All Tomorrow's Parties (20 page)

She had to respect his wishes. Ella had seen into the eye of John’s soul and it was crying. That night she had promised never to say a word to Laine.

If she had realised then how painful things would be she would never have agreed to do it.

She had had to tell him of Laine’s miscarriage and of her marriage to Tony. Each letter had taken her great strength. The ink had flowed softly over the fawn coloured paper, flowing as tears, tears she had been holding back as she tried so hard to detach herself from the words written. Miscarriage, marriage, love. She imagined John receiving these letters, eager with anticipation as he saw the airmail stickers and the delicate flow of Ella’s handwriting, then the gut-wrenching abyss that would follow the words she had written. She dared not imagine the damage her words had done to him.

His responses however hid whatever emotions he had felt. His replies always began the same - thanking her for her previous letter, asking how she was, asking her to write again to “keep him posted”. Posted of what? Did he really want to know how Laine’s life was moving on? Did he want the cuts to run ever deeper? With each stroke of her pen Ella knew she was striking him down, until eventually what? She dared not even consider. Shakespeare had known how deep a blow from a pen could strike, the pen a much more powerful weapon than any gun - the modern day equivalent. Ella understood the weight of the words she had been delivering and it had weighed heavy on her.

She would continue to write until John indicated he did not wish to hear from her again, this is what they had agreed. Ella had posted her last letter only yesterday.

She heard the keys first, then the front door slam shut. Ella stood up. Quite why, she wasn’t sure, she knew it would be Tony, but hadn’t worked out whether to tell him about the photos. Everything was feeling very uncomfortable.

He put his keys in the dish on the table by the front door and was just about to walk past the living room when Ella spoke. “Hi Tony.” Her voice sounded cracked, as if she had smoked a few too many Gauloises.

“Hi El, what you doing sitting all quiet for?”

”I um, I’ve been waiting for you, it’s been a bit of a strange night.” She realised she was shaking, ever so slightly but visibly none the less.

“What’s happened? Where’s Laine?” She saw the concern in his eyes.

‘She’s asleep, she’s shaken but she’s OK.”

“Shaken?” The confusion on his face was evident.

“You are gonna need a drink, and probably best if you sit down too.” She headed for the whisky and poured two rather large glasses.

She decided he needed to know about the photos, which meant he would have to know about John. She didn’t have a choice, the stakes were too high.

She would make it sound like a holiday romance, but he had to know, she was sick of secrets.

“Wha…wha…do you mean you know about the photos?” Ella was now shaking even more forcefully, a combination of shock and anger.

She had put her hands on her lap to try to stop her legs from shaking but all that happened was that she now looked as if she were bouncing up and down. She stood up and started pacing.

“Someone sent them to my office just after you guys came back from Italy. I ignored them, I thought it was obviously some sicko trying to cause trouble”, said Tony.

“So… so you knew, all this time, you knew?” Ella’s chest felt tight and painful. She was conscious that she was regulating her breathing, something she only did when she was scared.

“Yes I knew, Laine and I were right at the beginning of our relationship, well even that’s debatable- after all she was still living with Danny when we got together. I felt that if it had been important Laine would have told me, come on Ella, this is the 1980s, we hadn’t made any sort of commitment to each other. Receiving those photos showed me how jealous I was seeing Laine with another man. It made me realise I wanted us to be exclusive, I love Laine.”

“I was thinking of proposing when you guys came back, and what this did was make me realise I really did want to marry Laine.” Tony was feeling tired but knew it was important to open up to Ella. He didn’t really get why she was so emotional.

“But didn’t you think it was weird that someone had followed us? You should have at least told us?” Ella felt her head was spinning, nothing seemed to be making much sense, she must breathe, in 2,3,4, out 2,3,4...

“Not really, weird things have been happening to me for a long time, I just thought it was some chancer who knew me and you guys and thought they could cause a bit of trouble. I didn’t tell you cos I thought they had wanted to get at me – not you two.”

“Well from where I’m sitting it is fucking weird.” Ella’s voice had now gone up an octave or two.

“You have surely got to have a screw loose somewhere along the line to go to these sort of lengths”, she said, handing him the photos. This is all too bloody mad, she thought, feeling a rush of heat in her cheeks.

“El, this was over a year ago. To be honest I’d almost forgotten it, but now, well now I agree it is fucking weird”, he let out a huge sigh. Tony realised just how tired he was, not just tired from working like a dog over the last few months but just tired, “burn out” they were calling it now, maybe he had that.

He’d had to be at the top of his game non-stop for the past three years, which coupled with getting married and loving Laine so much that it hurt he felt had used up his last stash of energy.

“What now El, what now? Do you think this has tipped Laine over the edge?” He was reminded of Laine’s haughty smile when she didn’t get her own way, informing him, “Didn’t he know she was a woman on the edge?” God she was sexy, no matter what she was doing or saying.

“Andy will be able to sort this, he’ll be able to get to the bottom of it”, Ella said, glancing over towards Tony who had obviously gone into his own little world as he was smiling like a Cheshire cat.

“What do you mean, sort it – we don’t know anything.” Tony was back in the room!

“No we don’t, and that’s why right now we’re vulnerable. We don’t know who is behind this or why. If we knew who, we may be able to work it out. Andy, well, he’s well connected with private investigators and that sort of thing so I’m sure he’ll be able to help us”.

“Good, the more I think about it the more the little bastard who’s doing this is gonna pay. Call Andy in the morning El, tell him I’m happy to pay whatever it takes. You’re right, this is all getting a bit fucking weird.” Tony stood up from the 1940s leather armchair which he and Laine had brought at an auction in Bath.

They had paid well over the odds for it. Laine had been obsessed by it and it was one of the few times he had known not to try and dissuade her. The chair had fascinated her because of its history. It was believed to have belonged to the English wife of a US army soldier who had been sent to Korea as part of an international unit aiding South Korea. They were told that the soldier had loved his wife with overwhelming passion and had been fearful of leaving her alone. He made a secret compartment down the side of the chair big enough to hold a pistol or small knife. His wife could sit each day in the chair knowing that she was safely protected by her husband even when he was away. Laine had insisted they buy the chair and had not stopped until Tony had given in. She loved the idea of being completely and utterly consumed with love and wanting the protection of that love above all else. She had made Tony also buy her the original knife (that had remained unused).

“Each day I will sit in this chair and think of you”, she had jested.

“It’s 3am Ella, I think you should stay, would be good for you to be around in the morning for when she wakes up. God knows she’s been through a lot – is that OK? It’s just sometimes I know it’s easier for girls to talk than for me sticking my size 11s in. That’s if it’s alright by you?” Tony poured himself another whisky, downing it in one. He may not truly admit it, thought Ella, but he is really spooked too.

“Yeah that’ll be good, didn’t really fancy going back to my empty flat now”, said Ella, collecting the glasses.

“Thanks Ella you are a true friend, you know where everything is, help yourself. I’m gonna head up now, make sure Laine’s OK”. And with that Tony hugged her and headed for the stairs.

Halfway up he turned. “You know, you’re right, I should have said something, I’m sorry”, he said.

He had perhaps made the biggest mistake of his relationship. Would Laine ever forgive him for not talking to her about it?’ He turned and wearily climbed the staircase.

12

“Are you sure I don’t have anything in my teeth?” Karenna lay on the bed grinning, pearly whites on display.

“I’ve told you there’s nothing there Karenna – although if you’d asked me an hour ago, well….” Chris laughed as he rolled over the top of her.

“‘Oi now you know you are just rude don’t you?” she laughed.

Chris had woken before Karenna and could not believe what had happened the night before. Karenna had mesmerised him and here he was the morning after still mesmerised. She had not only been great in bed but he had found her witty and entertaining: what a change from their last encounter, he hadn’t been able to get away quick enough. Was it him who had changed or was it her, or a combination? A combination, he decided. When he had first dated her it was fair to say he was playing the field, not really looking for anything other than a quick shag. But that was almost two years ago and since then a lot of his friends (including Tony) had settled down. Chris felt that perhaps this was something he now wanted; although in true Kendrick style he approached it with a degree of caution. After all, he didn’t want to rule himself out of the field altogether. Keep all options open, he had told Tony only the night before, although now he wasn’t so convinced.

He had taken Karenna back to his flat, a bachelor pad if ever there was one. Empty beer cans had greeted their arrival in the hallway, followed by ashtrays fit to bursting and a sink full of dirty dishes and kebab remnants. God, he must have had his beer goggles on to think Karenna wanted to come back to this. If she had been shocked, she didn’t show it, in fact within ten minutes the only room they saw for the rest of the night was the bedroom.

Now, in the cold light of day, he was fascinated by her. She had a “there but not there” quality which he recognised in himself. Many times he had been “playing the part” with various girls, doing and saying the things he knew they wanted to hear, only with one real motive in mind. Now he could see the same trait in Karenna. Oh I’m going to have fun with you, he thought. As yet I don’t know the game you’re playing, but a game you are playing for sure and I heroically shall endeavour to find out what it is you want from me, he thought smiling to himself. He may be mesmerised but he could still tell when he was being played, he thought triumphantly.

She could see him, walking in the woods calling her name. She could see the dew on the grass and hear the dawn chorus beginning to chime, the start of a new day - he had been calling all night. She had tried to get to him, she had run through the woods following his voice, feeling the brambles scratching her legs, smelling the cool leafy mulch as she breathed in, but at each turn he wasn’t there. She had picked up the pace, his voice getting louder, her heart beating faster: she could feel the sweat dripping down her back as she raced to find him. She knew she was running out of time.

“Laine wake up honey, I’m here”, a soft familiar voice echoed somewhere close by.

Sunlight, sunlight hurt her eyes as she focused on Tony sitting at the side of the bed.

“It’s OK, I think you were having a bad dream, you were thrashing all over the place and you’re drenched in sweat. It’s OK honey, I know what’s happened. Ella’s still here”. With that he took hold of her hand and kissed it.

“I’ve made you a cup of tea. I told Ella we’ll go out for brunch when you’re ready – OK?” Laine nodded, she couldn’t speak: if she spoke the truth may come out and now was not the time.

As he left the room she buried her head into the pillow and sobbed. It had not been a bad dream: it had been her forever dream, almost every night the same dream, sometimes more intense than others but nonetheless the same dream, always searching always hearing but never seeing, always knowing that the voice was the voice that haunted her soul and tore her spirit into a frenzy. John was there somewhere calling for her and she had still to find him. Some nights as she lay in bed she prayed that tonight would be the night she would find him. That she would have enough energy to carry on regardless.

The bright sunlight had illuminated the bedroom. She could hear Wham!’s “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” coming from the kitchen radio. The clock said 10.17am but it was deliberately set fast as neither she nor Tony were very good at getting up so it was probably about 10ish.

How do I feel? She thought. Numb? Yep. Emotional? Yep, Pissed off? Yep, Scared? No. Actually no I don’t feel scared. Seeing Tony was not going to be easy but she knew him well enough to know he would not hold it against her. Since their marriage Laine had not so much as looked at another man. There were only two men in her life: one in the real world - Tony, and one in her memories and dreams - John.