Untouchable Things (34 page)

“I’m so sorry…”

“Get out.”

He heard Bridget leave the room, clip downstairs in her ludicrous shoes.

“And you.” He couldn’t look at Seth in case he lost control again.

“Of course.” It was as if he’d just asked him to pass the salt. Charles dug his nails into his palms. “I’ll come back later and we can sort…”

“I’ll give you half an hour to get your stuff out.”

He heard Seth stop in his tracks. “What? You can’t throw me out. Come on, Charlie boy, she threw herself at me, what’s a man to do? Tell you what, I’ll crash somewhere tonight…”

“I mean it.” Charles pivoted round to face him with flint eyes. “If I see you here again, I’ll kill you.”

You threatened to kill Mr Gardner?

Well, I may well have said that in the heat of the moment but obviously I didn’t really mean it. I just wanted to get him out. For all his… idiosyncrasies, Seth’s my friend.

Scene 7

I’m sure you appreciate the importance of detail here, Mr Sanchez. We’ve received differing accounts of this evening and we need you to make sure you remember as accurately as possible.

I’ll try.

It feels as though they are in competition as they comb through the flat, on a treasure hunt, trying to be the first to spot the clues. It feels as if they are watching each other without showing it. Or maybe it’s just him. Ever since he told them about Seth’s nightmare he seems to feel eyes on the back of his head.

He’s barely eaten all day and he feels shaky. Shaky on the inside, like his heart, his lungs, his blood vessels are all trembling. What are they doing here, rooting through Seth’s flat? Each time Anna avoids his eye the shaking gets worse. She thinks he’s been keeping things from her, can’t bear to feel excluded. He can’t bear the separation from her.

He wants to be the one to find something. He owes Seth that much. Just for once he would like to be the hero, to see the gratitude in Seth’s eyes and the admiration in Anna’s.

At the same time he’s scared of what he might find.
Shake shake shake.

We divided up the flat.

Anna is looking through a wardrobe where shirts and jackets are lined up and all the coat hangers face the same way. Michael is going through drawers, finding tidy folded piles of black Paul Smith boxer shorts. José focuses on the other wardrobe trying to remember any jumpers or casual shirts that aren’t here. There isn’t much talking. Anna directs all her observations towards Michael, who tries to include José in his response. It reminds him of fallings-out at school.

They have left Charles and Catherine searching the study while Rebecca checks the drawing room. Jake is supposed to be doing the kitchen but the smell of toast suggests he’s found something else to occupy him.

Animated talking from the study prompts them to stop what they are doing, listen. Anna abandons ship first. José and Michael look at each other for a second and then follow. Rebecca enters from the drawing room. Catherine is in the study shaking her head.

“I’m positive it was here.”

Anna looks at Michael. “The laptop isn’t here. Catherine thinks it was here the other day.”

People make token search efforts, wandering aimlessly round the room looking behind curtains as if it’s a game of hide and seek.

“No, it was right here on the desk – I’m sure. He always keeps it here.”

They look at the desk, empty apart from a small, tidy pile of papers on the back right corner.

Michael frowns. “Are you sure, Catherine? I mean, we didn’t go into the study the other day, did we?”

She bites her lip. “No, but the door was open and I’m sure I saw the laptop on the way back from the bathroom.”

“Maybe you’re getting it mixed up with another time.”

She opens and closes her mouth like a fish.

“Well, if it has been moved it was either Seth – or you, of course. No one else has keys.” Only Anna would put it quite so bluntly.

Catherine scowls. “Well, it wasn’t me. Why would I draw attention to it then?”

In the silence they listen to plates clattering in the kitchen. Jake sticks his head round the door.

“Anyone fancy a Scooby snack? You wouldn’t believe what I found in Seth’s freezer.” He looks at their faces. “Right. I take it no one’s hungry, then.”

“Catherine thinks Seth’s laptop’s been taken. Since we were last here.”

“Well, he’s probably taken it with him, wherever he’s gone.”

Catherine slaps her hand down on the desk. “No, I’m sure it was here last week.”

Jake narrows his eyes. “Sat down and did some work on it, did you? No?”

José looks from one to the other. Anna has always thought Catherine and Jake can’t stand each other.

“Is it possible you’re mixing it up with another time?” Charles turns to Catherine, who now has tears in her eyes.

“I suppose so. I just think there’s more to it. Maybe we should tell the police.”

“For God’s sake.” Jake glares at Catherine and José feels sorry for her. “Think about it. They’d just conclude that Seth has popped back home and strike him off their to-do list.”

Light dawns on Anna’s face. “Jake’s right. They were already completely disinterested when I spoke to them yesterday. We don’t want to make things worse.”

Charles coughs, hand in pockets. “Uninterested.”

“What?”

“One of Seth’s little hobby horses. He was always putting people right on it.”

There’s a short silence. “Let’s carry on for now, see what we find.” For all of Michael’s abruptness José can tell he’s worried. People murmur agreement, get to their feet.

“Oh, there’s one other thing I thought.” Jake is leaning on the doorframe, feet crossed.

“Shouldn’t we all have keys to the flat? It doesn’t seem right that just one person has them. And if we all pop in and out we can keep an eye on things.” Catherine shrinks under his gaze and says she’ll get them cut tomorrow. There’s some sort of agenda between those two that he doesn’t understand.

“Right, back to work. Don’t know about anyone else but I’m finding all sorts of exciting things. Come into the kitchen if you get peckish.” Jake winks as he leaves the room. José feels an odd shiver run over his shoulders. Jake’s probably trying to lighten things up but still it feels weird that he’s just helping himself to what he wants and making a joke out of everything. Normally he’d say something to Anna. His eyes swivel over to her, but if she senses them she doesn’t respond.

Back in the bedroom he finds a big box of green folders tucked away at the back of the wardrobe. As he looks at it, hesitating, Anna comes over and grabs the top folder. He and Michael watch her for a minute, furiously flicking through handwritten sheets of paper. If this was his moment, Anna’s whipped it away from under his nose.

“Academic notes of some sort – poetry, I think.”

She rifles through the other folders, all arms and intent, an industrious spider. He, the stunned insect, waits for her verdict. “They all seem to be on the same topic – metaphysical poetry or something. Isn’t all poetry metaphysical?”

He shrugs and they call in Charles and Rebecca. Anna has found what looks like a draft thesis, typed up in a seriously dated font with scribbles all over it.

“Presumably he did a PhD?”

Charles looks flustered for the first time. “I don’t actually know. We lost touch straight after undergrad, remember. He was always a bit vague about those years.”

She holds the document closer. “Look, there’s a tutor’s name here – Dr R Cuddly. Cuddly – is that for real?”

They peep over her shoulder. Anna picks up her notebook and writes Dr R Cuddly.

“Seth never called himself Doctor, did he?”

They flick through some more papers and Michael points.

“Look at that. It says Seth Basildon, not Gardner.”

“What?”

“Yes, he did change his name.” They all stare at Charles. “When we got back in touch he said he’d decided to take his mother’s name. I’d forgotten all about it until now.”

Anna writes Seth Basildon and underlines it.

What strikes them is how little personal stuff there is in the flat. No photos from childhood, adolescent scribblings, nothing to mark his parents’ existence at all. Michael finds a folder of ideas about
Hamlet
, which Rebecca says she’d like to read some time. She goes round and round the flat looking under furniture, behind plant pots. José sees her slipping a book into her bag.

“What’s that?”

She pulls it out, pink under her freckles.

“Just some of the metaphysical poets. I thought it might be interesting to reread them if Seth took such an interest in them.” There’s a brief silence and Rebecca puts the book back in her bag.

“He said he’d lend it to me anyway.” Her voice falters slightly. José looks away.

Later he finds Anna in the bedroom, still digging her way through the box of green folders. Most of the others are there, sitting on the floor watching her, not sure what to do next. Jake has gone home with a final shake of his head.

Anna sits up a bit straighter.

“What is it?”

She flips over a piece of paper in her hand. “I don’t… know.” Her words crawl out. “What do you think?”

José leans in with everyone else. The page is titled
The Saturday Group
in Seth’s loopy handwriting. Underneath, a subtitle:
Betrayal
. Below that a list of names.

A jolt. “Tell me I’m wrong, but this looks a whole lot like another Friday Folly to me.” It makes him feel weird.

“Hey, so he set up a group like this before. Big deal.” He knows Anna’s feeling weird about it too.

“Look – one name’s asterisked.”

Michael straightens up. “Yes, and flip over to see why.”

Overleaf, the twin asterisk and a scribble:
wind her up and watch her go!

José stares. “Poor old Bridget Larson.”

“What?” Charles’ hand shoots out and takes the paper. His face changes colour twice.

“What is it?”

Charles backs away, letting the paper zigzag down to the floor. He holds the wardrobe handle as if for support.

“Charles? Do you know her?”

He is staring at the paper on the floor. “I did. Once. Just getting a glass of water.”

They frown and shrug at each other as the tap in the kitchen splutters on. José mouths that he will go. He finds Charles leaning over the sink staring out of the window.

“Are you okay, mate?” He’s never sure when the use of ‘mate’ is appropriate. Charles smiles sort of sadly at him; he’s got it wrong.

“I’m fine. Just needed a breather.”

José doesn’t know which words to throw into the silence. Charles has turned back to the window.

“Look, m – Charles, I don’t want to hassle you but – well, if you go back into that room you’ll get the third degree. If it would be easier to tell one person, we could go sit on the sofa.”

“Or I could always go home and not tell anyone.” There’s an unfamiliar spike in Charles’ voice. “Or is that not an option?”

“Of course it’s an option. I just think that – if there’s anything at all that might help us understand things better it would be good to know.”

It is painful watching Charles tell his account of Seth’s betrayal. To José’s annoyance, Anna appears in the doorway to listen and the others follow behind her. Charles doesn’t look at them but neither does he stop talking; he addresses the rubber plant in the corner. His voice is monotone but his hands jerk and twitch. He says they were young, that Seth was sorry, that it was one of those things. Looking at his hunched figure, José has no doubt that it is one of the worst things that has ever happened to him.

When he finishes talking, José reaches out and squeezes his arm, ignoring the ridiculous chorus in the corner, which has sat down in a huddle, trying to be unobtrusive. He wants to wave them away like an irritated stage director. But they get up and begin to disperse and he loses his chance to give Charles some quiet support.

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised.” Michael’s hands are jammed into his pockets, his mouth a narrow slit.

“It’s amazing that you forgave him.” Rebecca’s voice is warm. Catherine nods and looks shell-shocked.

Anna cuts through, briskly. “So he clearly stayed in contact with this woman – Bridget.”

Charles flinches and José wants to shake her. “When I first saw him in London – when we sorted things out – he told me it was a one-off. But, yes, it looks like they stayed in touch.”

“So they could be in touch now.” Anna is in full-on detective mode, with all the bedside manner. She appeals to the silent room. “Come on, guys, it’s obvious we have to try to track her down. What other leads do we have? Now, I guess we could try the university?”

“I have her parents’ number.” Charles looks directly at Anna for the first time and she blinks. “I still have my college address book.”

“Great.”

“I knew her parents quite well. I think they rather hoped we’d settle down together.” For the first time, his face flashes pain, and this time even Anna softens her voice.

“I’m sorry.” She makes two steps towards him and touches his arm. “How would you feel about calling them?”

Scene 8

There’s a very long pause when Charles announces himself. He can’t help stuttering.

“We were friends at Cambridge, I met…”

“I know who you are. I’m just wondering why you’re ringing.”

Charles can’t account for the hostility in the other man’s voice. He’s waited till two o’clock so he knows they’ll have been to church and finished their lunch. “I – I just wondered if you could give me Bridget’s number. I wanted to say hello and – talk to her about something.”

He hears a muffled snort. “After – let’s see, fifteen years – you want to talk to her about something.”

Charles doesn’t know what to say. “If it’s a problem…”

“Look, give me your number and I’ll get my wife to call you. She’s better at this sort of thing.”

Mrs Larson phones back half an hour later. She sounds breathy and friendly, like she always did.

“I’m sorry if David was a bit short with you, Charles. He’s been under quite a bit of pressure recently. We all have. I’m afraid Bridget isn’t too well.”