to look. She opened the curtain behind her just a chink and peered out.

There was a clatter which made her jump. She glanced down and a spray of what looked like pebbles landed on the brickwork some way below her window and scattered on the ground. She switched on the light and made a wider gap in the curtain. A tall, shadowy figure stepped away from the house and walked down the path towards the gate.

She narrowed her eyes and pressed her nose against the window pane. The figure turned and waved. There was just enough light from the streetlamps outside for her to be able to make out his face. She pulled open the sash window and leaned out.

‘What the hell do you think you're doing?'

Christ. She hoped the children wouldn't wake.

Steve moved closer, so that he was standing underneath, looking up. ‘I'm sorry about earlier. Will you open the door?'

She paused. He'd hurt her so much. She could still feel it, like a knife in her side. Zelda's words rang in her ears: ‘It'll all come right.' She breathed in deeply and smiled. Actually, it was quite romantic, looking down at him like this. She felt like Juliet on her balcony. She stifled a giggle. He'd better have a bloody good explanation, though.

‘I waited in the cold for nearly an hour,' she hissed.

‘I can explain.'

He looked cute, gazing up at her like that in the gloom. Sort of imploring.

‘Nice view,' he said. ‘But you could get done for indecent exposure. Just let me in, will you?'

What the hell was he talking about? The penny dropped. She was stark naked, flashing her boobs at the whole street. Something made her glance left, towards Bill's house. She knew he slept in the front room like her. Appalled, she bobbed back away from the window.

Bloody hell. No wonder Steve had that half-grin on his face the whole time. She'd thought it was nerves. She stuck her head out between the curtains, making sure the rest of her was hidden behind the fabric.

‘Wait there,' she said.

Was she doing the right thing? Of course she was. He was her destiny. The spirits had told Zelda. She grabbed her dressing gown and ran, two steps at a time, downstairs to meet him.

Chapter Twenty-Six