Stockholm Syndrome 2- 17 Black and 29 Red (13 page)

Ellie comes to sit next to him and strokes some hair away from his face so she can press a kiss to his temple. He leans against her, half-thinking he should make at least
some
attempt to hide his ex's favourite cuddly toy from the woman he's been living and sleeping with for the last few years, but she's seen it, there's no point, and he doesn't want to keep things from her anyway.

"Did you want something?" he says quietly. She just shakes her head.

 

"Nothing important."

 

"I need to... I don't even know. Get rid of it. I don't know how."

 

"You could give it back to him."

 

"I don't want to."

 

"Don't be cruel, you can't just throw it in the bin."

 

"I don't want to see him."

 

"Yes you do."

"Of course I do, that's the point, I
can't
. He's like... the worst of everything. He's like crack and poison. Killer speedball in a skin suit. I can't do that again."

"Is it as bad as pretending you're happy, though?"

"Love, I'm
not
pretending." How convincing does
that
sound? He can feel himself pulling a disgusted face and tries to smooth it out before she sees in case she thinks it's directed at her and not himself. "I'll just throw it out. Sorted."

"Come on. If you were going to do that you'd have done it years ago."

She's being so fucking
calm
, he can't bear it. He stands up abruptly and throws the monkey into the bottom of the wardrobe, slamming the door on it with a loud crack like a gunshot, and that's where it ends - until Ellie buys him a one-way ticket to London the next day and tells him to get out, and
that's
where it ends.

10.
August 2014

 

You shouldn't put your phone number on Facebook, idiot. Can we meet? Lindsay

 

r u in ldn??

 

Yes.

 

were??

 

Where's best for you?

 

were r u rite now? British Library. Euston Rd.

 

starbux half hr?

 

Fine.

 

***

Lindsay sees him through the window first. He's wearing a newsboy cap, and a Tom Baker scarf looped around and around and trailing down past the hem of his jacket right to his knees. It's all new, the gunmetal leather jacket, the hat and scarf and everything, his boots and jeans, the bag he's carrying... the
baby
he's carrying, girlishly on his hip. Lindsay's never seen any of it before but Valentine looks exactly the same. He suddenly feels ill, and wonders if he can escape without being seen. It was a stupid idea. Stupid stupid
stupid
.

But then Valentine pushes the door open and spots Lindsay before he can even put his mug down, never mind run away.

 

He's smiling, sort of. Very faintly, very crookedly, but it's there. He's breathless.

"Alright?" he says quietly, and Lindsay wants to say
yes
and
no
at the same time but there's no word for that. He looks away instead, then back again, then down. He can feel that same almost-smile tugging the corner of his mouth.

"I owe you a drink, don't I?"

"Yeah, I think you fucking well do." Valentine kicks at the spare armchair to get it out from under the table and sits down, settling the little girl on his lap so he can unwind his scarf and take his hat off.
"Hazelnut vanilla cinnamon caramel mocha?"

"You remembered."

 

"Who's this?"

She's got dark blonde hair held out of her face by a neon yellow plastic alice band, she's got tiny black painted fingernails, she's wearing red jeans and a Ramones t-shirt and little Doc Martens, and she's sucking her thumb and cuddling a knitted bunny and staring at Lindsay with startling green eyes. He feels a bit mad, then a bit sick, then a bit mad again, brain whirring trying to work out dates. He's never been much good at guessing people's ages, especially children. Is she about three? More than that? Less than that? Valentine shifts his grip on her so he can brush a stray bit of hair out of her face with his free hand and tuck it back under her band, and the way he's
looking
at her...

"This is Dory. You wanna say hi to my old friend, honey?" She suddenly gets shy and hides her face in her bunny, and Valentine laughs quietly and kisses her hair. "Yeah, it's alright, he
is
a bit scary, I know..."

"Dory like... the fish, in that film?"

 

"Finding Nemo? No, Dory like Dorian, like my nan."

 

"Right. Jesus." He can't make himself stand up to get more drinks now, he can't stop staring. Valentine looks back, raised eyebrows, waiting.

 

"What?"

 

"Nothing. I'm just..." Stunned. Horrified. "Nothing. I'll get drinks. What's Dory having, double espresso?"

 

"Milk, smartarse."

He can still hear Valentine's voice when he's over by the counter waiting in the queue, talking nonsense to Dory. She seems chatty enough when it's just the two of them. Typical response from kids. They never like him at first. Not that he cares. She shuts up again when Lindsay goes back over with their cups, just looking at him anxiously and standing up on Valentine's legs so she can put her podgy little arms around his neck.

"Ow, OW, god, don't stand there, babe, my nuts ain't a trampoline... you gonna say thank you Lindsay for your drink while I go to the toilet?" She looks scared and clings on. Valentine laughs a bit, standing up and putting her back in his empty seat. "Come on, honey, you don't wanna come in the stinky boys' toilets, it's gross in there. He won't bite you. You're okay watching her for a sec?" he adds, looking at Lindsay. You can't really say no to that without sounding like a wanker, so he nods.

Dory stares at him over her bunny's head, as if she doesn't even trust him as far as she could throw him. Lindsay wonders what Valentine's said to her about him. Probably nothing. He's just being paranoid. What
could
you say about it to a child her age, anyway?

He clears his throat and drinks some coffee, even though it's still too hot to be comfortable and burns his tongue. "You like the Ramones?" he asks, because he's got no idea what else to say. Nothing for a while, she just stares at him, then she nods her head shyly.

He wants to laugh then. Bonding with your ex's surprise baby in a packed coffee shop over a band you liked three decades before she was even born. That's just weird.

"Do you think I should believe you?" She nods again, looking indignant, and he does laugh this time, he can't help it. "What's your favourite song?" She still won't say anything, she just goes really shy again. She curls her knees up under her chin and presses her bunny against her face and she looks so much like a miniature version of Valentine it's unreal. "What's your rabbit's name? Does he like the Ramones too?"

"No, cos he's a
rabbit
," she says, dripping with scorn, and Lindsay laughs so much that people look over to try and see the joke. He's still at it when Valentine comes back from the toilet. "What's funny?" he says, picking Dory up again to sit her on his knee.

 

"I just got told off."

"Yeah, she's a bossy little madam, ain't she?" She hits him with her rabbit and scowls, but she's pacified by a cuddle and settles down against his chest, sucking her thumb again. "She's tired, she wouldn't go to sleep, her and Joe are proper little shits when they're together."

"Who's Joe?"

 

"Olly's?"

 

"Oh, right, yeah. You're still living with Olly, then?"

 

There's a tiny pause, then Valentine says, with pointed emphasis, "Living
with
Olly, yeah."

 

"...Oh. Well. Congratulations?"

"Come off it, we ain't married or nothing." He's obviously trying to make light of it but now things feel stiflingly awkward again, as if they've only just remembered exactly why they haven't spoken for over four years. They drink in silence and look around the room at people, Lindsay fiddles with his phone, Valentine plaits a tiny piece of Dory's hair then untangles it again. "So how come you're in London?" he says eventually.

"For work."

 

"Work or

 

"Work."

 

"What you working for, ain't you still loaded?"

 

"I was bored."

 

"What you doing, houses again like before?"

"No." He knew it was going to happen but it still gives him a bit of a strange feeling in his stomach. He hates thinking about 'before', any of it. "One of my old lecturers died a few months back. I was good friends with him, he sorted me out a bit when my dad was dying, we stayed friends after I graduated. So when I sent a condolences letter to his wife she asked if I wanted to help her go through his things, all these books and papers he collected and never bothered cataloguing. She doesn't know where to start. I wasn't going to do it, but it's time for a change, so... yeah. I'm sorting out rooms and rooms of musty old rare books."

"Sounds riveting."

"It is, thanks." He can't shake off the sick feeling he gets every time Valentine strokes Dory's hair. It'd be so much easier not to look, but he can't make himself do that either. "So what have
you
been up to?"

"Oh, this and that."

 

"Bit vague."

"Yeah, but I done a
lot
. Like I was gonna go back to college and change my course and do knitwear instead cos Jones says his mate done it. Imagine getting a
knitting degree
, how cool's that? But I went to talk to someone about it and showed them my stuff and they're like 'Yeah, that's nice and everything, but we use machines'. So no thanks, I don't wanna get into mass-marketed shitty machine-knit fugly jumpers, where can you go from that? Work in a fucking
factory
? Don't think so. So I mooched round for a bit in a sulk and I got a job with my mate Rob learning tattoos, then I went back to college anyway to finish my fashion degree, else that's just a wasted first year and what's the point of that? But I'm still doing the tats now I'm all finished cos it's good pay, I mean the course was well expensive and I had to buy all the materials and stuff and then our house and car's all paid for so we ain't got a mortgage or nothing but there's all the other bills and three kids living there full-time and Sam and Dory are always round too and I don't just wanna sponge off my mum and dad. So yeah. Just been doing stuff. Working like a
dog
. It's good, though. I like being busy. I can't stand doing
nothing
, I'd rather be dead than bored."

"I remember." He remembers, too, how Valentine always used to ramble on when he was nervous, just to fill the awkward silence. He feels a bit better knowing he's not the only one who's absolutely incurably freaked out by this... whatever this is. Reunion

Silence. Silence between the two of them, anyway. The shop is busy, full of people chatting, hissing machinery, some dire imitation of jazz playing through the speakers, but Lindsay says nothing and Valentine says nothing and Dory drinks her milk and watches them both with a weird look on her face as if she's only just realising what idiots adults can be. She stands up on Valentine's legs again so she can brush his hair out the way and whisper something into his ear behind her plump little hand.

"Somebody... what?" He starts at Lindsay, all confusion and disbelief. "Someone put something in her drink?"

 

"What? Nobody touched her drink, I was here the whole time."

 

"
No
," Dory says insistently. She cups her hands around Valentine's ear again to whisper.

 

"She says tell you someone put something in her drink? What's going on?"

 

It doesn't just click, it clangs like a bell. "The Ramones. I asked what her favourite song was."

"Oh!" Valentine starts laughing - just like that, everything's suddenly easier. Lindsay can look at him without wanting to throw up. Nothing's changed from two seconds ago, not really, but it's get over it or have nothing to do with him at all for the rest of their lives and when Valentine's laughing like this, free and bright and loud without any apparent self-consciousness about all the nosy bored people in the queue who are still staring, never getting to see him again is the bleakest idea Lindsay's ever known.

"She's got good taste. You've trained her well."

 

"Ain't I just? She's got a Cavalier puppy called Diamond Dog and I never even had to tell her what to name him, she done it all herself."

"She's just like you." He can't get over it. He never got to see any of Valentine's baby pictures but surely there's
nothing
between them. Maybe he wouldn't have been dressed so well, he probably had shorter hair... so maybe she's not like him, she's like a little dolly of what he
wants
to have been. That's probably not entirely healthy, but she looks happy enough.

Valentine seems pleased at that, almost a bit shy when he smiles. "Aw, no. She's loads prettier than me. Ain't that right, babe?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Don't chew Rab's ear, that ain't fair on him, you wouldn't like
your
ear getting chewed."

"Hypocrite," Lindsay says quietly, before he can stop himself. Valentine doesn't look up for a moment; when he does he's not smiling any more, there's something darker and almost pained there in his face instead.

"Sorry I ain't perfect."

"I brought you..." Lindsay trails off and just goes in his bag to bring out Valentine's little knitted toy monkey, laying it on the table like a peace offering. "I wanted to give it back, I thought... I don't know, you probably miss it or... something. It's yours. I didn't know if this was going to be... shit. Weird or... whatever. Awkward. Even if we never meet up again I wanted to give it back, but... I mean, I don't know, it's up to you, but... you know, if you want. I'm in London for a bit doing this work, if you want to... this, anything, coffee, pub, whatever. God, I hate saying this, you'll get so bloody smug - it's too quiet. Everything's too quiet and sensible without you there mucking it all up and getting in my way. I should've phoned or something years ago, I never meant to leave it so long, just... life. Gets in the way. I know we're... I know it's been..." God, now who's rambling like an idiot to fill up the silence? "Friends," he settles on, sounding like a half-strangled moron. "If you want."