The Betrayal (32 page)

‘What’s this,’ you said when you saw me.
You pretended to be surprised.
‘I thought it was a teenage rule never to rise before noon when you’re on holidays.’

I told you I always walk early and you said, ‘Then walk on, Nadine.
It’s a beautiful morning.
Make the most of it.’

I went far along the strand but I could still see you sitting there when I looked back.
Were you watching me too?
I didn’t understand why that should matter, not then.
I sat on the sand.
The kittiwakes were going crazy like dive bombers.
I did lots of sketches.
The haze was gone from the sea and the tide was way out.
I pulled off my sandals on the way back and the wet sand squished between my toes.
I walked really slow to give you a chance to go back to the cottage if you didn’t want to talk to me.

‘You must be famished,’ you said when I reached you.
‘How does scrambled eggs and mushrooms sound?’

‘Delicious,’ I said.
It was true.
I was absolutely starving.

‘Then let’s go.’
You jumped down from the rocks and climbed ahead of me up the cliff path.

You were frying mushrooms in butter and I was scrambling the eggs when I fell in love with you.
Just like that.
God!
I never knew that’s how it happened.
Then Karin came into the kitchen and spoiled everything.
She’s so small yet it’s like she fills the place when she’s in a mood.
It’s always… always about her.
Being her friend is exhausting!!
I knew I was in trouble when she looked at the table.
You’d only set it for 2.
When she saw the sand we’d tracked across the floor her eyes went really narrow.
You didn’t notice.

‘Set another place, Nadine,’ you said.
‘Scrambled eggs for 3 coming up.’

I was going to tell her how I’d only gone to the beach to sketch the birds but you said, ‘We saw the dawn together.
You could have been with us if you weren’t such a lazybones in the mornings.’

You were only teasing her but you’ve no idea what she’s like when she gets into a sulk.

‘Look at the mess you made
.
’ She grabbed the brush and started sweeping the sand and stirring all the dust.

You tossed the mushrooms onto a plate and put it on the table.
The toast popped and the eggs were ready.
But she said she wasn’t hungry.
Her bottom lip went out the way it does when she’s mad.
You took the sweeping brush from her and stopped her going back to her bedroom.
It was like she was a bird when you lifted her up in the air and carried her over to the table.

‘I want to have breakfast with my special girl,’ you said.
‘So sit down and keep your old man company.
I want to know about everything you’ve been doing since I went away.’

She was really nice at breakfast but she came into my bedroom afterwards and accused me of monopolising you last night and this morning.
You’d think I’d planned to meet you deliberately when you were so late coming here.

Were you watching me on the beach?
Or were you thinking of Joan and how drunk she was last night.
Living with her must be really hard.

I think I’m going crazy, Max.

Is this what love is like?

Nadine XXXXXX

E
leanor was moved
from the high dependency unit into a private ward.
She cried easily and fell asleep in the middle of conversations.
All perfectly normal, her specialist assured Jake.
Her recovery process was gradual but consistent.
Cora was the only member of First Affiliation allowed to visit her.
She would move in with Eleanor when she was discharged and look after her.
Eleanor’s acceptance that she needed care amazed Jake.
He waited for the return of her old assertiveness but she remained serene, even when she heard that Lorna Mason had been elected leader of First Affiliation.

Her tears fell when she saw Ali, who had flown home on an overnight trip.
Three weeks had passed since her stroke and she was struggling determinedly through the painful rehabilitation sessions.
Ali pulled tissues from the box on the bedside locker and gently dabbed her eyes.

‘It’s my first chance to come and see you, Gran,’ she said.
‘But Mum’s been keeping me up to date on everything.’

‘Is she in a…a….
tin
?’
Her inability to remember words would improve, Jake had been told.

‘A tin?’
Ali glanced enquiringly at Jake.

‘The shipping container,’ he said.

He was unable to banish an image of corrugated steel walls and condensation but Ali assured him Nadine’s new home was extremely comfortable.

‘It’s actually quite a cosy tin,’ said Ali and grinned when Eleanor snorted.
‘I’ll bring you to see it when you’re better.
You’ll have to come to my play, as well.
I’ll organise the best seat in the theatre for you
and Cora.’

Such an event would probably precipitate another stroke, Jake thought, but wisely stayed silent.
He would never come to terms with
The Arboretum Affair
.
To his amazement the play was still running and had received favourable reviews.
Critics could write what they liked about the protest language of movement but it was not their daughter on stage protesting in a body stocking.

‘I’m meeting Peter Brennan for a meal,’ Ali said when they left the hospital.
‘Why not join us?
You look like you could do with some cheering up.’

‘I’ll only be in the way.’

‘Oh, for goodness sake, Dad, it’s just Peter.
It’s not a date.
He won’t mind.’

‘You married him once.’

‘I was five at the time.’
She grinned.
‘Grounds for an annulment, don’t you think.’

Their wedding had been held in Brennan’s garden shed with Brian, wrapped in a bath towel, solemnly performing the ceremony.
Afterwards, Ali admitted she had only accepted Peter’s proposal so that she could wear her princess dress.
Jake wished they were still in love.
Boy next door and happy ever after.
Jake sighed.
He and Nadine had had conversations about Mark Brewer.
Initially, Jake thought the idea too preposterous to even consider.
But Nadine assured him it was a serious relationship that was bound to break Ali’s heart.

A slight shadow of disappointment crossed Peter’s face when he saw Jake.
Ali was oblivious of it.
She ordered chicken masala and ate about three spoonfuls.
She drank only iced water.
She was probably developing an eating disorder as well as exposing her heart to a man who was going to destroy it, Jake reflected gloomily.

‘Sylph-responsibility,’ she said.
‘It never stops.’

Peter said she must forget all about sylph-responsibility or any other kind of responsibility when they met in London.
He was flying over for his friend’s birthday party in July and planned to spend a day with Ali.

‘Can you believe it?
He’s celebrating his
twenty-fifth
birthday?’
He splayed his hands in amazement and laughed when Jake suggested a Zimmer frame would an appropriate birthday present.

Age and its relentless passage… was he crazy trying to relive his youth through Shard?
Was it his love of music or, as Ali believed, a mid-life crisis that had him posturing on a roof?
He expressed this thought aloud but, to his surprise, both Ali and Peter disagreed.
Peter said
Collapsing the Stone
was one of the strongest musical statements to come out of the recession.

He felt his mood lift.
In a fortnight’s time he was heading to the UK with Shard on their first tour abroad.
The venues were small, mainly clubs and pubs but Mik Abel had promised more high profile venues the next time.

E
leanor was
home from hospital and in the care of Cora when Jake drove the band members onto the ferry at Larne.
Karin’s text arrived as he was about to go on stage in Glasgow.
The eagerness with which he once received them had been replaced by dread.
Not that there was anything threatening about her texts.
Nothing he could hand to the police and claim he was being harassed.
He looked out on a mass of indistinguishable faces and was unable to see her anywhere.
Another text wishing him luck came before the Carlisle gig.
Break a leg
, she texted before he want on stage in Newcastle.
They stopped when he changed his phone number in Leeds.

The days passed in a blur of motorways and fleeting glimpses of cities before driving on to their next destination.
London with their final gig.
Dee Street on the Kings Road was small – Reedy compared it to a dog kennel with strobes – but it had hidden crannies and long passages at the back of the building that soon filled with young people.
Jake heard Irish accents, the new diaspora had turned out in force to hear them.
Ali had rung with apologies.
Sylph-duty.
Jake knew better than to protest or, as she would claim, lay a guilt trip on her.

Nadine arrived about an hour after the gig started.
She looked slim and leggy in jeans and ankle boots, her hair more tousled than he remembered, its coppery sheen enhanced by the spotlights.
She stopped in front of the stage to acknowledge him then disappeared with a glass of wine into an alcove.
The heat in the club was intense.
He gulped water and wiped perspiration from his neck, relieved when it was time for a break.

A tray of drinks had been set up at the bar for the band.
Still water for Hart and for Feral, who, much to the band’s astonishment, had recently announced that she was pregnant.
There was also Guinness for Daryl, a shandy for Reedy and a pint of Budweiser for Jake.

‘Thanks for the drinks.’
He sat beside Nadine and took a long swig of beer.
‘I needed that.’

He had a sudden urge to lift the weight of hair from her shoulders and press his lips against her neck.
Was she still in touch with Daveth Carew?
Her life was a mystery to him and he realised, painfully, that he would never have a chance to unravel it.
Why now, he thought, when it was too late for old passions to flare and they had squandered what they once shared.

‘Don’t thank me,’ she said.
‘I didn’t order it.
How’s the tour going?’

‘Oh, you know… it’s a start.
The lads are happy enough.’

‘Shard sound amazing.
It’s a really tight sound.
I love the harmonies.’

‘Thanks.’

‘I read about Feral on Facebook.’

‘Ah, yes.’

‘Any idea how… who?’

‘No.
Nor have I any intention of asking.
All I know is she and Maggie are thrilled.’

‘I must congratulate her.’
She walked over to Feral, who was talking to Reedy at the bar, and hugged her.
Daryl rushed over to greet Nadine and show her the latest video of Jasmine tottering in her mother’s high heels.
The band break was short.
Soon they would be back on stage.
By the time Nadine returned to the table they only had time for a brief conversation.

‘Have you heard anything from her since you changed your number?’
she asked and twisted a tendril of hair around her index finger.

‘Nothing.’

Reedy entered the alcove.
‘Time to go back on stage, Jake.’

‘I’m heading off now.’
Nadine also stood.
‘I’ve an early start in the morning.’

‘I was hoping you’d stay until the end.’
He touched her arm.
‘We’ll be finished in another hour.
We could go somewhere afterwards, have a bite to eat.’

‘She’s the only thing on our minds.
I refuse to give her that space.’

‘Talking about her is the last thing I want to do.
Please, Nadine, stay.’

‘All right.’
She shrugged.
‘Go on.
I’ll be here when you finish.’

He was singing ‘Fly by Night’ when the green and purple lasers slashed into blue.
Could he have imagined that glimpse of Karin Moylan within the mass of distorted limbs and lurid faces raised towards the stage?
He forgot the words.
Daryl shot a sideways glance at him and sang the lead line until Jake recovered.
The energy had gone from the song.
He could see her clearly now.
Her glittery dress sparked off the lasers and gave it the appearance of armour.
She danced hard, hands high, her eyes as bold and compelling as he remembered.
He looked beyond her to Nadine.
She too had seen Karin.
Jolted by her anger the dancers parted before her then closed ranks as she headed towards the exit.
Karin Moylan had also disappeared.
Was she a chameleon, capable of blending into her surroundings, shadowy and insubstantial until she decided to step into the spotlight.

He rang Nadine as soon as he came off stage.
Her phone went immediately to message.

The barman had a second tray of drinks waiting on the counter.
‘For the band,’ he said.
‘Left for you with the compliments of a dedicated fan.’

‘Get rid of them.’
Jake longed to upend the tray, smash the glasses against the wall.
He ordered a shot, knocked it back and ordered another.
A new band came on stage, three teenagers, younger than the twins.
His phone bleeped.
A text arrived.

Brilliant performance, Jake.
Tell Shard they rocked tonight.
Always yours, Karin.