Black Chalk (44 page)
Authors: Christopher J. Yates
Stop drinking, I say. Stop taking pills. And start working.
As simple as that?
No, probably not, I say.
And now I think the time has come. In the corner of the room there hangs a white sheet draped over my surprise.
She hasn’t asked about it but Dee watches me curiously when I kneel down and feel for the electrical cord, when I plug it into the socket.
The lights show faintly through the fabric. I stand up and pull the sheet off with as much flourish as I can muster. And there it stands, a four-foot artificial Christmas tree, green wiring wrapped all around and the red lights ablaze.
The fireflies are out, I say to Dee.
She sniffs and half laughs at my silly game.
And look, I say, there’s a present underneath the tree for you.
What is this, Jolyon? Dee says. A reminder of all the lies I told you in the park?
I make shushing sounds. That’s not what this is about, I say. I told you I understand what you did. The present is for you, Dee. Open it.
I have overwrapped the gift, trying to conceal my surprise with layers of bubble wrap and now it looks as big as a pillow.
Dee pulls away the paper, rips through the layers of wrap. And there it is, the large book as thick as a wedding album, red leatherette.
She blinks in amazement. She has to open it to be sure, to see her words inside.
Oh, Jolyon, she says, throwing her arms around my neck and starting to cry.
I hug Dee tight to me, rub circles on her back.
But how did you find it? she asks.
It doesn’t matter, I tell her. And don’t worry about anything, Dee.
But I’m scared, Jolyon.
No no no, I say. Everything’s going to be all right. I promise, Dee.
* * *
LXXVI (ii)
Because what should I have said to her? Do you think I should have told Dee the truth? That I don’t think she will ever see her husband again? The truth about Mark? Should I have told her that, two days ago, when I returned to my apartment from a walk, I found a small package outside my door? And that the package bore only my name and no address, no stamps? Should I have told her that inside the package I found twelve thousand pounds in cash beneath a sealed envelope? And that when I opened the envelope I found the following note written in green ink?
Dearest Jolyon,
First of all, heartfelt congratulations. Please find your prize money herewith. We agreed upon ten thousand pounds, of course, but the other two thousand pounds represent the monies deposited by yourself and Mark Cutler. (The tragic suicide of young Mark remains one of Game Soc’s overwhelming regrets. However, it was agreed, if you remember, that the deposit of any defaulter would be added to the prize fund. And the rules are the rules, we suppose. That was certainly always your position, Jolyon, if memories serve us correctly.)
There is one final matter: Game Soc is still in possession of a final one thousand pounds, the deposit banked by Theodore Chadwick Mason. Please do have a good hard think, Jolyon, and perhaps you might let us know the precise location at which Mr Mason might be found. There remains, alas, the awkward question of unfinished business.
Other than that, Jolyon, good luck. Good luck, and our very best wishes.
G.S.
No, I have told enough truth, I have played by their rules, I am free.
So I hold Dee, only hold her, old friends who have spent too long apart. I have hidden myself away from everything for too long. I have a small amount of money now, a gentle itch for something new.
But as I let Dee go, I start to wonder – how much did he love her? Did Chad love Dee unreservedly or did a part of him want her because, in having her, he imagined he was defeating me?
I always used to believe lengthy and rambling acknowledgements at the ends of novels to be an author showing off his number or quality of friends. Then I wrote one. And now I realise that so many people have been such an enormous help to me that it would be an act of unpardonable rudeness not to thank them all.
Therefore, thank you so very much to all the following:
For everything, my wife Margi Conklin. Not a single page of this novel would have been written were it not for her unwavering and loving support.
For reading me stories while curled on her lap, for encouraging me in my own story-telling and for her constant cheerleading, my mother, June.
For her unflagging support, shrewd suggestions and for never giving up, my extraordinary agent Jessica Papin at Dystel & Goderich.
For her inspiring, tireless insight and innumerable improvements, my editor Alison Hennessey at Harvill Secker.
For their enormous professionalism and kind support, Lauren Abramo, Arabella Stein and Michelle Weiner.
For their relentlessly intelligent reading, re-reading and invaluable suggestions, Jemima Rhys-Evans, Katherine Gleason, Paul Manes, Sarah Crawford, Shaun Pye (thank you for ideas as well), Jeffrey Williams, Jonathan Brown and May Kuckro.
For his help, twenty-three years ago, with the conception of the Game (which thankfully we never played), Chris Winslow.
For help with attention to detail, Ted & Sue Conklin and Jason Kohn. For publishing advice and support, Lisa Thompson. And thank you also to the following for their various and much-appreciated contributions – Andrew Cresswell, John Lee, Adam Lewin, Stefanie Cohen, Brian Sampson, Jillian Straus, Jon Luke, Sharon Wright, Dorothy Koomson, James Jones, Kathy Fry, Simon Rhodes, Ben Fowler and Felicity de Chenu.
C
HRISTOPHER
J. Y
ATES
was born and raised in Kent and studied law at Oxford University before working as a puzzle editor in London. He now lives in New York City with his wife and dog.
Black Chalk
is his debut novel. You can sign up for email updates
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Contents
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
BLACK CHALK.
Copyright © 2013 by Christopher J. Yates. All rights reserved. For information, address Picador, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
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Originally published in Great Britain by Harvill Secker, an imprint of the Random House Group
First U.S. Edition: August 2015
eISBN 9781250075567
First eBook edition: June 2015
