The Make (32 page)
Authors: Jessie Keane
Sandy went into intensive care after Christmas to see George. She hoped that he would understand, that what she had done had been done in a moment of anger; it hadn’t been intentional. It certainly hadn’t been premeditated. She was fully intending to explain all that, to lay it all out and hope that he would forgive her for it, so that they could take up where they’d left off, get married. Noel was the past.
George
was the future.
George was sitting up now, starting to get some colour back in his cheeks. He’d lost weight. He still couldn’t speak because of the tracheotomy, but he had a notepad and pencil near at hand.
Sandy came in, and kissed him on the cheek, and clasped his hands tight in hers.
‘I’m so pleased you’ve come round, George. So pleased. And so
relieved
. I know I hurt you, but I didn’t mean to do it.’ Sandy was sitting there staring at him earnestly. ‘I just . . . you hurt me so much when you sent me that text, George. I couldn’t believe you said that, that we were finished . . .’
George grabbed the notepad and wrote: ‘What do you mean, finished? We never even started.’
Sandy looked at it. A twinge of irritation made her face pinch up.
‘Look, George. It was just a mistake. We were getting on so well, weren’t we?’
George scribbled: ‘No we weren’t.’
Sandy looked at the words, bit her lip as if trying to hold in anger.
‘George, now you know we were. I just got so
mad
when you said that. If you were joking, it wasn’t very kind of you.’
George wrote: ‘I wasn’t joking.’
Sandy snatched the pad and pencil out of his hands and threw both to the floor.
‘Now George you’re being very naughty,’ she told him with a trembling voice. She stared hopefully at his face. ‘We can start again, George. I’ll leave Noel. I hate him anyway. We’ll go somewhere together. It’ll all be fine.’
The nurse came forward and touched Sandy on the shoulder.
‘Um, Miss Sandy Cole?’ she asked. ‘Yes. Why?’
‘These people want a word with you,’ said the nurse. She bent and picked up the pad and handed it to one of the men who stood there.
Sandy looked back, beyond the nurse. Two security guards were standing right there, watching her.
‘If you could come with us . . .’ said the one who held the notepad.
‘A word about what?’ Sandy was asking as they led her away.
The nurse exchanged a long look with George.
‘A restraining order would be a good idea,’ said the nurse.
George nodded. A padded cell would be better for
that
mad bitch.
Fuck
the escorting. He was through with all that shit, as of now.
They met for afternoon tea at the New Covent Garden Hotel in the dog days between Christmas and New Year. Emma and Jackie were waiting for him, and they both rose nervously to their feet when he arrived.
‘Oh my God,’ said Em, tears starting in her eyes.
‘Darling Harry, are you all right?’ asked Jackie.
What had he done to deserve these two? Harry hugged them both. Three of his fingers were heavily bandaged but no longer painful. Doing anything, even buttoning his fly, was awkward; but he’d live. His hair had been a problem. The first time he saw his reflection in a mirror, he’d laughed out loud. Deano Drax would never make a barber. In some places, he was nearly bald; in others he had six or twelve or two inches of auburn hair remaining.
Not
a good look. One of his first jobs once he’d been out of the hospital’s clutches had been to get his arse over to a good hairdresser, tout suite.
‘Oh my
God,
what
happened
?’ asked the male stylist.
A nutter happened, that’s what.
‘Student prank,’ said Harry.
‘Well my dear you should
sue
,’ said the stylist, and proceeded to trim off anything that remained of Harry’s previously long and lustrous locks.
‘Fuck me,’ he’d said when he looked in the mirror at the finished job.
He looked very unlike himself. With a uniform inch of hair over most of his scalp, and the worst of the bald bits concealed, added to his weight loss courtesy of the Deano Drax starvation diet, he looked harder, meaner.
‘You look so different,’ Em told him now. ‘That
hair.
You are going to grow it back, aren’t you?’
‘If you like,’ said Harry. He rather liked the lean-fighting-machine look, but he could see that Em wasn’t impressed. She preferred the louche cavalier Harry, and what Em wanted, she got, as far as he was concerned.
‘We were so worried about you,’ said Jackie, when they all sat down and tea and cakes were ordered.
So was I.
‘Hey, I’m fine. It’s over.’
‘That man . . .’ said Emma.
‘Deano Drax.’
‘Why did he do this to you, Harry? What did you
do
?’
‘I didn’t do a thing. It was George.’
‘Your brother?’
Harry nodded. ‘George rescued Alfie from Deano Drax. After that, Deano was after all the Doyles with a vengeance.’
Jackie’s face was clouded with concern. ‘But . . . he’s locked up now, isn’t he? He won’t do anything like this again . . .?’
‘My brother-in-law talked to the police yesterday. Drax is still in hospital, in a coma. They think he’ll come out of it. And after that, it’ll be prison for a long stretch.’
‘But what if they eventually let him out?’ asked Emma, with a shiver.
‘They won’t,’ said Harry, trying to convince himself as much as her. He was afraid they would.
‘We were so scared,’ she said, her blue eyes locked with his. ‘We thought we’d lost you.’
‘Me? Nah.’ Harry grinned reassuringly, although he didn’t feel like it.
Harry knew they were right to be concerned for the future. No one could predict what would happen with Drax. And now he was feeling better, he had to face the fact that he was going to lose Em very soon. She was due to go back to Hong Kong next week, after New Year. She would go on with her life, a high-flying, exciting life of opportunity, and he . . . well, what the fuck was
he
going to do? He’d already decided that escorting wasn’t for him, although taking part in it had been a revelation to him. He’d met Jackie, and Em, after all. So there was no way he could say it had been all bad. But . . . what now?
Their tea and cakes arrived. Harry fell upon the cakes like a starving man which, up until a few days ago, was precisely what he had been. His two girls watched him indulgently. He felt so at home with them, so happy. But it would all end soon.
And then . . . what?
He just didn’t know.
Gracie, Suze and Lorcan called in to see George just before New Year. He was out on a normal ward now, and he could speak. His head was still a bandaged mess, but that would heal. He was returning, oh so slowly, to normal.
When they arrived, Alfie was there. They stood at the door to the ward. There were six beds in there, all occupied; George’s was at the far end on the left, beside a big window. Weak winter sunlight was filtering through the grime and alighting on Alfie’s blond hair, lending him a halo of gold.
Alfie and George were holding hands and looking into each other’s eyes. As they stood there at the door, George said something and Alfie laughed, then raised George’s hand to his lips and kissed it.
‘Oh,’ said Suze, startled.
Gracie looked at Lorcan, then back over to her brother and the boy sitting with him. She refocused. Realized that what she was looking at was a pair of lovers, totally absorbed in each other. Everything clicked into place. Alfie’s outrage at Sandy’s claims that she and George were engaged. George’s behaviour in his early years, the way he had always seemed to keep girls at a distance. Suddenly, a lot of things made sense.
‘Jesus,’ said Suze, and Gracie could see that she was really shocked.
‘Why don’t you take a moment outside?’ Gracie suggested.
Suze looked at her daughter. ‘Did you
know
about this?’ she hissed.
‘No. I didn’t. But this is still George, we still love him.’
‘I don’t know . . .’ Suze shook her head.
‘Come on. Just take a minute, okay? Lorcan, stay with Mum outside, will you? Just for a while. I’ll go see George.’
Lorcan and Suze went back outside and Gracie went over to the bed. She noticed that Alfie slid his hand away from George’s as she approached, but George snatched it back again.
‘Hiya George,’ she said.
‘Gracie,’ said George hoarsely. ‘After all this time. What brought you back down here?’
‘
You
did,’ said Gracie with a smile. ‘And a fire at my casino, and a bag of Harry’s hair. Hi, Alfie.’
‘Hi Gracie.’ Alfie beamed at her.
‘Did you actually know I was standing there talking to you, back in Drax’s sitting room?’
‘I thought you were an angel. But what you were saying sort of got through, so I followed you out.’
‘Alfie’s been telling me what happened out at that bastard Drax’s place,’ said George.
‘It was pretty scary,’ said Gracie.
‘But Drax is out of it, right?’
‘Yeah, he is.’ She hoped Drax was going to be put away for a long, long time, but there was a niggling doubt at the back of her mind, a feeling that this might not be over. She turned her thoughts away from that, back to George – and Alfie.
‘Has this been going on long?’ she asked.
‘This? This what?’ asked George.
Gracie nodded to Alfie, then to George. ‘Come
on
, George. What do you think I am, blind?’
‘Ah,’ said George.
‘We’re in love,’ said Alfie, sticking out his chin, daring her to make trouble.
Gracie smiled. ‘Alfie, I’m on your side.’ She glanced between them. ‘God, George, you might have given us a clue though. And I think Mum’s in shock; she’s outside but she just saw you and Alfie holding hands.’
‘Fuck,’ said George, his face falling with dismay.
‘She’ll come round,’ said Gracie. ‘Although I don’t think your fiancée Sandy’s going to be very pleased.’
‘She’s mental,’ said George.
‘That
bitch
,’ said Alfie vehemently.
Gracie looked a question at them both.
‘She was a client I escorted,’ said George. ‘But she started getting funny ideas. That we were dating, that we were engaged. Crazy ideas. Finally I snapped and texted her to fuck off, and she stalked me as far as Mum’s then hit me with a fucking house brick. The police are dealing with her now.’
‘We were starting to think that Drax must have done it,’ said Gracie. ‘Actually she maybe did you a favour. With you in intensive care, Drax couldn’t easily get to you. And he would have, that’s for sure. He got Harry, and he damned near got me. He even tried for Mum.’
George looked unhappily at Gracie. ‘Mum’s gonna hit the roof over this. Me and Alf.’
Gracie shook her head. ‘Shouldn’t think so. You’ve got her at a point of weakness. She’s just so damned glad to see you alive and well, she’ll get over the surprise.’
‘You don’t disapprove then?’ asked George, looking awkward.
‘What, of you being happy? Why should I?’
‘Well, that’s good news.’ George stared at his sister for long moments. ‘It’s really good to see you, Gracie. After all this time.’
‘You too, George. Thought we’d lost you.’
‘Me? Nah.’ George leaned over and grabbed his deck of cards from the side table. ‘Let me show you this new trick I’ve been teaching Alf. Come on, Gracie. Pick a card. Any card . . .’
She selected a card.
‘Seven of spades, right?’
Gracie showed George her card. It was the seven of spades.
‘I don’t know how he does that,’ said Alfie.
‘Tricks of the trade, m’boy, tricks of the trade,’ winked George. He looked at Gracie and his smile faded. ‘How’s Dad then, Gracie?’ he asked awkwardly.
Gracie stared at George for a long moment. It must have hurt him so much – and Harry – when their dad apparently just turned his back on them. But she knew that Paddy Doyle had phoned Suze time and again, asking to see them, but she wouldn’t allow it. He’d sent cards and presents for them, but Suze, so consumed with anger at Paddy, wanting to hurt him, had intercepted them.
Suze had ducked out of this, but Gracie wasn’t going to. She braced herself. She sat down and took George’s hand in hers. And then she told him about Dad.
They celebrated New Year’s Eve at Suze’s place. The front door, so badly scarred by Deano’s boys and their chainsaw, had been replaced with a new reinforced-steel one. In Suze’s living room, they all gathered together to bring the old year to a close and to celebrate the birth of the new – Gracie and Lorcan; a thinner, slightly frailer George with Alfie; Harry with Em. Suze looked around at them, her kids all together again, and felt a surge of maternal pride as she doled out the drinks for the midnight toast.
She was going to start the New Year without a partner. Fucking Claude, what a drip he’d turned out to be. But there were singles bars and there was online dating; there was lots out there for a single woman in her fifties these days. It was no big deal. She looked over to where Alfie was sitting with George. Now
that
had been one hell of a shock – but, well, George was okay and that was what counted. She didn’t much
like
the idea that her eldest son was a bender, but really, when you got right down to it, did it matter?
Suze looked over to where Harry and Emma were standing, gazing deep into each other’s eyes. Actually, even though she was a posh bird with a cut-glass accent, Suze quite liked Emma. But then, Emma was going back to Hong Kong tomorrow, so it was just ships passing in the night. A shame.
Suze looked over at Gracie. Their eyes met. Suze gave a little smile and a wink. Gracie raised her glass. She mouthed ‘Happy New Year, Mum.’
‘You too,’ Suze mouthed back. All right, they were worlds apart, but Suze was so glad Gracie had come back at last. And – she glanced at Lorcan, who was standing near Gracie – she knew she wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
Time to let the past go
, she thought.
Gracie came over. ‘You okay then?’ she asked her mum and, after a moment’s hesitation, she dropped a kiss on to Suze’s cheek.
Gracie thought it felt strange, doing that. But sort of nice, too.
‘Fine,’ said Suze, giving her daughter a quick hug. ‘I meant to tell you – Claude sent me a card.’
‘He what?’
‘Yeah, he did.’ Suze pulled a face. ‘He wants to try again.’
Gracie didn’t want to say straight out that Claude was an arsehole and Suze was a million times better off without him, even if it was true. The peace between them was still too fragile; she didn’t want to risk it.
‘And . . . what do you think about that?’ she asked carefully.
Suze looked at Gracie and suddenly they were both laughing.
‘Oh God,’ said Suze when she could get her breath. ‘Your face! No, Gracie, I’m not going
there
again. And look, I’m sorry I believed him over you. I really am.’
‘It’s okay,’ said Gracie.
‘I loved your father,’ said Suze. ‘I know we argued, but I loved him.’ She looked at Gracie. ‘You’re so like him. Wedded to the job, aren’t you, just like he was. He worked too hard, and I was stupid, shouting at him, and then stopping him having contact with the boys. I just wanted
more
of him and, when he wouldn’t give me that, I went off and found someone else. It didn’t mean a damned thing, Gracie; it was Paddy I wanted.’
Now there were tears in Suze’s eyes.
‘Hey, don’t,’ said Gracie, feeling tearful too at what Suze had said.
Suze sniffed and blinked. Fixed a smile on her face again.
‘No you’re right,’ she said. ‘It’s New Year. Fresh start.’
Suze looked at the clock. ‘Hey, everyone! Two minutes to go!’ she shouted, and they turned the radio up to listen to the chimes of Big Ben.
‘Harry,’ Em was saying, her face grave as all around them the excitement grew. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’
‘Oh?’ Harry looked worried. He knew what she was going to say. She was going to say, so long, it’s been fun, but I’m going back to my real life tomorrow, so this is goodbye. He was feeling a bit down tonight. He was still shocked – reeling, in fact – from what Gracie had told him about Dad being dead and gone for over a year. Now there would never be a chance of reconciliation between him and George and their father: that ship had sailed. And now, Em was going too.
‘Just that I’ve been thinking really hard about everything.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes. Harry, I—’
‘You don’t have to say it,’ butted in Harry. ‘I understand perfectly, Em. You’ve got your life, I’ve got mine . . .’
Em’s face froze. ‘Is that how you feel?’
Jesus, the new year’s going to be horrible without Em
, thought Harry.
‘No, I don’t,’ he said. He had nothing to lose by speaking his mind now anyway. ‘I’d like you to stay here with me, but that’s stupid.’
‘Is it?’
‘Of course it is. You want to go back to Hong Kong . . .’
‘No I bloody don’t,’ said Em. ‘At least, not without you.’
Harry’s mouth fell open. ‘You mean you want me to go out there with you?’
‘Why not?’ Now Em’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. ‘You’ll love it out there, Harry. Why don’t you come?’
He could. He really could. He had dosh from the escort work. Harry thought about it for all of five seconds. Then he nodded.
Emma gave a shriek of excited laughter and threw her arms around his neck. ‘I love you, Harry Doyle,’ she said, and kissed him. What the hell, he thought. Take a chance. Roll the dice. He kissed her back. Somehow, he was going to make this work.
Gracie was standing next to Lorcan. She gave him a stern look.
‘Don’t kiss me at midnight,’ she said firmly. ‘You know I can’t think straight when you do that.’
The countdown began
‘Five!’ everyone yelled.
‘Four!’
‘Three!’
‘Two!’
‘One!’
‘Happy New Year!’
Lorcan kissed Gracie hard and long.
‘This don’t change anything,’ said Gracie when she finally came up for air. She felt like the room was spinning around her. Party poppers were being let off and multicoloured streamers were festooning them. She clutched at Lorcan, steadied herself.
‘I know that,’ he said. ‘We never did get around to the talking, did we? You going to sign those divorce papers?’
‘Guess so,’ said Gracie.
Lorcan gave a slow, sad smile. ‘Then this is it, Gracie. This is goodbye.’
‘Yeah,’ said Gracie, and then everyone launched into ‘Auld Lang Syne’ and she had to fight against the urge –
so
un-Gracie-like – to break down and cry.
A couple of days after New Year, Gracie kissed Suze and her brothers goodbye with firm promises to speak very soon and
never
to lose touch again. She drove back to Manchester, parked her car in the secure underground park and went up to her flat. Once, she’d loved it so much, but now it felt cold and alien to her; not like home at all. She put her bag down in the little kitchen area and stood there, thinking.
She took out the divorce papers and looked at them. She’d had them with her all the time she was in London; she could have signed them, could have
handed
them to Lorcan or posted them straight back to the courts, easy. Yet she hadn’t.
‘Fuck it, what am I
doing
?’ she asked herself.
Following her heart? Or her head?
She’d always been the calculating one, the clever one. The cold one? Was she really that too? Maybe she was. She sat down at the kitchen table and coldly, calculatingly, she thought it all through.
* * *
Lorcan was in the casino. It was heaving with high-rolling clients – Saudi princes, footballers, Russian oligarchs. He moved among them smoothly, greeting, smiling, exchanging cheery words with the staff and the punters, while inside his chest his heart felt like a lump of lead.
She was gone.
It was over.
He’d gambled, and lost.
Fuck it, he’d thought he was getting somewhere with her. Five years of missing her, and finally he’d had enough. The thing with George had happened and he’d thought: now is the time. He’d decided to force her hand. Not knowing which way she’d jump. And of course, being Gracie, she’d jumped the wrong way. Called his bluff. Now, the courts would finish up what was left of their marriage and it would all be done and dusted.
God, what a waste.
Then he saw her. She was weaving through the punters down the casino boulevard, a stunningly striking six-feet-tall woman with a thick dark-red hank of hair twisted into a plait that hung down over her shoulder. She was wearing her plain black wrap dress, and her cool grey eyes were searching for him . . . and finding him.
He held his breath as she came closer.
She wasn’t smiling.
She came right up to him and now he could see that she was holding some papers in her hand.
The divorce papers.
Oh shit.
‘I had these with me all the time I was down here,’ she said, her eyes locked with his.
Lorcan swallowed hard. ‘Then why didn’t you sign them and give them to me, or post them back to the courts?’ he asked.
‘Oh now, let’s think about that . . .’ And Gracie carefully, deliberately, ripped the papers up into tiny pieces. They fluttered to the casino floor.
Lorcan stared into Gracie’s eyes. ‘Meaning . . .?’ he asked.
‘What do you
think
?’ asked Gracie in exasperation.
She stepped forward, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. ‘We’ll try, okay? We’ll compromise. We’ll talk. Yes?’
People around them were staring and smiling.
Then Gracie drew back a little. ‘I decided to take a chance,’ she said with a smile. ‘Roll the dice.’
‘Oh, Gracie,’ said Lorcan with a grin, ‘thank fuck for that,’ and kissed her back.
