Please Don't Stop The Music (21 page)

‘
You. Chain smoking. Something you picked up on
tour?’

‘
Among other habits.’ Zafe Rafale smiled for the first time
and I saw why he had all those fans. ‘Yeah. So. You’re a friend of
our Baz’s, I believe that now. And he ran out on you. Making a bit
of a habit of this, isn’t he? Never used to run.’ His eyes were
inward-looking now, scanning his thoughts. ‘Remember this one time,
we’d be about fourteen, fifteen. We’re at this disco effort,
school, youth club, can’t remember where. Anyway Baz had his eye on
this girl, fancied her for months, he goes up to her and says, “You
want to dance?” And this tart she eyes him up and down and kind of
sneers, you know, in his face? Then she goes, “I’m not that
desperate.” And Baz, cool as Sweden, looks at her and goes, “Nah,
but I am.” Amazing. That’s Baz. Cool.’

‘
So
what happened between then and now? Why is he so –
broken?’

Zafe
blew smoke upwards. The ceiling was almost invisible now. ‘You tell
me. I’ve gone through it all in my head, over and over; was it the
drugs, was it some girl. Tell you something, it must have been one
hell of a problem, ’cos if you’d asked me before, I’d have said
he’d sooner have eaten the tour bus than quit.’ He glanced at the
Rolex on his wrist under a rolled-up shirt cuff. ‘Look, I’ve got to
play a set in ten. Got a pen?’ From a pocket I managed to assemble
a biro and a scrap of paper. Zafe scribbled quickly, an almost
incomprehensible series of squiggles. ‘This was always where he
went when we had time off.’ He then caught hold of my arm when I
went to slip the paper back into my pocket. ‘If you find him tell
him – shit, I don’t know. Tell him I miss him. That’s
all.’

* *
*

‘
I
think it’s a seven.’ Rosie spoke more definitely than I’d heard her
speak for weeks. Since she’d had Harry her edges seemed to have
worn thin, as though she blended with things more. It made her
fuzzier, less inclined to say what she thought, as though she
distrusted even her own opinions. ‘Seven, Moor Road.’

‘
I
thought it was a nine. “Nine, Main Road”.’ I turned the paper
upside down in case a change of perspective made things
clearer.

Jason, who was watching Harry kicking nappy-free on the lawn,
piped up. ‘It’s Robin Hood’s Bay, total population twelve and four
fishing boats. It’s hardly going to be difficult, is
it?’

‘
Maybe he doesn’t want to be found.’

‘
Then he won’t be there, will he?’ Jason stooped and picked
Harry up. Rosie taped shut the box of cards she’d just filled and
removed her son from Jason’s slightly sticky grasp.

‘
I
am aware that we usually get more sense from the pig in next-door’s
field, but Jason’s right,’ she said. ‘All you can do is try. Then
maybe you’ll feel better.’

I
stared at her. ‘You’re very perky all of a sudden. Yesterday you
were half-way to having Harry adopted, today you’re like Miss Agony
Column.’

‘
Yeah, Rosie’s got a date,’ Jason supplied.
‘Wiv a
man
. Least
I’m guessing it’s a bloke, I don’t reckon our Rosie swings the same
way as you do, Jem, ’less she’s like, bi.’ He licked his lips. ‘And
if she is, can I watch?’

I
stared at Rosie. ‘I wondered about the hair and the frock. So
you’ve got yourself a date have you? You lucky cow.’

Self-consciously Rosie smoothed down the front of her pink
dress. It set off her dark curls a treat with the way they
slithered onto her silky shoulders. ‘It’s not … you know, a bit …
Snow White?’

Jason snorted. ‘Snow White? You? More like Mucky
Slush.’

Rosie gave a twirl and Harry chuckled in her arms. ‘Will you
babysit, Jem? I should be back by midnight. If I’m not, there’s
some bottles made up in the fridge.’

‘
So
there’s a chance you might – you know, sleep over?’

Rosie waggled her eyebrows at me. ‘You’re getting as bad as
Jason.’

‘
Whoa, come
on
. Look at how much experience I’ve
got over our Jem,’ Jason complained. ‘Anyhow I don’t think she’s
experienced at anything. Know wot I mean?’

I
took the proffered Harry. ‘Still not a virgin, Jase.’ Knowing that
he was trying to wind me up, to goad me into talking about
myself.

‘
Will be soon, if you don’t get cracking. You wanna borrow the
batmobile to go looking for your man tomorrow?’ He shook his car
keys in my face. ‘You can dart him through the window, crate him
up, bring him back ’ere, no questions asked. I won’t even worry
about any stains on the seats.’

‘
Saskia’s coming over to pick up this first batch of cards.’
Rosie quite rightly ignored Jason. ‘They’re all packed up and ready
to go. Right, I’m off, I’ll see you later.’

Jason and I stared at each other. ‘Your man not coming to
pick you up?’ I asked as Harry wound his chubby little fists into
my hair. ‘That’s a bit mean.’

‘
No
he – he has to work. I’m meeting him in town. Bus leaves in ten
minutes. Bye!’

Rosie strode, high-heeled and preened, off towards the stop
in the middle of the village and Jason gave me a jab in the
arm.

‘
You
know wot? I reckon this bloke ain’t on the level. “Working” my
arse, only bleeding married, in’t he?’

‘
Rosie’s not stupid, Jase.’ I headed towards the cottage. ‘And
she’s got Harry to think about. She’s not going to go shagging
around with married guys with a three-month-old baby waiting at
home, is she?’

‘
She
might,’ Jason answered, trotting alongside me. ‘If it was Harry’s
dad.’

I
stopped dead. ‘You think?’

‘
Come on, Jem, don’t tell me you’ve never wondered? Think
about it, if he’s available then why ain’t Rosie and he all cosied
up in some kinda advert-idyll?’

‘
Maybe they treasure their independence.’

‘
Wot, like I used to treasure sleeping in the back of me car
and dragging the whole of British Rail from place to place when I
was trying to get commissioned? Yeah, that’ll be right, Jem. Rosie
loves living here and working flat out for the Mistress of
Pain.’

‘
Talk of the devil …’

The
huge black 4×4 was back, parking outside the cottage with Saskia in
the passenger seat and Alex driving.

‘
Hello, Jemima. And Harry. Gosh, a bare
bottom, well, nappies are
so
expensive these days, aren’t they? Of course I
used terries for Oscar, so much kinder to the
skin.’

‘
And
so much harder on the au-pair. Hello, Saskia, Alex. No Oscar with
you today?’ I jiggled Harry on my hip, the mere presence of Saskia
made him grousy and the absence of his mother didn’t
help.

‘
He’s having a visiting day at his new school. Bless.’ Saskia
tippytoed along the path towards Jason and me. ‘We’ve just passed
Rosie at the bus stop and I must admit we were a little shocked at
her dress sense, weren’t we, darling?’ As her husband caught up
Saskia looped a hand through his arm. ‘Of course, I lost all my
baby weight within a fortnight and not everyone can be so lucky,
can they, but I do think one should dress for one’s shape.’ She
eyed me up and down. ‘Obviously you don’t agree, Jemima, but it is
important to look one’s best at all times. Now, are these the
cards? I’m surprised that Rosie can find time to go off
gallivanting when I told her I need the rest by the
weekend.’

‘
Surely you can be a
bit
flexible. I mean it’s not as if
you’re even selling them …’

Whoops.

‘
What do you mean?’ Saskia looked at me from under her
eyelashes. Her suspiciously smooth forehead did its best to
frown.

‘
They aren’t in Le Petit Lapin, are they?’ Unless you count
the fact that they’re stacked up in cardboard boxes out the back.
‘I looked.’

Saskia sighed. ‘Oh, but I
did say
I wanted these
for the Harrogate shop.’

‘
I
could have sworn Rosie said these were for Le Petit Lapin.’ I gave
Saskia my best smile.

‘
No,
darling. You’re not just the teeniest bit stressed, are you,
Jemima? Only, stress can make you forgetful at times and you do
look a little … how can I put it kindly?’

‘
Unique?’

Saskia gave a chiming little giggle which
was like tinfoil on my nerves. ‘Unkempt, sweetie. As though you’re
not taking care of yourself properly. It’s
so
important to look after yourself.
And how
are
you
doing for money, darling?’

Pride cut in and I lied. ‘Oh, I’m doing okay. Ben’s shifting
a fair bit of stuff and I’m selling well on the
internet.’

‘
That’s lovely.’ A tight smile, as though she was afraid to
grin in case her mouth split. ‘Good. Now, we are just a teensy bit
pushed for time, darlings, so we’ll take these and vamoose. Alex,
sweetie, would you put the box in the car for me?’ As her husband
hefted Rosie’s cards into the Hummer Saskia smiled sweetly at me.
‘And where’s that gorgeous Mr Davies, Jemima? I must say I’m
surprised he’s not here, you looked so close at the
opening.’

‘
You
were a lot closer.’ I smiled a saccharine smile back.

‘
Yes, well, that was business.’ Saskia fluffed her hair. ‘Do
ask him to get in touch, won’t you? I’ve a few little propositions
I’d like to put to him. Super.’ Saskia turned. ‘Alex! I’m ready
now. You can drop me off at the house before you go, I’ve a few
phone calls to make.’ She turned to wave manicured finger tips at
me. ‘Ciao, sweetie.’ Her voice lowered an octave to take her leave
of Jason. ‘Goodbye, my darling.’ He merited a kiss on the cheek.
‘And if you could let Rosie know I’ll be by sometime on Sunday for
the rest of the consignment?’

The
big black car swept away in a spray of gravel. I turned to Jason.
‘Can you smell brimstone?’

‘
I
dunno. Whatever perfume Saskia was wearing has made my nose
bleed.’

* *
*

Rosie woke me when she got in at three, wanting an update on
Harry’s evening. I suppose it was understandable, what with the
carrycot-under-the-wardrobe incident, but I suspect I might have
been a little less than understanding, being dragged out of sleep
to describe nappy contents. The discussion meant I was slightly
sleep deprived when I drove off in Jason’s car the next morning.
Robin Hood’s Bay was a tiny village clinging to a rapidly eroding
cliffside, all hanging baskets and provisions merchants, like
something out of Enid Blyton. I inched the car down to the slipway
at the bottom of the village, failing to spot any sign of Ben, his
car or any street bearing any name like ‘moor’ or ‘main’. In fact,
half of the main road had fallen into the sea a few winters ago.
Carefully I turned around, inching the car in reverse because there
wasn’t much room, and headed back up the slope again past the
hotels and guesthouses, past the old railway station and up to
where the buildings gave way to fields. I pulled into a gateway,
killed the engine and got out.

Far
below me on the beach I could hear the sound of children yelling.
The sun was brilliantly white, shadows were short and I felt my
chest burning with something, some emotion I couldn’t name. I
leaned against the car and took a deep breath, the heat and light
making everything feel slightly unreal, dreamlike, listening to the
children playing at the foot of the cliffs, and then I recognised
the feeling. It was longing.

Some deeply buried part of me wanted this.
To stand in the sun, listening to children –
my children –
play. To have a
normal, loving man to go home to, a gentle, smiling man who’d flick
his hair out of his eyes and take the baby from me. Ask me how my
day had been. Kiss my cheek and then later, in the secret night,
draw lines of flame across my body.

Ben
.

His was the face I saw, the fingers I
imagined. His was the body that stepped in to fill the gap in my
fantasies. If only I could reach him, talk to him … if only … If
only I could overcome everything I was. If I could forget all the
promises I’d made. If only
things were
different
.

I
shook my head. Sleep deprivation. That’s all it was. Tiredness and
unaccustomed driving in a car that smelled of solder and Lynx. As I
stood breathing heavily, sun reflected from something very shiny
and speared through my eyeball like a migraine. I blinked, turned
and caught sight of the road sign. Moor Road it said, with the sun
winking and gleaming off it and all but beckoning in a deliberately
provocative manner. The feeling that I’d been fooled by some stunt
on Zafe’s behalf, some way of getting rid of a troublesome groupie,
left me and was replaced by a prickle of nerves. Ben was here.
Somewhere.

My
stomach squeezed and my body turned, so used to running, to getting
out of situations before they went bad that it was an automatic
response. I was half way into the driving seat with my knuckles
white against the doorframe before I managed to tell myself that
this was just a stop-off. Just a clearing-the-air pause before I
could start again somewhere, clean slate.