‘Mmm. That’s classic Jenny,’ Bridie muttered.
Craig swiped to the next image. ‘Oh, and this is at her thirtieth birthday party. I caught her flirting with this old giffer from my angling club in our kitchen. Can you believe the audacity of that bitch?’ He smiled fondly at the photo. ‘God, she was beautiful.’
And to think Bridie had believed this date might actually turn out to be tolerable…
She roused herself from her semi-catatonia. ‘Craig, look. You’ve talked about nothing but Jenny all night. I agree, she sounds like a nightmare and you’re well out of it. Now can we please talk about something else?’
He blinked. ‘All right. What do you want to talk about then?’
‘Well… OK, what sort of films do you like?’
‘Films?’
‘Yeah, you know, films. Moving pictures. They’ve been around for a while now. People sometimes like to talk about them on dates.’
He looked blank for a moment. ‘I like The Godfather trilogy.’
Bridie exhaled with relief. ‘Right, great. Me too. Although I always thought Part III was—’
‘You know that when me and Jenny got together, she’d never even seen them? I mean, how do you get to twenty-seven without seeing The Godfather? Unbelievable.’ Craig laughed. ‘Then when I finally got her to watch the first one with me, she fell asleep halfway through. All she ever wanted to watch were stupid soppy romcoms and reality shows. That should’ve rung alarm bells, I guess, but I was blind then. Thank God my eyes have been opened, right?’
‘Right.’ Bridie drained her remaining beer in one go, even though there was still half a bottle left. ‘Oh look, I finished my drink. Would you mind?’
‘Sure,’ Craig said, blinking at her empty bottle. ‘Wow, that was fast work. You’re not a drunk, are you?’
‘Not as a rule, but I’m always happy to explore new experiences.’
‘You know, when Jenny had had one too many she always used to—’
‘Craig, please. I’m gasping here.’
Craig looked bemused. ‘OK. I’ll be back in five then.’
As soon as he’d disappeared into the kitchen, Bridie grabbed her bag and made a beeline for the French doors that led out onto the veranda. She closed the blinds to shield herself from view before heading outside.
‘Oh. Hi.’ A man dressed as Batman was leaning on the balustrade, looking out over the sea. ‘Sorry. I didn’t realise there was anyone else out here.’
‘I don’t mind a bit of company.’ The man seemed to be wearing some sort of voice changer. It made his voice sound all deep and gravelly – just like the real Batman, if the real Batman had had a North Yorkshire accent. ‘Who’re you hiding from?’
‘My date. He’s got some very complex feelings towards his ex-wife that he wants to work through and I’m buggered if he’s going to do it with me. How about you?’
‘I just fancied a timeout.’ He turned back to look at the reflection of the Milky Way being mangled by the waves. ‘It’s not a bad view, is it?’
‘Nothing like it in the world.’ Bridie went to stand by him and inhaled a lungful of salt sea air. ‘That’s better. I was starting to feel seriously claustrophobic in there.’
‘Well, you’re safe now.’ He glanced at her empty hands. ‘But you haven’t got a drink. You want me to fetch you one? I won’t tell your date where you’re hiding, I promise.’
She smiled. ‘Cross your heart?’
‘Batman’s honour,’ he said, solemnly holding up three gloved fingers.
Bridie tried to place the real voice behind the robotic echo of the changer, but she couldn’t match it to anyone she knew. The man was disguising his tones naturally too, she was sure: making them deeper and throatier before they even reached the electronic device built into his mask. Evidently this was someone taking the masquerade theme far too seriously.
‘Yeah, all right,’ she said. ‘Cheers.’
He disappeared inside. Bridie let out a deep sigh as she gazed out over the ocean, feeling the tension that had crept into her body while she was with Craig slowly dissipate. Five minutes later the Batman guy was back, clutching a couple of bottles of beer.
‘OK, you can feel free to go back in whenever you get chilly,’ he said, handing her one. ‘Your date isn’t there to bother you any more.’
She frowned. ‘What?’
‘You were here with the Shrek lad, right?’
‘Yeah, why?’
‘I told him you’d had a sudden attack of hereditary scrofula and had to go home. He didn’t seem too bothered, to be honest. He’s leaving now.’
‘Huh. Probably off to key his ex-wife’s car and leave a dozen roses on the back seat.’ She clinked her beer bottle against his. ‘Thanks, mate.’
‘Hey, that’s what us heroes do: rescue damsels in distress.’
‘Not the hero Messington needs but the hero Messington deserves. Yep, I can see that being you.’ She squinted up at him, trying to identify the jawline. ‘I know you, don’t I?’
‘You tell me.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘I can’t reveal that information, I’m afraid. First rule of Superhero Club: no giving away your secret identity.’
‘Ah, go on.’
‘Just call me Bruce.’ He glanced at her Catwoman outfit. ‘Looks like we were destined to meet tonight, eh, Selina?’
‘Well, it’s just Bridie for short.’ She shook his glove. ‘Nice to know you, Bruce.’
‘So who do you know here then?’ Bruce asked her.
She peered through a slit in the blinds at the now swinging party. Cal and Hattie seemed to have morphed into a single entity while they enjoyed a slow dance. Ben had lifted the bottom part of his Spider-Man mask and was sucking face with Meg, whose dream of being the next notch on his bedpost was obviously about to come true.
‘He could at least have done it hanging upside down, for the sake of authenticity,’ Bridie muttered to herself.
‘Sorry?’
‘Hm? Oh.’ She turned back to Bruce. ‘I know the birthday girl and her boyfriend pretty well.’
‘You know Cal, do you?’
‘Yeah, we were at school together. His girlfriend’s my housemate. I was the one who introduced them actually.’ She glanced up at him. ‘How do you know him?’
‘We’ve got a few friends in common.’
She nodded to Ben and Meg snogging. ‘What about his brother, do you know him?’
‘Not really. Are they alike?’
Bridie snorted. ‘Luckily for Hattie, thankfully not.’
‘Oh? Why do you say that?’
Bruce actually sounded more like Lego Batman than Batman Batman, Bridie decided. Extra gravelly. It was pretty sexy.
‘God, Ben’s just such an arse,’ she told him. ‘I don’t know how he manages it given his severe personality defects, but he only needs to look at a woman and her knickers seem to fall off. And there’s no sign he might start giving it a rest as he creeps towards thirty. He’s going to end up being one of those sad middle-aged men with Peter Stringfellow haircuts who prop up the bar in seedy pubs, thinking they have a shot with girls half their age.’
‘The woman he’s with seems to like him,’ Bruce said, glancing over his shoulder at Meg acquainting herself with Ben’s tonsils.
Bridie shrugged. ‘Meg knows he’s a good bet for a one-night stand. All the girls round here know that if you want an evening of no-strings-attached fun, Ben Kemp’s your man. Messington women might get their kicks with him, but you’d never find one mad enough to actually date him.’
He turned back to look at her. ‘You don’t think so?’
‘Nah. Ben’s a cut-rate gigolo, that’s all: decent body but not much going on in the personality department other than a good line in brag and swagger. More importantly, he never says no. He’s a human vibrator, basically – that’s how the local girls see him. I swear, a nice dose of the clap would do his vanity no end of good.’
�
��Bloody hell,’ Bruce muttered. ‘I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side, love.’
She shrugged. ‘Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.’
Bruce was silent for a moment, watching Ben nuzzle into Meg’s neck through the glass door.
‘I take it you’re not one of this Ben’s many conquests then,’ he said at last.
‘Are you kidding?’ Bridie sent a black look in Ben’s direction. ‘We did have a bit of a thing going on, back in school when I was too young to know any better. That was before I knew what he was really like. Honestly, I’d shag anyone before that guy.’
‘What sort of a thing?’
‘Oh, we…’ She looked up at him, frowning. ‘Why am I telling you all this? I never even met you before tonight.’
‘Well, I’m the Dark Knight, aren’t I? Protector of the innocent, champion of the weak. I’m inherently trustworthy.’
She squinted at him. ‘Turn that voice changer thingy off. Let me hear your real voice.’
‘Can’t do that. Told you, I’ve got a secret identity to protect. I’d be drummed out of the Justice League.’
‘All right, have it your way, Man of Mystery. I’ll find it out at the unmasking anyway.’ She turned back to look at the softly plashing ocean. ‘Perhaps Ben did mean something to me once. I thought he did at eighteen, at least. We used to mess about a bit, just as friends, but then he asked me to our big leaving ball after exams had finished and I thought… I suppose I thought that’d be our first proper date. I was all set to lose my virginity to him that night. Then when I got to the ball… no sign of him.’ She blinked hard. ‘Can you believe that? The man who never says no didn’t want me. That seemed to set a template for my relationships ever after. My entire love life has been an unmitigated disaster from that day forward.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Bruce said, and his voice sounded softer under the gravelly Batman tones. ‘Still, if this bloke’s as much of a tool as you say, it sounds like you had a lucky escape.’
‘I know. It hurt like hell at the time though. That first broken heart.’
‘Seriously, he broke your heart?’
‘That’s how it felt when I was a kid.’ She shrugged. ‘I should probably be grateful. Ben taught me to be wary. I know better now.’
‘Did he ever tell you why he stood you up?’
‘He never mentioned it again, not once in ten years. I suppose he ditched me for a better offer.’
‘I don’t believe that.’
‘Well, I can’t think of any other reason he’d turn down sex. That was always his favourite hobby.’
‘Maybe he was nervous.’
She laughed. ‘Ben? You really don’t know him, do you?’
‘No.’ He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. ‘But I do know that if I was an eighteen-year-old boy about to go to bed with a girl who looked like you, I’d be scared to death.’
‘Why?’
He glanced down her body. ‘Why do you think? Because you’re bloody gorgeous. That’s kind of intimidating when you’re that age.’
Gorgeous… did he really think that?
She shook her head. ‘Not for Ben.’
‘Well, I can’t speak for Ben.’ He drew a gloved finger down her cheek. ‘I can only speak for me. And what I think is that you’re the best-looking girl at this party.’
That jawline… it did look familiar. Had she met Bruce before tonight? She felt fuzzy-headed from the beer she’d drunk and lulled by his soft words and the gentle sound of the waves, but she was sure that behind the voice changer there was something… a tone, a trick of speech. Where did she know it from? She felt like she was in a dream, and something she knew, or ought to know, was hovering just out of her reach.
‘Are you sure we haven’t met before?’ she whispered as Bruce brought his face closer to hers, his fingers resting on her cheek.
‘You tell me.’ He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, and Bridie, in a pleasant haze of alcohol and ocean and Batman, let her eyes close as she returned it.
‘Well?’ Bruce said quietly when he drew back. ‘Have we met before, Bridie?’
‘I… I’m not sure.’
She looked up into the eyes that glittered from behind his cowl. They were a deep, compelling brown, sort of laughing and sad both at the same time. She did know them. She knew them from somewhere in… in the past? Knew them well, so well…
God, she really shouldn’t have had that last drink. She held on tightly to Bruce’s thick arms around her, feeling suddenly dizzy.
‘Who are you?’ she whispered.
‘You genuinely don’t know?’
‘No. Tell me.’
The sound of people singing ‘Happy Birthday’ echoed out to them from inside the house, and Bruce jerked straight.
‘Shit! Bridie, what time is it?’
‘Um, just after ten, I think. Why?’
‘Oh shit! Shit shit shit! Sorry, love, I have to go.’
‘Er, hey,’ Bridie said, blinking dazedly. ‘Can I… do you want to maybe swap numbers or something?’
‘Not right now. Later. I have to be somewhere.’ Without another word, he darted back into the house.
Seven
When Ben got back inside, Cal had already begun slicing Hattie’s birthday cake and was looking panicked.
‘There you are,’ he hissed when his brother joined him. ‘Where the hell have you been?’
‘Sorry, I got distracted.’
‘Ben, seriously, could you stop chasing muff for five bloody minutes and do your only brother the one favour he’s asked you for in his life?’
‘Sure. Sure. Look, I’m here now, aren’t I?’
‘Will you turn that voice thing off please? You sound like you’ve got a thirty-a-day fag habit.’
‘All right, fine.’ Ben reached up to switch off the voice changer built into his mask.
Only half a cake now remained unsliced. Ben glanced at the identical pieces arranged on paper plates. ‘Which one of these is third-from-top-clockwise then?’
‘This one,’ Cal muttered, jerking his head towards it.
‘This one?’ Ben asked, pointing.
‘No, not that one. The one next to it.’ He elbowed Ben as he reached for the neighbouring slice. ‘Not that side, the other side.’
‘This one?’ Ben picked up the slice and squinted at it for any sign of an engagement ring nestling in the sponge.
‘Yeah, that’s it. I think.’
‘You think?’
‘I’m… ninety-six per cent sure it’s that one.’ Cal groaned. ‘Oh God. It’s jinxed, isn’t it? The whole thing’s bloody jinxed.’
‘It’s not jinxed. Although a slightly less elaborate proposal after the beer’s been flowing all night might’ve been advisable.’
‘Look, I’m trying to be romantic here. I’m only doing this once in my life and I want to make it an occasion to remember. Where’ve you been anyway?’
‘I went outside for some air.’ Ben turned to face him, still holding the slice of cake. ‘Cal, do you reckon the birds round here think I’m just some shallow cut-price gigolo who’s only good for one-night stands?’
‘Well yeah, probably. Not sure why that revelation should shock you. Who’ve you been talking to?’
‘Bridie.’
Cal raised his eyebrows. ‘She said that to you? That’s a bit harsh, even by her standards.’
‘She didn’t know she was talking to me. Well, she might’ve. I can’t work out if she did and was just trying to wind me up by playing dumb while she slagged me off or if she genuinely had no idea.’ He frowned. ‘But then if she did know, why would she have told me… and why would she have let me…’ He stared thoughtfully at the cake for a second. ‘She said some stuff, Cal – stuff I wish I’d known before. About me and her at school.’
‘Look, do we have to do this now?’ Cal whispered. ‘I’m about to propose here, I’ve got my own worries. Just hand out the cake while I give my speech, can you? We’ll tal
k about your problems later.’
‘Right.’ Ben picked up another slice of cake and went to hand it to someone in the assembled crowd, keeping the special Hattie piece carefully in his left hand.
‘Here you go.’ He approached the bloke dressed as Spider-Man and handed him a paper plate. ‘No, hang on. Not that one. You have this one.’
Spider-Man blinked as Ben swapped the cake he was holding for the one in his right hand. ‘But they’re all the same, aren’t they?’
‘I’m keeping the thinner slice back for myself. Er, watching my figure,’ Ben said, patting the rubber abs of his Batman suit. ‘You know how it is, right? Not much left to the imagination by the uniforms in our line of work.’
The guy stared blankly at him, seemingly having forgotten that he was currently dressed entirely in spandex. Ben shot him a weak grin and went to grab more cake.
Cal banged a fork against the side of his beer bottle for attention and the room fell silent, everyone turning towards him.
‘Er, hi folks,’ he said, smiling bashfully. ‘I just wanted to say thank you all for coming to Hattie’s party, which Dafydd and Sandra have been kind enough to host, and, um, I hope you enjoy this birthday cake that I baked with my own fair hands.’ He glanced at his girlfriend. ‘Especially you, Hat. Because I think if you look carefully, you’ll find a very special ingredient in your slice.’
She blinked. ‘OK. It’s not one of those hash cakes, is it?’
Cal nodded to the slice of cake Ben had darted forward to hand her. ‘Take a look for yourself.’
Frowning, she broke her slice in half, then in half again, until her plate was just a pile of crumbs and jam.
‘All I’m seeing is an increasingly inedible piece of Victoria sponge, Cal.’
‘You’re not looking hard enough. It’s in there, I swear.’
There was a sudden choking noise from Sandra Leonard, who’d just taken a bite of her own slice of cake. Cal’s eyes widened.
‘Shit! Ben, you’ve given her the wrong bit!’
‘Er, right. Bollocks. Bollocks!’ Ben glanced around the guests. ‘Does anyone here know the Heimlich manoeuvre?’
‘Oh God, Mum!’ Hattie darted over to her mother, who’d gone a bit purple, and started slapping her heavily on the back of her Pierrot costume.
Love at First Fight Page 6