Guns Of Brixton (30 page)

    He
arrived at Linda's flat in Balham at the appointed time and pressed the bell.
The traffic on the main road made hearing anything inside impossible and he
wondered if she'd stood him up. He jiggled from foot to foot nervously as the
rain fell.

    Suddenly
the door opened and she was there, dressed in a long dark blue overcoat. 'You
came,' she said.

    'You
knew I would. I just wondered if you'd be here.'

    'When
did I ever let you down?'

    He
didn't answer.

    'Well,
are you coming in?' she said. 'It's freezing out.' He entered and she shut the door
behind him. They were standing in a small hall no bigger than a telephone
booth. In the corner was a stack of envelopes thrown higgledy piggledy. Mail
for previous tenants, he guessed. A flight of carpeted stairs led upwards.
'Come on up,' she said. 'Mind you, it's freezing indoors too. I've put on the
heating but it'll take a bit of time to warm up.'

    'I
don't mind,' said Mark.

    He
followed her up the single flight, then through another door, down a corridor
and into a simply furnished living room. Linda felt the radiator by the door
and said, 'That's better. It'll be all right in a few minutes.'

    She
sat on a sofa and Mark, divested of his coat, took the armchair opposite. The
curtains were open and the rain bounced off the window sill outside. The
windows themselves had been fitted with double glazing, which muted the sound
of the traffic and the rain.

    'Nice
place,' he said.

    'No
it's not,' she replied. 'It's a cheap conversion, the floorboards are warped
and the roof leaks. But I don't care. Why should I?'

    Mark
felt there was no answer to that.

    'So,'
she said. "You wanted to talk to me.'

    'That's
right.'

    'Well,
go on then. I'm listening.'

    'I
don't know where to start.'

    'Start
with you coming looking for me when I was fifteen and still at school.'

    'I
wanted to see what the children of the bloke who'd killed my father looked
like, you know that.'

    'You
wanted revenge. And I fell for you, and you so kindly broke the news to me one
afternoon after we'd made love.'

    'I
blew it.'

    'And
making me fall in love with you, then dumping me, was that the revenge you were
looking for?'

    'No.
I fell in love with you too. The first day I saw you. You know that too.'

    'You
had a funny way of showing it, I must say.'

    'I
showed it by keeping on at you to come back.'

    'You
did, didn't you.'

    Mark
had refused to give up after Linda had walked out on him that day at the hotel.

    He'd never
had her home phone number, since she wanted to keep their affair secret from
her family, and she'd always called him. So, at the beginning of the new term,
he started hanging around the school again, parking his car outside the gates.
Stalking, they'd call it now. Mark couldn't have cared less: he wanted her back
and intended to get her. But she ignored him. The school even called the cops,
and Mark had to stand ignominiously in the fine drizzle one January morning as
two uniforms spun his car in front of an interested audience of school kids.
Not that there was anything to find. Mark was smarter than that. But it was a
drag all the same, the cops grinning at the state of him and taking the piss
big time.

    But
it was the ever dependable Brenda who saved the day once again. She phoned him
one afternoon in February. 'How did you get my number?' he asked.

    'I
looked in Linda's book,' she said. 'You two, what are you like?'

    'I
messed up, Brenda,' he said. 'It's my fault.'

    'What
happened?'

    'That's
a bit personal,' he said.

    'All
right, don't tell me. But she's missing you like mad.'

    'She
told you that?'

    'She
doesn't have to. She's lost weight, and her school work's gone down the pan.'

    'So
what do I do?'

    'Come
round my house Saturday night. My folks are away, and Linda's sleeping over.
You can see her then. If she'll let you, that is.' She gave him an address in
Purley and he wrote it down.

    'And
she will be there?' he said.

    Brenda
giggled. 'Do you think I'm inviting you round to have my evil way with you?
Don't flatter yourself.'

    'Sorry,
Brenda.'

    'Not
that I wouldn't, if it was anyone else but Linda. But you're safe. Come about
eight.'

    Mark
presented himself at the door the next Saturday evening, eight on the dot,
still half expecting that it was a practical joke. Brenda answered the door and
said: 'She's in the kitchen. I'll be upstairs. Don't break any furniture or
crockery.'

    He
kissed the girl on the cheek and she blushed. She wasn't half bad, as it happened,
but she wasn't Linda.

    Linda
was in the kitchen drying up some dishes when Mark walked in. 'Who is it,
Bren?' she asked. When she turned she dropped the plate she was holding, and if
Mark's reflexes had been any slower, crockery indeed would have been broken.
But he caught it a foot from the floor and handed it back to her.

    'Surprise,'
he said.

    'What
are you doing here?' demanded Linda, then light dawned. 'That bloody Brenda.'

    'I
had to see you.'

    'I
thought the police warned you off.'

    'Bloody
Old Bill. Whose idea was that, anyway?'

    'The
headmaster's. Mr Barnes.'

    'You've
lost weight,' he said.

    'I'm
smoking too much.'

    'I
miss you, Linda.'

    'Do
you? The daughter of your father's killer?'

    'Christ,
I'm sorry I told you. Or at least I'm sorry I told you the way I did. It was
stupid.'

    'Unfeeling,
I'd call it.'

    'I
know.'

    'Then
why?'

    'Because
I couldn't go on lying to you.'

    'Oh,
Mark.'

    'Linda.
Can we try it once more? It's all out in the open now.'

    'You
hurt me.'

    'I
know. Do your folks know?'

    'Only
Sean. He was the only one I could tell. He wanted to go round and bash you up.'

    'I
deserved it.' 'At least you didn't come to my house.'

    'I
wouldn't do that.'

    'Barnes
wanted to tell my dad, but I begged him not to.'

    'What
did you say?'

    'That
you were just a boy who wouldn't take no for an answer.'

    'And
I won't.'

    Linda
put the plate carefully on the draining board. 'Where's Brenda?' she asked.

    'Upstairs,
I think.'

    'Probably
eavesdropping outside.'

    'Let's
give her something to listen to then,' and Mark took Linda in his arms and
kissed her. He felt her relax in his embrace and he knew that things were going
to be all right.

    But,
of course, he was wrong.

    'I'm
sorry, Linda,' said Mark as they sat together in the flat in Balham. 'You don't
know how sorry. I've lain awake a thousand nights since trying to make sense of
it.'

    'And I
haven't, I suppose.'

    'I
don't know.'

    'Well,
I have. Even with my husband lying next to me asleep, I thought about you. You
fucking bastard, I hate you.' She was crying.

    'Do
you?' He moved to sit next to her and she slid as far away from him on the sofa
as she could. But he moved closer and took her in his arms. She fought him for
a moment and then hugged him close. He breathed in her perfume, almost gasping,
like a man suffering from smoke inhalation taking in oxygen, and he kissed her.
On her mouth and on her cheeks where the tears tasted like salt and he drank
them as if his life depended on it.

    She
kissed him back and they both knew that they were lost. 'Take me to bed,' she
said.

    They
stood, and she took his hand and led him out of the room and upstairs to the
top floor where there were two bedrooms. They went into the larger of the two,
where there was a double bed. It was cold in the room and the rain beat on the
roof and ran down the window like a mother's tears. For all the evidence to the
contrary, they might have been the only two people in the world.

    They
got undressed quickly. 'Don't look,' she said. 'It's not like the first time.
I'm afraid everything's going south.'

    'You're
still so beautiful,' he said. 'The most beautiful woman I've ever seen. It's
exactly like the first time. Remember in the car?'

    'Bloody
romantic,' she said.

    'It
was as far as I was concerned.'

    'Hush,'
she replied. 'Don't talk.'

    Afterwards
they lay together. 'You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?' said Linda.
'All part of your plan.'

    'There
was no plan.'

    'Don't
give me that. You get the full SP from Uncle John, come snooping round my
house. Follow me to the supermarket. Tell me we've got to meet somewhere
private. Well, at least me having this place saved you the price of a hotel
room for the afternoon.'

    'Don't,
Linda,' said Mark, touching her face gently. 'Don't make it like that.'

    'What
is it like then?'

    'I
just wanted to be with you.'

    'And
I wanted to be with you a thousand nights and daytimes too, but where the
bloody hell were you? Running bloody riot somewhere, I suppose.'

    She
reached for her bag, rummaged around inside it and came out with a packet of
cigarettes. She stripped off the cellophane, opened the box, ripped off the
silver paper and fished one out. 'Look what you've made me do,' she said.

    'I'm
sorry,' he said, taking the cigarette from between her fingers and putting it
on the bedside table. 'I was lots of places. Horrible places mostly. But I
always wanted to be with you.'

    'Well,
here we are. Older, but no wiser. So what's next?'

    'I
don't know. All I know is, that after today I want to be with you all the more,
and all the time.' • 'A new daddy for my children, is that what you mean?'

    'They
could've been our children,' said Mark.

    'Are
you kidding?' she asked. 'Don't you ever say that. For Christ's sake, Mark.
You're a villain, my brother's a copper. Your bloody uncle's a gangster. My
father's a bank robber who's in prison for killing your father who was a copper
too. Christ, we're almost bloody related.'

    Mark
could hardly believe that what she was saying was almost exactly what he'd said
to Martine the night before. 'Is what we just did? Commit incest then?' he
asked.

    She
didn't reply, 'I've got to go,' she said, getting out of bed and grabbing the
duvet to cover her nakedness.' Luke'll be home from school soon. I'll have a
shower. The water'll be hot.'

    'Do
you have to go?'

    'Why?
Want seconds?'

    'Don't
be like this, Linda,' he said. 'You're only hurting yourself.'

    'Makes
a change from you doing it then,' she said. After she'd left the room and he
heard the sound of running water from the bathroom, Mark lay back in the bed
and sighed. Good move, he thought to himself.

    She
was back in minutes, a towel now wrapped around her waist. She found her
scattered clothes and began to dress. He watched her every move.