Brenton Brown (28 page)

Finding a clear spot, Brenton and Juliet rolled out their towels. Juliet lay down looking at the sea and Brenton took out his bottle of lavender oil and started to massage it into her
shoulders
. She closed her eyes.

‘I’m only doing this for ten minutes,’ said Brenton. ‘Then I’m going for a dip.’

‘One hour then you got a deal,’ said Juliet.

‘Half an hour.’

‘Forty-five minutes.’

‘Forty minutes,’ chuckled Brenton. ‘But a break after twenty.’

‘Deal,’ laughed Juliet. ‘But you have to make up the hour when we get home.’

‘Deal!’

Checking in at the Blue Moon Hotel that overlooked Miami South Beach, Clayton asked the receptionist if she could arrange for his rental car to be ready and waiting in two hours.

He went up to his room and showered, changed his clothes and had a light meal. He then checked his messages on his laptop computer but every now and again he took out a scrap of paper and read the address written on it. Before leaving his room he took out his wallet from his back pocket and looked at the image he always kept in there; a photograph of a three-year-old Breanna, Juliet and himself. Carefully he placed it back in his wallet and made his way to the hotel’s reception. He picked up his rental car keys along with a flyer advertising the hotel’s spa swimming pool. He made a mental note to check out the
fountains
and waterfall feature of the hotel and thought Juliet would enjoy seeing it … if she returned with him.

Stepping outside he was hit by the heat of the afternoon sun and he quickly climbed into the car and adjusted the rear mirror. He took out the address from his back pocket and keyed it into the satellite navigation system. He turned the ignition, switched on the air conditioning but before he pulled away, he looked at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. ‘Juliet,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t let this be true.’

He drove out of the hotel car park and made his way to the
South Dixie Highway – US One. He glanced at the graphics on the satellite navigation system and it read
South Miami Heights
. He checked the time on his watch. Three twenty p.m.

‘You’re not getting dressed?’ shouted Brenton from his kitchen. ‘You’ll have to get ready sooner or later. I wanna leave here by five. It’s half past three already.’

‘Do we have to go out this evening?’ said Juliet, dressed only in one of Brenton’s old T-shirts. ‘Can’t we stay in?’

‘I’ve already told Ramirez about you,’ replied Brenton. He turned over four rashers of turkey bacon in the frying pan. ‘He wants to meet my sister. His wife is cooking something for us.’

‘Can’t we see him tomorrow?’

‘I have to work tomorrow,’ said Brenton.

‘I’m tired,’ argued Juliet.

‘You can sleep tonight.’

‘I would sleep but you won’t let me! I’ve hardly slept since I’ve been here.’

Satisfied that the turkey bacon was cooked, Brenton placed two rashers on each plate to complete a meal with scrambled eggs and toast. He placed Juliet’s plate on a tray and brought it to her.

Sitting up in bed, Juliet was flicking through the TV channels. ‘I can’t watch American TV,’ she remarked. ‘Too many adverts.’

‘That’s why I don’t bother,’ said Brenton. He presented the tray to Juliet. ‘I just listen to the radio or play my music.’

‘Thanks, Brenton,’ said Juliet accepting the tray. ‘I have to see if I can find this turkey bacon in England. This is bad. Having breakfast after three o’clock?’

‘Don’t worry about it. You’re on holiday.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Juliet repeated. ‘If that’s the case, let me eat this and have a nap afterwards. I really need to catch up on sleep. Can’t you call Ramirez and tell him we’re going to be a bit late?’

Brenton kissed Juliet on the forehead and said, ‘Yeah, OK. No worries.’

‘Looking forward to going to Orlando at the weekend,’ said Juliet.

‘Yep, you’re gonna love it.’

‘I want to check out the Epcot Center. How long does it take to get there?’

‘About four hours. It’s one straight drive.’

‘And we’re spending the weekend there?’

‘Yep. One day at the Epcot place and the next day at Universal or Disneyland. Your choice.’

‘I’ll sleep on it and look at the leaflets again,’ said Juliet.

‘OK, I’m going to eat in the front room; got to catch up on my taxes and t’ing. Oh, and I got to reply to Floyd’s e-mail.’

‘OK,’ said Juliet. ‘Don’t be too long and join me when you’re finished.

Fifty minutes later Brenton’s doorbell rang. He got up from his computer desk in the lounge to answer it. He pulled the door open and saw Clayton in front of him. He reeled back slightly. He blinked and re-focused his eyes. Before Brenton could react or say anything, Clayton walked into the reception area. ‘I thought I’d surprise, Juliet,’ he said. ‘I’ve lined up a Caribbean cruise. Where is she?’

Still standing by the front door with his hand on the
door-handle,
Brenton stuttered and couldn’t get any words out. Clayton offered him a suspicious glare before turning right into the hallway. ‘Juliet!’ he called. ‘Juliet!’

Something within Brenton allowed Clayton to look for her. He remained in the reception area. Shock was written on his face.

Clayton checked the first bedroom. He quickly walked into the second. As he was coming out into the hallway he met Juliet under the doorframe of Brenton’s bedroom. She was wearing
a pair of Brenton’s tracksuit bottoms and Brenton’s T-shirt. Clayton scanned the room. He noticed the untidy bed. He saw Juliet’s suitcase. Her toiletries. His deodorant. Her
make-up
. His shaving cream. Her slippers. His sandals. Her
underwear
. His socks. Juliet’s long pink towel was covering the foot of the bed. One of Brenton’s towels was draped over a chair. Juliet retreated until her legs hit the bed. She sat down. Clayton followed her every move. Something stopped him from
entering
the bedroom. Juliet could hear Brenton’s naked feet padding along the hallway. Clayton still glared at her. He turned away. Brenton walked towards him. He stopped.

‘I always had a thought in the back of my head,’ Clayton said calmly. ‘Even before Ms Massey passed away. I didn’t want to think …’ Clayton spun around again. He searched Juliet’s eyes. ‘For years I was praying it wasn’t true.’

His black shoes echoing off the ceramic tiles, Clayton
about-turned
and brushed past Brenton. Juliet remained on the bed motionless. She gazed into the palm of her right hand. Brenton stared at her. Clayton reached the reception area. ‘Breanna will find this interesting!’ he shouted.

Juliet and Brenton stared at each other. For a long moment they couldn’t move. Juliet finally found her voice. ‘He can’t tell Breanna!’

Frantically searching for his truck keys, Brenton found them on the bedside cabinet. He ran along the hallway and out of the house. Clayton had just pulled away. Brenton jumped into his cab and fired the ignition. He screeched into reverse and chased after Clayton. Clayton turned left at the next junction. Brenton changed gears and signalled left. He looked right for
oncoming
traffic. He didn’t see the big truck speeding from the left. It smashed into his cab with such power that what was left of Brenton’s small pick-up truck spun five times before it came to a standstill. Brenton was killed instantly on impact.

Hearing the crash behind him, Clayton pulled up and leaped out of his rental car to take a look. He climbed back in and performed a u-turn to take a better view. He saw Brenton’s
mutilated
body protruding out of the windscreen; he wasn’t wearing a seat belt.

Holding his head in his hands, Clayton closed his eyes. ‘Oh my God!’ he whispered. ‘Oh my God! Oh my God!’

He composed himself enough to dial 911 on his mobile and he checked on the driver of the large truck; he was in shock but had only superficial cuts and bruises. Other motorists were stopping and coming out of their cars.

Taking in a deep breath, Clayton returned to his car and drove the three hundred yards to Brenton’s house. He saw Juliet walking towards him with her arms folded. He parked the car and waited for her. Residents were emerging from their homes to see what had happened.

Juliet reached Clayton. ‘I’m, I’m so sorry,’ he said.

Juliet didn’t seem to have heard him. Staring ahead she could see the back end of Brenton’s pick-up truck pointing towards the pavement. Her steps were measured and calm. Her gaze didn’t falter.

‘I’ll, I’ll drive you the rest of the way,’ Clayton offered.

Ignoring Clayton’s offer, Juliet walked straight ahead, arms folded and staring vacantly in front of her. It was as if she knew already that Brenton had passed. The further she walked the more she could see of the devastation. By the time she reached the crash scene, sirens were sounding in the distance. Clayton tried to comfort her the best way he could as ambulance men cut Brenton’s body free of the wreckage. Juliet watched calmly. She didn’t listen to anything that was being said.

When Brenton’s body was finally laid on a stretcher in a black body bag, Juliet walked up to him. ‘I’m his sister,’ she said to the medics.

She unzipped the body bag to reveal Brenton’s bloodied head. His eyes were now closed. She knelt down and placed her left palm on his cheek. She kissed him on the forehead. The medics looked at her. She unzipped the body bag further and took out Brenton’s left hand. She brought it to her left cheek and closed her eyes. She opened them again before carefully replacing the hand. Clayton looked on. She kissed Brenton on the forehead and then the lips. She wiped something from his nose. She traced her right finger over the contours of his face. She ran her fingers over his head before kissing it. She dropped her head as she zipped up the body bag. She stood up. Brenton’s blood was on her face and her hands. ‘OK,’ she said, still gazing at the body bag.

The medics wheeled Brenton into the waiting ambulance. Juliet stood watching as the police interviewed witnesses. Clayton went to comfort her but she didn’t acknowledge him.

It was Clayton who arranged for Brenton’s body to be flown back to London. He and Juliet didn’t exchange a word until they were flying halfway across the Atlantic. Climbing out of his
business
class seat, Clayton walked down to where Juliet was sitting in economy class. She was staring vacantly out the window. ‘If you are …’ he said in a whisper. ‘If you are worried then don’t be. I will never tell Breanna. She doesn’t deserve that.’

Juliet kept on gazing out the window.

‘As for us,’ Clayton resumed. ‘I’ll … I’ll leave any talk of divorce for now. I don’t want the media saying I’m a heartless bastard for filing for divorce when you have just buried your brother.’

Juliet didn’t respond.

‘But we’ll have to deal with that eventually,’ Clayton
continued
. ‘At the end of the day I want someone to, er, feel for me the way you … you felt for him. I want to be with someone like that. You understand?’

‘Of course you do,’ said Juliet. She still stared out of the window. ‘I’m sorry that someone couldn’t have been me … real sorry.’

‘Yes.’

At last Juliet turned around to face Clayton. ‘Thanks for
everything
. I was in no state to …’

‘I know,’ said Clayton. ‘I’m, I’m going back to my seat now. We’ll talk when we land … I still don’t understand why you wanted to fly economy class?’

Juliet nodded and offered a weak smile.

ARRIVING HOME FROM BRENTON’S FUNERAL,
Floyd went to his kitchen, took a bottle of whisky from a cupboard, poured it into a glass and mixed it with Coca-Cola. He dropped in three ice cubes and took his drink upstairs to his bedroom. He sat down on the chair facing his computer screen, put his glass down on a mouse pad and loosened his black tie. He took a sip of his drink, recoiled slightly as the whisky hit the back of his throat and stared into the blank computer screen. ‘Too much whisky,’ he whispered to himself.

As he took a second sip, his wife, Sharon, entered the bedroom. She took off her jacket, draped it over a chair and threw her handbag on to the bed. She walked over to Floyd, cupped his jaw and kissed him on the forehead. She then sat down on the bed, propped up by a family of pillows. Floyd switched on his computer.

‘I was crying more than everybody,’ Floyd admitted. ‘Just couldn’t keep it in.’

‘Most of us felt like that,’ Sharon replied. ‘Breanna was in bits. But Juliet? She seemed like she was in a different world. She didn’t say a word to me or anyone. She was all calm-like. Too calm. It was weird. It was like she was there but not there.’

‘Did I tell you?’ Floyd said, ignoring Sharon’s remarks. The computer screen flickered into life. Using the mouse he clicked on to Hotmail. He took another sip from his drink. ‘Brenton sent me an e-mail on the day of the crash.’

‘No, you didn’t tell me,’ said Sharon. ‘What did he say?’

‘I’ll read it to you. I didn’t see it till yesterday but here it goes.
Yo, Floyd. I know people say it’s wrong but it just feels right. In fact it 
feels perfect. It was unbelievable last time and even better this time. It’s like God made her for me. Serious. Nuff years have gone by but the way we feel hasn’t changed a damn thing. I can’t really put it into words but I feel so good right now. It’s like we have no say about the way we want each other. There hasn’t been a day when I haven’t thought about her, you know, being with her. It’s like fate. Serious. How can that be so wrong? It’s like God wanted it this way. There’s only her. Gonna drive her to Disneyland in a couple of days. I just enjoy being with her, you know, listening to her. It’s not all about the sex as you once said it was. Just watching her eating my cooking gives me a buzz. Anyway, laters for now. I hope you can reach in the new year. Oh, by the way, say hello to your mum for me and everybody else.
Laters.’

‘Hmm,’ Sharon replied.

‘What do you mean hmm?’

‘Since you told me about Brenton and Juliet you’ve always told me about this
they had no choice
t’ing. They were
fated
to be together and all that.’

‘Yeah,’ nodded Floyd. ‘I believe that. Them two were meant to get together at some point. There was no escaping it.’

‘Rubbish!’ countered Sharon. ‘They had
choice
. Brenton
convinced
himself that he had some kind of destiny to be with Juliet. He wouldn’t consider anything else because he thought that he was fated to be with her. He had choices, Floyd. It didn’t have to be that way.’

‘He didn’t have a choice,’ argued Floyd. ‘From the day he saw her that was it!
Boom!
He was on her. He was lost on her. And it was the same for her.’

‘They were arrogant,’ said Sharon. ‘They thought they could break all the rules. They behaved like they were gods or somet’ing. Say everyone did what they did? The world would be in fucking chaos! Sometimes I fantasise about Denzel Washington but it doesn’t mean I would risk everyt’ing and sleep with him! That’s
what they did! Risked all. They didn’t give a fuck about anyone else. It was a fuck-up when they first got together and an even bigger fuck-up to do the same t’ing a whole heap of years later. He could have chosen another life instead of forever waiting for the great beautiful Juliet Hylton to finally go to him. There was Lesley who was perfect for him. He fucked that up. And Shyanza who was real nice and loved him. But no! Brenton wouldn’t
consider
that. Why was he running away from marrying Shyanza? And you know why? ’Cos he had this fucked-up t’ing in his head that there was only Juliet for him. Only her!
That’s
the tragedy.’

‘But he believed that,’ said Floyd. ‘That was his reality. He really believed that Juliet was made for him.’

‘And I s’pose you’re gonna tell me it was the same for her?’

‘Yes, it was!’

‘
No!
Floyd. They didn’t allow anyt’ing else to develop with anybody else. Even Juliet marrying Clayton was a smokescreen. In her mind she still wanted Brenton. You know, think about it. With her looks and t’ing Juliet could’ve had anybody she wanted. If she wanted some kinda thrill to nice up her sex life she coulda chose someone a bit more discreet. But her
brother
? I’ve always had serious issues with that. Of all the men in the world she coulda chosen she chose her fucking brother!’

‘But don’t every woman in the world want to follow their heart and be with the man of their so-called dreams?’

‘Yes they do,’ answered Sharon. ‘But ninety nine point nine per cent of all women accept that they can never have their dream lover, their fantasy man, their Denzel Washington. They look at other options. After they have their teenage crushes on Denzel or Brad Pitt they decide on someone else and learn to love them. That’s the way it is for most of us. But no! Not for Juliet. Not for Brenton. Like I said they behaved like gods. They thought there were no rules for them.’

Floyd drank the rest of his whisky and Coke. He placed his
glass down and his eyes misted over. Sharon got off the bed and went to him. She held his left hand, caressed it and kissed it. Tears ran down his face.

‘He was like a brother,’ he said. ‘More than a brother. Brothers I know always have issues with each other. But with Brenton …’

‘I know,’ nodded Sharon.

‘Even if he lived his life woulda been a torment. You know, without her. It was killing him while he was living here, you know, to see her and Clayton …’

‘It would have been a torment because he convinced himself that he
had
to have her,’ said Sharon.

She stood up, walked behind Floyd and placed her arms around his neck.

‘That was his fate,’ argued Floyd. ‘Her fate too. They couldn’t escape it. But you know what? Maybe you’re right. They did go on like they’re gods. What man or woman doesn’t want to feel the way they did when they were together?’

Sharon thought about it. ‘I have to agree on that,’ she said. ‘They really went for what they thought would make them happy. But what a price he paid. What a price she’s going to pay.’

‘But isn’t that what it’s all about?’ asked Floyd. ‘What’s the point in living if you don’t go all out to do what makes you happy?’

THE END