A Hallowed Place (23 page)

‘I’m only making myself some toast,’ said a girl, burrowing in Leo’s fridge for some bread.

Joshua sighed and went back to his room, closing the door, hoping Leo’s neighbours weren’t going to complain. They hadn’t said anything so far.

As soon as he came through the front door Leo heard the noise. It took a moment for him to realise that it was coming from his flat. He stood in the carpeted hallway, remembering the last time that this had happened. He tried
to stay calm, but could feel his pulse rising along with a low tide of anger. It was his own fault, trusting Joshua to look after the place while he went away for a day. He fingered his keys, trying to work out how he should play this. For a weak, lunatic moment he even thought of going away quietly and letting them get on with it. Just at that moment the door of one of the ground floor apartments opened and a woman stepped out. Mrs Gresham. Leo had encountered her only a few times; she was a severe old creature who drove an ancient Daimler and walked her Tibetan terrier every afternoon in the garden square. She looked surprised to see Leo standing there.

‘Mr Davies - I was just on my way up to speak to you. Really, the noise …’ She gestured with a thin hand in the direction of Leo’s apartment.

‘I know. I must apologise. I’ve been out, you see, and I had no idea. I have a young friend staying and I’m afraid he’s let things get a little out of hand.’

‘We have had the constant tramping of feet on the stair, the buzzer going, the door slamming … It’s really not what we expect, Mr Davies, in a building of this character,’ went on Mrs Gresham, warming to her theme.

‘Yes, yes, I quite understand,’ said Leo, turning in the direction of the stairs.

‘I have to say,’ Mrs Gresham called after him, ‘that it’s not the first time we have been disturbed in this way. And in the daytime as well. I have spoken to the other residents about it, you know.’

‘Yes. I’m sorry. I’ll go and do something about it immediately. I promise it won’t happen again.’

Leo escaped upstairs, took a deep breath and went straight into the flat. It seemed to be full of people. They were sprawled in the hallway, lounging in doorways, and spilling in and out of the kitchen. Stepping over legs, he glanced into the drawing room, which was in semi-darkness. The noise that came from it rivalled that of a small night club. How many friends had Joshua invited round? And the music - the pounding, insistent, senseless music. He accosted a passing black youth. ‘Have you seen Joshua?’

The boy stared at Leo. ‘No, man. He was around somewhere, but I ain’t seen him for a while. Sorry.’ He shrugged and went off, a large glass of Leo’s best Polish vodka in his hand.

Leo scanned the faces in the kitchen, all of whom looked back curiously at the silver-haired, middle aged man in his well-cut, casual clothes who had suddenly appeared. Joshua wasn’t among them. On his way to Joshua’s room, Leo stopped outside his own bedroom. He opened the door a little way and saw the figures on the bed, then closed it. He tried hard to suppress the anger he felt, but it was impossible. He had spoken to Joshua about this. He wanted to be told if any of Joshua’s friends were coming round, he wanted the numbers kept down, and the music. Above all, they were to leave the liquor alone and to respect Leo’s possessions. But as soon as Leo was out of sight, or so Joshua thought, he had broken each and every promise. He had apparently invited every friend and acquaintance he possessed to come round and do as they liked with Leo’s flat, and had then left them all to get on with it.

About to open Joshua’s door, Leo hesitated and knocked.
What in the name of God am I doing? he wondered. But he couldn’t help himself. Even under the present circumstances, good manners prevailed. There was no answer. Leo heard the sound of a girl’s voice and knocked again, a little louder. After a few seconds Joshua came to the door, naked to the waist, fastening his trousers. He stared in shock at Leo. Leo glanced past Joshua at the girl on the bed and felt his heart begin to thud thickly, unpleasantly. He tried to keep his voice from shaking as he spoke.

‘I want you,’ he said quietly to Joshua, who still stood immobile in the doorway, ‘to get all of these people out of here within the next ten minutes.’

It was a few seconds before Joshua spoke. ‘No,’ he replied, recovering his self-possession. ‘I don’t see why I should.’ His expression was sullen and defensive, but also wary.

Leo was lost for words. He thought something within him might explode. He closed his eyes briefly, willing himself to relax. ‘Joshua,’ he said, his tone deliberately even, ‘I don’t want them here. This is my flat, and they have no place here. And you won’t either, if you don’t get them out of here. They are your guests and you will ask them to leave.’

‘No,’ said Joshua again and tried to close the door on Leo. Leo pushed back and they struggled on either side for a few seconds before Leo’s strength prevailed and the door flew back open, sending Joshua sprawling back against the bed. The girl sat there, staring, Joshua’s shirt clutched against her nakedness. Leo, panting with the exertion, turned and went through to the drawing room. He switched the lights
on briskly, one after another, and crossed the room to turn the music off, stumbling over people on the floor.
Deja vu
, thought Leo … as he flicked the music centre off. The noise of conversation died away instantly.

He addressed the silent room. ‘Despite what Joshua may have told you to the contrary, you are not welcome here. The party is over. This is my flat, and I want you all to leave. Now. Please.’

A murmur rose, then some laughter. People got up from armchairs, sofas, the floor, and began to move towards the doorway. Leo was surprised at their docility. Following them to the doorway, Leo saw a couple emerge from his bedroom. He turned and went back into the drawing room. Joshua appeared in the doorway, pulling on his shirt, watching as his friends drifted out, not responding to their bantering remarks.

Leo surveyed the empty, smoky room. Someone had spilt a glass of red wine on the arm of a sofa and on the floor. The glass lay where it had fallen, unbroken on the carpet next to the stain. Among the glasses on the mantel, someone had left a cigarette to smoulder unnoticed, burning a long groove in the polished wood. Apart from the general mess of cans and a few plates on the floor, that appeared to be the extent of the damage. Nothing that he couldn’t throw some money at and have put right within a few days. He felt his heart rate gradually drop, a sense of proportion return. There couldn’t have been more than fifteen people in the room and another six or so in the kitchen. The illusion of a full-blown party, crowded with people, throbbing with deafening music, had been
transitory. Still, the sense of violation was inescapable. The couple in his bedroom, the contents of his drinks cabinet plundered and, he guessed, a large amount of his wine gone. And Joshua’s barefaced, amoral indifference, while he busied himself with that girl in his room. That was the worst part for Leo. To be faced with a truth which he had known and failed to acknowledge. That Joshua didn’t care for him in the slightest, had absolutely no sense of morality, or fidelity. Yet he, in that stupid escapade with Melissa, was hardly any better. They were both wretched.

He glanced up, met Joshua’s hostile gaze and felt, with something that was almost panic, a sudden, familiar urge to pacify, to apologise. Instead, he turned and picked up a bottle of Scotch, still three-quarters full, from the top of the drinks cabinet. He took out a glass and, with a wry smile, poured himself a couple of inches and drank it back, while Joshua watched.

‘I’m surprised they left anything at all,’ said Leo, with a calmness which he did not feel, as he set down the glass. He had no idea what Joshua would do or say next. After that futile little shoving match in Joshua’s bedroom, he doubted if the worst had blown over. Still, he would try to defuse it, to play the situation down. The drink, after two days of abstinence, shot through his system like fire.

‘You meant what you said in there, didn’t you?’ said Joshua, his voice shaking slightly - whether from anger or agitation Leo did not know. ‘I don’t have a place here, do I? Not really. This just proves it.’ He swallowed and his voice grew harder. ‘You know what, Leo? I’m sick of all this. Moving in here was the biggest mistake of my life. All
that crap about sharing everything. When it comes down to it, you want it all on your terms, don’t you? You give me money, presents, fuck me when you want to, and think I should be happy. You must be mad.’

Leo said nothing. He watched as Joshua buttoned up his shirt, his eyes fastened on that heartbreaking hollow between Joshua’s throat and breastbone. He tried to regain the lucidity of thought which had come to him earlier that day, when he had been feeding the horses with Oliver. Feeling in need of another drink, he poured more whisky into the glass. If he was going to ask Joshua to go, this was the moment.

But he couldn’t do it. He could not stand there, looking at Joshua, and ask him to leave. He might never see him again. In the end, he was too much in love for anything but another compromise. His need of Joshua was so utterly that he couldn’t face losing him. Patiently he began his familiar litany. ‘Look, it’s a question of trust, Joshua. I want this to be your home, as much as mine, but in the end there have to be ground rules. We’ve talked—’

‘Oh, forget it, Leo.’ Joshua’s voice sounded suddenly weary. It was this which shocked Leo most. The complete lack of antagonism, the sudden, unmistakable sound of someone who didn’t care any more. ‘I don’t need this bullshit. I don’t need the car, the clothes, the money or you.’ He paused, looking directly at Leo, and said in a voice that was almost light with relief, ‘I’m off.’

Leo stood motionless as Joshua left the room. He waited for his feet to move, to feel himself cross the room, go after him. But he didn’t. A few moments later Joshua
returned, carrying a canvas holdall hastily stuffed with a few belongings. He set it down in the doorway as he pulled on his jacket, the one Leo had bought him just a few weeks earlier. He fished in the pocket, pulled out his car keys and the keys to Leo’s flat, and chucked them down on a side table. ‘Tell Chay I’m sorry about the job. I’ll see you around.’

It was done. It all happened so fast, so easily. There was nothing about Joshua’s behaviour to suggest that he wanted Leo to remonstrate with him, or plead with him to stay. Perhaps if there had been, Leo would have said or done something. As it was, he just stood with his glass of whisky in his hand and let Joshua go. Heard the door close. Then the door downstairs. The light sound of Joshua’s footsteps in the street. In his mind’s eye, Leo could see him crossing at the corner, heading - where? Sloane Square tube, probably. Maybe to find a taxi. And then? Oh, Joshua had lots of friends. Girls as well as boys. Leo did the only thing he could think of to thaw the numbing pain which was already closing coldly round his heart. He picked up the bottle of Scotch and poured some more, wondering how he was going to live now.

‘Hullo,’ said Anthony, bumping into David in the doorway to the clerks’ room. ‘I’m just off to tea. Coming?’

‘Yes, in a minute. Let me get rid of these.’ David dropped some papers in a tray and joined Anthony. They crossed Caper Court together. The sky above the Temple was mild and blue, and the distant roar of the Fleet Street traffic competed only slightly with the tapping drift of leaves as they
fell, one by one, from the autumn trees. Anthony breathed in the chilly air, conscious of how well he felt, how perfect everything seemed to be. He had just won an important case, his bank balance was looking healthy enough for him to think about buying a new car, and Camilla would be back this evening. The only flaw was his regret and guilt over Sarah. Regret? Well, that wouldn’t be quite true. He had gone into it with his eyes wide open. Sarah had her own wonderful way of putting things, of making you feel that it was all just harmless fun. It was a seductive line of thinking - that if no one knew, then no one would be hurt. Only it didn’t quite work out that way. He had slept with someone else while Camilla was away and however much he might tell himself that it had been purely physical, that there had been no element of emotional betrayal, the fact was that he had deceived the person he was supposed to be in love with. Quite deliberately and calculatingly. Sarah had told him that their brief fling would have no consequences, and he had gone along with that. But everything had consequences. He knew that. He was afraid of what they might be, in this case. In his heart he knew that damage had been done, even if Camilla never found out, and was fearful of what it might turn out to be.

David’s voice interrupted his train of thought. ‘Sorry, David. I was miles away. What did you say?’

‘I said, Roderick told me this morning that the chambers in New Square have fallen through. Some planning set have got them. I believe a few strings were pulled with the Estates Committee.’

‘Really? I thought it was all done and dusted. Mind you,
I’m not exactly sorry,’ remarked Anthony, as they went into the warmth of the common room. ‘I’d rather stay in the Temple. Still, I don’t suppose it ends there. We have to expand, so it’s just a question of finding somewhere else. No doubt Jeremy’s already on the case.’

Anthony noticed Leo sitting in a corner by himself. He had a newspaper on his lap, but was staring distractedly out of the window, a cup of untasted tea at his elbow. Anthony and David bought their tea and joined him.

‘You’re looking rather gloomy, old man,’ said David, as he sat down. ‘Practice collapsing?’ It was a joke which David always made to Leo, whose reputation and considerable earnings had been a source of envy to David ever since he had joined 5 Caper Court ten years ago.

‘I shouldn’t wonder,’ replied Leo. Although he smiled, Anthony saw that the expression in Leo’s eyes was hard and bitter, as though a nerve had been touched. He had noticed that Leo looked pretty awful these days. He seemed dog-tired, and his manner had lost its usual polish and sharpness. He even needed a haircut. Anthony longed to be able to help, to reach out with his mind and divine the source of Leo’s problems but, in the swings of intimacy and remoteness which characterised their relationship, Anthony knew that Leo was, at this moment, unreachable, a million miles away.