One Night (21 page)

‘Why would I expect not to be safe?’

He shrugged, half-laughed. ‘Aw,
Casey…’

I heard myself saying, ‘I can’t go
out with you, Todd. And it’s not only because of Shannon.’

‘What then?’

‘I’m still in love with Stephen.’

There. A truth dug up from burial
and set in the light.

‘Jeesh, that’s a load of crap!’

I was horribly offended. ‘What do
you mean?’

‘He’s well and away with this other
girl. I’ve seen them.’

‘Well, it doesn’t matter,’ I
responded, stung. ‘I still love him and until that’s resolved I don’t want to
get involved with anyone else.’

He sighed. ‘Well, I hope that’s not
going to take too long to be resolved.’

‘Please go.’

He stepped back towards the door
and I caught the look in his eye. He had come to engage, dominate and undo. And
he had achieved his aims. He would leave on that note.

‘Adios,’ he said. ‘I’ll be in
touch.’ He blew me a kiss and was gone.

I stood in the empty room as if his
imprint was still there. Weakness sluiced through me. I looked at Sticky on the
couch who looked back at me with large, mournful eyes as if to say:
it
wasn’t my fault
.

I moved leadenly to sit next to
him, ruffled his fur. Found a sad, sad smile for him.

‘All of it, my darling, is your
fault.’

I spent the rest of the afternoon watching an old movie on television and
sipping a glass of wine. I had nowhere to go and nothing much to do – and I
wasn’t setting foot outside my flat after dark. The movie flickered
unintelligibly in front of me; I couldn’t concentrate. My mind kept reviving
that moment when I had succumbed to Todd’s arms. What on earth had happened to
me? How had I become so weak? It would be infinitely more difficult to get rid
of him now. He had no doubt assumed I held a secret desire for him when nothing
could be further from the truth. I also realized it would be almost impossible
to report his stalker-type behaviour to the police. I would look a fool. Nobody
but I could see that odd, sly look in his eyes. A look that was definitely not
the love he professed – rather an obsessive look that implied he would be as
happy to hurt me as kiss me. I would have to find some way to rid of him. And I
would have to do it by myself.

My phone rang.

‘Shannon!’

‘Hi, Casey.’ She sounded odd.

I felt a little cold knock in my
heart. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Can I come and see you tomorrow
morning?’

‘I expect so. Why? What’s
happened?’

‘It’s Todd.’ She paused. I stopped
breathing. ‘It’s just a little
weird
, you know. It’s not something I can
talk about on the phone.’

Without thinking, I asked, ‘Is it
anything to do with me?’

Another pause, longer. Eventually
she responded, ‘Why would it have anything to do with you?’

I laughed slightly. It sounded like
a croak. ‘It’s just that I know my mother asked Todd to keep an eye on me and I
would like to make it very clear that it isn’t what I want. Just so you know.’

‘It’s not about that.’

‘Then what is it?’

There was another silence. I could
hear her breathing.

‘Are you alright?’

‘Yes. Suppose.’

‘Then what’s wrong?’

‘Casey, I’m frightened.’

My heart felt as though it had
shrunk. ‘Frightened of what?’

‘Of Todd.’

I felt a snap of rage. ‘Has he hit
you?’

‘No, nothing like that.
Well…nothing so obvious.’

‘Then what?’

‘I can’t talk about it on the
phone. Can I come around at say ten tomorrow?’

‘Yes, of course. Come and have tea.
I’ll get a cake.’

‘There’s no need. I’ll see you
then.’

The phone lay in my hand. I stared
down at it as though answers lay in there in the infinite configuration of
numbers, just as long as you could find the right combination. As I sat there,
my heart still jumping, it rang again.
Stephen
.

‘Hoped I’d catch you in,’ he said
cheerily. ‘Thought I’d pop round this evening and see how you are. If you’re
in,’ he added hastily.

‘Yes,’ I said with a palpable flood
of relief. ‘Yes, I’m home. I’d love to see you. Must I cook?’

‘No, I won’t be staying long. I’m
on my way elsewhere. Just thought I’d stop by.’

I didn’t miss a beat. ‘Of course.
Great. See you then.’

The phone flicked blank in my hand.
On his way elsewhere
. What did that mean? I was to be shoved in between
dates? Why hadn’t I lied and said I would be out? Why should I fit into his
agenda as though I had nothing else to do? He would arrive, disturb me, and
leave. How stupid was that? It bordered on humiliating.

I fumed, pondering. Had to play
this the only way I knew how – with feminine guile. I looked at my watch. I had
two hours.

I whipped into the kitchen and put together cheese puffs and some egg
mayonnaise sandwiches which I knew he loved. I shoved the puffs into the oven
and raced around the living room tidying and dusting. The scent of lavender
drifted. I put a bottle of white wine in the fridge to chill and placed a
bottle of red that I knew he liked in prominent view. Lit a fat candle on the
coffee table. Then I flew to the shower and washed my hair. I took care with
makeup. Normally I tended to use very little but tonight I wanted to look more
sophisticated. I studied my face in the mirror. I’m all eyes, I thought. Large,
dark, round and tipped at the corners giving me a cat-like look. My nose was a
little too tilted for my liking but my lips were a full Clara Bow. I applied a
spun-pink lipstick with a dab of gloss. There.
Take that!

I dressed in jeans and stayed
barefoot. I wanted a casual but chic look. I chose a white lace-knit top with a
decorative hood. I swung my dark hair up into a slightly messy chignon. There.
Take
that!

Two bells went off at the same
time. The oven and the front door.

I raced for the oven and switched it
off. Then I swung open the door.

It was Mr Corbett.

‘Oh!’ he said as a sort of apology,
eyeing my perfectly presented pose with a mixture of embarrassment and
admiration. His eyes flicked to the candle on the coffee table. ‘I’m sorry to
disturb you, Miss Blaydon, but I have a letter for you. I had to sign for it as
you were out. Should have given it to you this morning but in the – the
fuss
,
I overlooked it. Sorry for the inconvenience.’

‘That’s all right. Thank you.’

‘And could you just sign this for
me? Thank you.’ He gave me a slight bow. ‘You look very beautiful,’ he said, flushing
bright red to his ears.

I laughed. ‘Thank you, Mr Corbett.
You’re a darling!’

Still flame-red, he turned away and
I closed the door. I ripped the letter open. A summons to court. To the hearing
on Willy Bunting’s death. Galina’s death. And Matthew Bunting’s death. All the
terror of that one night up again for inspection in the harsh light of legal
procedure.

I stood a moment in shock. I knew
this had been coming. But even so my breathing slowed. I would have to see
Brent Sedgeworth. And – the thought held – Jake Adler.

Moving woodenly, I slipped the letter into a drawer. The date was set for three
months away. I would have time to prepare, seek legal counsel, apply for leave.
To get used to the fact that I would have to make statements under the
dispassionate gaze of a judge and Brent Sedgeworth.

It would be all right. I had the
truth. It was all I needed. It was all I had.

Stephen arrived at 6.30pm. So exactly on time that I wondered if he had
wandered around outside before coming up. He was sharply dressed in grey
trousers, a deep maroon shirt and dark grey jacket, no tie. He stood, hands in
pockets, surveying me with an odd look in his eyes.

‘You look terrific,’ he said. ‘Are
you going somewhere?’

I curled on the couch, looking
casual. ‘Just taking some time to chill.’

He sat opposite me, eyeing the tray
of sandwiches and cheese puffs. ‘Are these for me?’

‘I know you like them.’

He spotted the wine. ‘Ah, now
you’ve got me. Is that Regis?’

‘You want a glass?’

He grinned. All the soft, warm humour
that I loved, green eyes glinting in the candle glow. ‘You shouldn’t have to
ask.’

I handed him the bottle to open. He
did the manly thing and we sat, the deep blood dark liquid gleaming richly in
our glasses. It was an old scene, a comforting scene run through with a
tangible sense of loss.

I found my voice. Told him about
the hearing coming up.

‘That’s not going to be easy,’ he
remarked, rather pointlessly I thought.

I couldn’t ask him if he would come
with me, hold my hand. That would be stupid. Yet it was the only thing I wanted
to hear from him.

I watched him eat three cheese
puffs and a sandwich. I asked, ‘So where are you off to this evening?’

He looked awkward. ‘It’s
Catherine’s mother’s birthday. I’ve been invited.’

Ah. So they were at the parent
thing already.

‘That’s nice. Have you met her
parents before?’

‘Only once. At some do at the
college.’

‘How nice.’

He shifted. ‘Casey – I just need to
explain that she invited me as her partner and I said yes.’

‘You don’t have to explain to me.’

‘No, I suppose not. But you know,
somehow I feel I do. I just want you to know that there’s nothing serious
between us.’

‘Between who?’

Pause.

‘Catherine and myself.’

‘That’s not what I hear.’ I could
have bitten my tongue.

‘What do you mean?’

I swallowed. Tried to think of
something evasive. And then suddenly I didn’t care.

‘Todd says you’re very tight.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Todd? What hell
has anything got to do with Todd?’

‘Well, he’s your friend. So I would
imagine he would know.’

‘He knows fuck all!’

‘Well, I’m just saying what he said
– ’

Stephen sat up, whip-sharp. ‘Has he
been here?’

I felt the floor had fallen away.
Lies and the truth slipped from side to side. I had no balance. ‘Yes,’ I
whispered.

Something in my tone must have told
him something. His look became a freeze of anger and concern. ‘On his own?’

Pause. ‘Yes.’

Stephen slid to the edge of the
couch, his eyes fixed on mine. ‘Is he making a nuisance of himself?’

‘Sort of. Not really. A bit. I
mean, he means well. He thinks he’s protecting me from Brent Sedgeworth.’

Stephen’s eyes darkened with rage –
and an emotion I couldn’t quite place. It looked as though every muscle in his
body had gone rigid.

‘I’ll fucking kill that bastard!’

I was bewildered. Was this
jealousy? Some twisted sense of antiquated male ownership? He could have what
he wanted but I wasn’t allowed anything at all. A kind of reciprocal anger
flashed in me.

‘He means well, Stephen. I should think
you would be pleased someone was looking out for me.’

The implication was clear. And well
read. ‘You can always call on me, Casey,’ he said in some frustration. ‘You
know that. I’ve told you a hundred times.’

‘I can’t bother you while you’re
with Christina.’

Pause.

‘Catherine.’

‘Yes. I can’t lumber about in your
background, Stephen. Imagine the trouble that would cause.’

‘Catherine wouldn’t worry at all. I
told
you – we’re not dating, we’re just friends.’

‘But you’re having dinner with her
parents.’

He just looked at me for a long
moment, something close to tears in his eyes. ‘It’s casual,’ he said at last.
‘And a good meal up for free.’

‘You think a woman invites you to
dinner with her parents on a
casual
basis? Wake up and smell the stuffing,
Stephen! She has you primed for the oven.’

He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘That’s
just crap. You don’t know Catherine.’

‘Then maybe we should meet.’

He stared a moment. ‘What would be
the point of that?’

He was right. What would be the
point? I felt stupid and helpless. I wanted nothing more than he should say the
words I wanted to hear. Wanted nothing more than to say the words pricking at
my tongue. And now we were both so annoyed, neither would say anything.

Eyes on me, he took a long swig of
the wine. He put down his empty glass and surveyed the last of the egg
sandwiches. Then he said: ‘I don’t want you seeing Todd Pennington.’

I almost laughed. ‘It’s got nothing
to do with you who I see.’

Silence. This truth hung bright as crystal
in the room. And who
he
might decide to see had nothing to do with me
either. It was bizarre. Here we were, riling each other for no particular
purpose, filled with anger about things that should no longer have relevance
for either of us. Why had he come? Why had I dressed with such care?

‘Stephen – ’

‘No, Casey – ’ He held up a hand in
apology. ‘No, you’re right. You can see who you like. Really. I understand. But
I have a problem with Todd.’

Disappoint sank like a cold stone
in my stomach.
I could see who I liked
.

‘What’s wrong with Todd?’

He hesitated, clearly
uncomfortable. ‘Look, Todd’s my friend, okay? And he’s a good friend as guys
go. But Todd has a history of violence. And a bad, bad reputation with women.
He’s just not right for you.’

He was right of course. Didn’t have
to be Einstein to read Todd as a bad news guy. But the thing was: if Stephen
cared enough about my welfare to order me away from Todd, why didn’t he just
come back to me? Why this long-distance care management? Stubbornness rose, that
old pig-headed monster.

‘Well, I like him.’ I felt my
cheeks go red. Would he notice in the candlelight?

Stephen studied me. He knew me too
well. ‘No, you don’t.’