by Karen Swan
‘She loves the image. She’s already spoken to Rubens about buying a print of it.’
‘Ha, I’m glad. That’s very flattering.’
‘She’s so used to being dressed up and styled, but she says you get her. No one’s ever pushed her into a log basket before.’
‘What can I say? Everyone’ll be wearing them next summer.’
Matt’s face appeared over Andrik’s shoulder. ‘Lee, I’m passing your way on my route home. Need a lift?’ He winked mischievously, so sure of his glittery-eyed charms.
‘Thanks Matt, but Bart’s booked me a car. Supposedly.’ She rolled her eyes and shared a smile with Andrik, as though it was a private joke.
‘Cancel it then,’ he shrugged, undeterred, still not getting it – the fact that she ghosted his calls and texts, had managed to avoid him most of the night . . . ‘It’s no bother for me to drop you.’
The smile died in her eyes, her voice hardening. ‘You’re sweet to offer but we’ve got some things to discuss, now that we’ve seen the spread. You know, post-production stuff.’
She watched as the snub finally registered. ‘Oh.’
‘Thanks, though. And it was lovely seeing you again. Good luck with everything. Exciting times for you ahead.’ The door wasn’t just closed, but locked. He could see that now.
Andrik turned to the actor, offering him his hand. ‘Good to meet you, Matt. Let me know if you want those tickets for Oslo.’
‘Thanks, man,’ Matt said, shaking his hand awkwardly before nodding at her and moving away down the steps, into the night and out of her orbit.
Lee felt the relief roll off her.
Andrik cleared his throat, turning around to check they were alone again. ‘Actually, Lee, while I’ve got you, Haven’s asked me to put some feelers out to see if you’d be interested in shooting the visuals for her next album?’
‘Oh . . .’
‘I don’t know if you’ve done anything like that before.’
‘Not really, no.’
‘Perhaps you could think about it? She’s desperate to work with you again. You can see she’s not the most trusting sort. She said she’d do anything to make it happen.’
Lee hesitated for a moment, a small smile slowly curving her mouth. ‘Really? . . . Anything?’
‘Yes, bye! Bye.’ Lee waved as Claudia got into her Uber. She turned back to Bart again. ‘So much for an early getaway. I told Mila I’d be back twenty minutes ago. Where is he? I feel like the bloody doorman standing out here.’
Poor Bart sighed, looking stressed as well as cold. ‘I don’t know, I’m so sorry. Let me try again.’ He pulled his phone from his pocket. ‘Perhaps the concierge sent him off to park down the street. I’ll go check – oh, hi, Veronika. Bye, Veronika. Great night. Well done.’
Lee turned to see La Blonde emerging through the hotel doors in an ivory cashmere belted coat.
She laughed at the sight of Lee’s kitten-ears hat. ‘Oh Lee, you are a riot!’
Lee stared back at her. ‘. . . Are you off?’
Veronika clasped the collar of her coat tightly around her neck. ‘Yes. Sam’s dropping me back.’
Lee felt her heart drop to her feet like a lead weight. ‘Ah. That’s . . . kind.’
‘Yikes, it’s freezing out here,’ Veronika tittered, giving a girlish shiver.
The doors opened again and Bart came back through. ‘Right, turns out he’s been sitting three houses up this entire time. He thought we were coming out the Fifty-Two exit.’ Given that the hotel was comprised of six neighbouring townhouses, it was perhaps an understandable mistake. But Lee was oblivious. Sam had been following immediately after Bart and she had seen his face change as he’d clocked her standing on the step with Veronika. She knew he knew she knew.
‘We’d better get up there then,’ she said stiffly, wrenching her gaze off him and onto Bart.
He frowned, taking in her sudden change of expression. ‘You okay?’
She nodded, knowing tears were about to shine in her eyes any moment. ‘Mmm. So cold.’ She raised a hand to the others. ‘Bye then. Great night. Happy Christmas,’ she said abruptly and she jogged down the steps before anyone could say another word.
In the car, the warmth enveloped her like a hug, making her shivering body soften and the tears fall. She was like an ice sculpture melting, her hard angles becoming indistinct and blurry. Bart climbed into the back seat beside her with a contented sigh. ‘Over and out. You slayed it, girl,’ he sighed, buckling up his seatbelt.
‘Mmm,’ she murmured, closing her eyes, pretending to be sleepy. But a moment later she felt his hand over hers, patting it, and she knew he could see the tear tracks on her cheeks, shining under the street lights. He seemed to know when the mask was slipping and she was grateful for the silence as the car swept through the quiet, cobbled streets, his hand holding hers. He knew when words were like sledgehammers, when pictures were like razor blades.
‘See you Monday,’ she said, as they pulled up outside her house, the little street prettier than ever in its winter lace.
His eyes were sad. ‘Yeah. See you, Lee. Have a good one.’
The car door closed behind her with a thunk and she climbed her steps, sliding the key into the lock and feeling a wave of exhaustion suffuse her. Her legs felt leaden, her heart like a weight. She hung her coat and hat on the rack of bentwood hooks and tiptoed upstairs. Mila was asleep on the sofa, snoring lightly, the TV still on, the iPad splayed open across her stomach.
‘Psst,’ Lee whispered, sinking into the armchair opposite and beginning to untie the ankle straps on her high shoes.
‘Huh?’ Mila stirred with a jolt. ‘What? Where am I?’
Lee smiled back at her, hoping – in vain – that her mascara hadn’t run in the car. ‘I’m back. Sorry it’s late. We couldn’t find our driver.’
‘Oh . . .’ Mila yawned and stretched. ‘What time is it?’
‘Nearly one, sorry,’ she grimaced, seeing how Mila winced. ‘But at least you get to have a lie-in in the morning and won’t be woken by a five-year-old sitting on your head.’
Mila grinned sleepily. ‘Oh yeah . . .’ she mumbled, sitting up and sliding her feet onto the floor. ‘’Bout that. Just so you know, I had a slight emergency.’
Lee stopped what she was doing. ‘What?’
‘Not here, it’s all fine,’ Mila said quickly. ‘But I realized I left my bath running.’
Lee blinked, staring at her. ‘What?’
‘I know, it’s mad. But I’d been planning on having a quick salt bath before I came over here. That spin class was evil—’
‘The point, Mils!’
‘Yeah. So anyway, I had an Amazon delivery, signed for it, then the phone went . . . Long story short, totally forgot about the bath. I mean, you know how long it takes to fill. The pressure’s shocking. Came over here . . .’ She shrugged as though the rest of the story was obvious.
‘And so . . .?’ Lee prompted uneasily.
‘And so I had to nip back there to turn it off. Luckily the overflow worked and it wasn’t too bad. Just a bit of mopping up with some towels and it was f—’
‘So, you took Jasper with you? That’s what you’re saying?’ Lee demanded, feeling a rush of fear. ‘Clearly you didn’t leave him alone and sleeping in the house.’
‘God, no!’ she protested, looking aghast. ‘It was only just after you’d gone, he was still up. I’d never leave him alone, obviously. But it was too cold to take him out on the bike and I didn’t know the combination for your lock with his seat on—’
‘Mila, what did you do?’ Lee cried. ‘Just tell me what you did with Jasper. If you didn’t leave him here and you didn’t take him with you . . .?’
‘I just dropped him in with your neighbour for a bit. I was only gone half an hour. I was as quick as a flash, promise.’
Lee’s jaw dropped open. ‘You dropped him in with Pabe? Mils, he’s ninety-two years old!’
Mila laughed. ‘Not him! The young
couple downstairs. Gus and Lenka, yes?’
Lee’s eyes widened. ‘Mils, tell me you’re joking.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I hardly know them! I don’t just ask them to look after my five-year-old child at the drop of a hat!’
‘But you said they’re so nice. And they are. They didn’t mind at all.’ Mila stared at her, looking perplexed, as if she couldn’t understand the reason for Lee’s horror. ‘Nothing bad happened. He just drew a picture while he was there. Look.’ And she held up a picture of a house with a family inside, all drawn in felt tip and neatly coloured in.
Lee threw herself back in the chair. ‘Oh my God,’ she moaned, rubbing her hands down her face. ‘I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you left my child with them.’
‘But they’re nice people.’
‘I hardly know them, Mils! Yes, they’re sweet. Does that mean I just give them my kid while I go to the shops? No!’ Her eyes were blazing, her voice fierce – all her bitterness and disappointment and anger from earlier intermingling now with fear.
Mila looked upset. ‘I’m . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that was the wrong thing to do. I thought I was doing the right thing by not taking him out in the cold.’
Lee sighed, hiding her face behind her fingers. There was no point in going on about it. Mila just didn’t get it. She wasn’t a mother; she didn’t understand that danger existed in the everyday, the commonplace, that nothing and no one could be trusted. ‘Ugh.’
There was a long, awkward silence.
She heard the rustle of clothes as Mila got up. ‘Look, he’s fast asleep. I read him a story as soon as I got back and he went straight off.’ There was a pause. ‘I’m really sorry, Lee. You know I’d never intentionally do anything to—’ Her voice cracked, a small sob of her own escaping her as Lee continued to avoid looking at her. ‘You get to bed. I’ll see myself out.’
Lee heard her sniff, her footsteps receding on the floor, the creak of the stairs as she ran down. Great! She flung herself back in the chair in angry frustration now that her friend was upset too. She knew she should call after her and tell her it was okay, that she knew she’d acted in good faith even if it was a mistake, that she didn’t want them to fall out over it. But the words wouldn’t come. Was it not enough that her big night had ended not in glory but despair? To come home to the fright of finding her son had been left with near-strangers . . . Just the thought of it made her pulse spike, her chest tighten, her stomach dive . . . If anything should happen to him. He was all she had in this world.
She listened to the sound of Mila’s footsteps in the hall, the click of the door, the gentle jangling of chains outside the window as she unlocked her bike . . .
She sighed, knowing this would be something else to have to deal with tomorrow, soothing Mila’s hurt feelings. It wasn’t like Lee didn’t know her friend had done her best. She knew perfectly well Mila loved Jasper.
Tears were streaming down her face. ‘Ugh – fuck!’ she cried, railing against herself. She was tired and emotional. She just needed today to be over.
She went downstairs and put the chains and locks on. She was throwing over the last bolt when she heard the knock and she paused, knowing her best friend could never sleep on a fight, that she’d be sobbing too. She worked her way back through all the chains and bolts again, and opened the door—
Sam blinked back at her, seeing the sheets of tears skinning her cheeks, her mascara smudged, shoulders up by her ears. His eyes tracked over her face, seeing her despair, and he stepped in, wordlessly gathering her in his arms and kissing her. Hungry, sad, desperate kisses over her mouth, her cheeks, her neck, leaving her breathless. They staggered backwards, joined, into the hall, Sam kicking the door shut. She reached back with a flailing arm as he clasped her against him, trying to find the doorway for the spare room.
He pulled back and shook his head.
‘But—’ she gasped.
He shook his head again. And without a word, he grabbed her under her arms, hoisting her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He kissed her again, walking her along the hall and up the stairs.
‘In there,’ she panted, kissing his neck and pointing towards the sofa as they passed by the kitchen/living room door.
‘No.’
‘But—’
He silenced her with another kiss, carrying her up the next flight. She pulled away as he neared Jasper’s bedroom, worried he had heard the door slam, but the bedroom door was closed.
‘You can’t stay,’ she whispered, still kissing his neck as he carried her into her bedroom. ‘He comes in in the night.’
‘I thought that was only when you had a nightmare,’ he murmured, groaning slightly as she kissed behind his ear.
She looked back at him and blinked. ‘Yes.’
His eyes locked hers, holding them fast. ‘You won’t be having any nightmares tonight.’
Chapter Twenty
They lay still, finally, their skin beaded with sweat, limbs intertwined and heavy. She rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. Her hand brushed over his skin gently, tenderly.
‘I thought . . .’ she whispered, finding she was unable to finish the sentence. Unable to say Veronika’s name.
‘I know.’ He swallowed, staying quiet for a moment. ‘You were supposed to think that.’ His hand brushed her long hair off her shoulder. ‘My great masterplan for getting through tonight.’ The words rang with a sardonic tone.
‘But why? It was cruel.’
He took a deep breath, as though steadying himself. ‘Lee, there’s the notion of seeing you, and then there’s the reality.’
She frowned, one hand plucking lightly at the hairs on his navel. ‘I don’t know what that means.’
‘It means that resolve doesn’t mean very much when you’re standing three feet away. It means that you are impossible’ – he looked back at her with burning eyes – ‘to walk away from.’
She rested her cheek on his chest, watching him. ‘I thought you didn’t want to walk away from me. Wasn’t that the whole problem? You wanted more and I didn’t.’
‘Yes. And then I didn’t.’
‘Because of what happened in the cafe?’
He hesitated. ‘Yes.’
At least he was honest, but still, the admission felt like a punch. Her brokenness repelled him. Instinctively her body curled, becoming smaller, but she felt his body stretch against her, forcing her outwards, longer again. ‘Look, I know you’re carrying something, Lee. I don’t know what it is but it’s . . . heavy for you. I can see it.’ He sighed. ‘And I wanted to be the guy that makes it all okay for you again, I really did, but when I saw . . . when I saw how it really is for you . . . I just wasn’t sure if I could do it.’ He looked at her. ‘You’ve got PTSD, right?’
The frankness of the question shocked her. This wasn’t the kind of pillow-talk she was used to.
‘I know you have,’ he said, before she could deny it, beginning to stroke her arm gently. ‘I know that eighty per cent of war correspondents come back with some form of trauma. That it’s worse for photojournalists than reporters because you’re looking, looking all the time at what’s happening.’
She realized the pads of her fingertips were pressing against his chest in a rhythmic pattern, self-soothing. ‘Well, I didn’t know any of this. How come you’re such an expert?’
‘Because after your party at the gallery, I went home and Googled you.’
She stared back at him, amazed he would even admit that. ‘I thought you were going on with Liam?’
He gave a bark of scorn. ‘Right. Like I was in any fit state to go out.’ He sighed, but she could feel the tension in his outward breath. ‘I was a mess, knowing you were with him.’ He was quiet for a moment and she splayed her hand over his chest in a silent token of apology. ‘On the other hand, I was also weirdly glad. I knew it meant he wouldn’t last.’
‘Really? Were you certain h
e wouldn’t be back here tonight?’
He pinned her with his eyes again. ‘Yes. I knew you’d done to him what you tried to do to me. The quickest way out of your life is getting in that bed.’
She arched an eyebrow. ‘That bed? How do you know the same doesn’t apply to this one?’
‘Because I know you’ve never let anyone up here. I’m the only one.’
‘You don’t know that.’
He stared at her. Still. Certain. ‘I do.’
She felt her heart accelerate, the butterflies still in her stomach even though he was here, beneath her. He seemed to see past her alibis and excuses. She looked away, unable to hold his gaze. ‘So the other day, when you kissed me?’
‘I hadn’t planned it. I just came to return your coat,’ he shrugged. ‘But when I saw you trying to explain, when I saw how hard it was for you to put words to it . . . I didn’t think I could be what you needed.’
‘So why are you here now, then?’
He was quiet for a moment. ‘Because I knew what you were thinking about me and Veronika. It was what you were supposed to be thinking.’ His fingertips pressed against her shoulder. ‘And I couldn’t stand it.’
She didn’t say anything for several moments, her heart pounding too fast, emotions surging up and threatening to burst free from her. ‘I’m not used to feeling jealous,’ she said quietly, laying her head down again, her cheek against his chest.
‘Of course not. You don’t let anyone hang around long enough for you to actually catch feelings for them – except perhaps Harry—’
‘No, don’t,’ she whispered, stiffening against him. ‘Please don’t mention him. Not now.’
He was quiet beneath her, his hand stroking her back languidly. ‘. . . What have I got myself into with you?’ he whispered. ‘You’ve scrambled my brain, Lee. Why can’t I just let you go?’