The Fault

by Kitty Sewell

  ‘Yeah, yeah…a few diehards who think the Rock of Gibraltar is unique and timeless. They’re so fucking entrenched in their beliefs, they’d risk exposing Gibraltar to those intangible vultures: opportunists of the tax system, like online gambling companies. When what they really need is revolutionary developments which can put their poxy little peninsula on the world map.’

  Eva gave his arm a shake. ‘Oh, please, let’s not go there again. Can we just try and enjoy the evening! I thought you did quite well in there. I can see you have support.’

  At once he was sorry to have spoiled Eva’s joy in the evening. She was so supportive, so tolerant. She deserved more than he gave her.

  ‘Look, there’s Mike and Trevor,’ she said. ‘Why don’t we ask if they want to have a drink with us somewhere?’

  ‘Oh, God!’ Sebastian said with a grimace. Let’s not.’

  ‘You never want to socialise with your colleagues,’ she said. ‘Why is that?’

  He cast about for the right answer. ‘Because I’ve got you and Mimi. I’ve got no time left over for anyone else.’

  ‘You’ll like Brian, my boss,’ she said. ‘He says that about his dog. He’d understand someone as weird as you.’ She laughed merrily and planted a kiss on his cheek. ‘And I mean that in the nicest possible way.’

  They walked arm in arm towards Casemates Square. The atmosphere in the streets was festive, the town heaving with revellers, tourists and locals alike. It was the middle of June and the busy season had begun. Luxury cruise ships swelled the crowds daily, flights increased and the tax-free booze and cigarettes brought visitors over the border from Spain in droves.

  Sebastian felt a telltale tension behind his eyes but determined not to spoil the rest of their evening. His presentation had, after all, not been a disaster. Hadn’t he determined, just before it, that he was on top of the world?

  Since cutting down on his medication, his confidence had soared and his social skills seemed so much more fluent. On his last appointment at the Harley Street clinic, his doctor, Liam Matthews had advised him to stay on the pills. Matthews had been his dad’s doctor and was getting on for retirement and perhaps not as clued up as he should be. But understanding Sebastian’s potential, he’d bailed him out more than once. A reference here, a signature there, a few creatively modified medical reports. In some ways, it was Matthews’ doing that he was here at all.

  ‘You won’t like this, honey.’ Eva said softly. ‘I should tell you Mimi’s date was with Montegriffo. They were meeting up for a drink. Just in case we run into them, please don’t make a scene.’

  He stopped. ‘You’ve got to be kidding! Are you telling me that asshole went straight from humiliating me to seduce my teenage sister?’

  ‘You’re making too much of it, Sebastian. What I’ve seen of Mimi, she’s quite capable of holding her own. You can’t shield her from life. For all you know it’s just a friendship.’

  ‘It’s that bloody mother of mine. If she’d only showed Mimi a smidgen of love, she’d be safe and sound in the heart of Surrey.’

  ‘Maybe, but it rarely works that way, honey. She is almost eighteen. I had long left home when I was that age.’

  He stood there, rooted to the ground beneath him.

  ‘Are you with me?’ Eva said, nudging him in the side with her elbow.

  ‘I am with you all right, till death do us part.’ He put his arm around her shoulder. He had to be cool. He knew his future depended on it. ‘Let me take you to Gauchos, my love. They apparently do the best steak outside of Argentina.’

  Mimi

  They sat at under a parasol at one of the bars in Casemates Square.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you smoke a cigarette,’ said Carlo. ‘You said you liked smoking.’

  ‘I am trying to quit.’

  ‘Good girl. I’m all for trying everything life has to offer, but once you’ve tried smoking you can leave that particular habit to the lowlife.’

  She sniggered. ‘Lowlife? One of the many undesirables on your list?’

  He leaned forward. ‘I’m afraid your brother is not very happy with me.’

  ‘What did you do?’ she asked, frowning.

  ‘I showed him up in front of the audience tonight. I think I pricked his balloon, somewhat.’

  Oh, God. She hadn’t even been there to support Sebastian. She’d not had the stomach to witness his performance, knowing precisely how inflated his ego would be after having worked himself up into a frenzy.

  ‘What did you do exactly?’

  ‘I just told him that the Frontiers Development is on hold for a month as of Monday. He had no idea.’

  ‘And you did this, why? To humiliate him in front of everyone?’

  Carlo’s hands clenched around the arm-rests of his chair. ‘I could not be witness to the absolute drivel he was spouting.’ His voice rose a little. ‘Does he honestly believe that his monstrous creation is going to improve Gibraltar?’

  ‘Yes, he does.’

  Looking at her, Carlo must have read her dismay. His eyes shifted from hard to gentle, and he smiled sadly. ‘If you want, I’ll apologise to him. Poor you, in the middle of this. You are being very diplomatic and levelheaded, stuck between two crazy guys.’

  ‘I will always take my brother’s side, Carlo. He’s just doing his job. If he’s out to lunch about the benefit to Gibraltar, it’s not for me to question. I don’t understand the ins and outs of this business anyway.’

  They sank into silence and drank their beer, their eyes held by a street performer, a wizard sitting crosslegged high on a pole. He was utterly immobile, his eyes closed but his face showing a shadow of pain. Self-immolation, she mouthed, not sure if it was.

  ‘I’ve gone through all the scenes you left for me to read,’ Carlo said softly. He took out the brown envelope she’d left him from his jacket’s inside pocket. ‘Sorry it took so long. I kept starting and then feeling like I was peeping into something that wasn’t for my eyes and ears.’

  She took the envelope from him and sat up expectantly. ‘Never mind. What did you think?’

  He reached over and touched her hand. ‘I can’t say I loved it, because I found it disturbing. But the writing is excellent, stark, unsentimental, very proficient. I’ve made some notes in the margins, in case you want to know. Some things to clarify, some to shorten perhaps, some asking for more detail.’

  She was thrilled with his review. It wasn’t a story anyone would love, exactly, but it was about real life and it had moved him. On impulse she half stood and planted a kiss on his cheek. He closed his eyes and touched the kiss, putting his hand over his cheek as if to stop it fading in the air.

  All at once she got worried that she’d shown him a scene in her narrative which could compromise Sebastian. She had no trouble baring her own past to Carlo, but after what he’d just done to her brother during his presentation, why should he be privy to any of Sebastian’s troubles?

  When Carlo’s mobile rang, she slipped out a few pages and scanned them quickly.

  They sat in the taxi, but Christiana refused to open the door. Marcus made no move either, his face hidden in his hands. The driver played with his mobile and waited patiently. He was Polish or something, his licence showed his photo and the unpronounceable name. Having seen the house, he probably thought it worth waiting, a big tip in mind.

  Her heart felt like a stone, but she was not going to cry. She was angry, too, and sad beyond belief. It was only three weeks since Dad’s funeral, three weeks to pack, three weeks to cry, three weeks to say goodbye to Helena, Rosie and Neil, three weeks to find a home for the cat. She’d helped Marcus sort out Dad’s clothes, books and other stuff. That was the worst part. That big man with his huge trousers, his worn-down slippers and threadbare Panama hat. Each item went into plastic bags, for refuse or for the cancer charity. With each item, Dad was dying again, over and over.

  ‘Why can’t I just come with you? I can go to school in Japan. There’s got to be school
s there.’

  He reached for her hand. ‘Listen, sis. We’ve been through all this probably a dozen times. You know I can’t look after you. I’ve got a huge project starting and if I keep my nose clean, probably another one in Dubai right after.’

  ‘What?’ she wailed. ‘You didn’t tell me that. Where the fuck is Dubai?’

  He sighed. ‘You know these breaks are vital for my career.’

  ‘Your fucking career,’ she sneered. ‘Get a nanny then. Surely they have nannies in Japan, or a governess, like Jane Eyre. You can pay someone to keep me shackled.’

  The whole conversation was like a broken record; even she was fed up with it. She could puke just thinking about the days and hours they’d argued and cried, both Marcus and her. Crying, then shouting, then promising, then crying and shouting again.

  ‘You’re only thirteen, sis. Tokyo is a bad place to have you running amok.’

  ‘I don’t believe you, you just don’t want me,’ she said and yanked her hand from his.

  He turned suddenly and looked her fiercely in the eye. ‘Okay, listen, I shouldn’t really, but I’ll give you the real reason – the main reason – but I don’t want you to talk about it to anyone. Mother and Gordon know, but no-one else.’ He paused and took a breath. ‘I’m simply not allowed to take you with me. Dr. Matthews has helped me far beyond the call of duty, but when it came to letting me be your sole guardian, he said no. He would not sign anything, in fact, he said he would make my past known to social services.’

  ‘But why?’ she said, understanding but rejecting the reason.

  ‘You know very well why. Maybe Dad had his hand in it, from when he knew he was getting ill. Or maybe Dr. Matthews just refuses to be responsible for me taking you away. He said you would be better off with your mother and he’s not far-off right.’

  ‘Mother doesn’t want me,’ she cried. ‘And I hate her.’

  ‘Listen, sweetheart. I’ll come back often, or I’ll send for you every holiday I get.’

  They’d come to the end of the line. Every argument had been exhausted. She turned her head and looked out. The Featherington-Haugh mansion loomed like a huge grey box. It wasn’t Downton Abbey, but she had never set foot in a house that big.

  ‘Let’s go,’ she said and patted Marcus on the hand. He was dabbing at his eyes with a tissue. ‘I’ll make the best of it,’ she said to make him feel better. ‘But please don’t abandon me forever. Promise to send for me.’

  As if he knew the stage they were at, the driver got out and started unloading the suitcases. Marcus and Christiana looked at each other: no more words were needed.

  ‘I love you, sis,’ he said anyway, in case she’d not read it on his face.

  Mimi blanched as she read, but the vital information had been left out. She’d alluded to it, make his past known to the social services. You know very well why.

  She looked at Carlo who had finished his call. He smiled at her, his face giving nothing away.

  ‘Can I get you another beer?’ he said.

  Eva

  She began to badger him first thing in the morning about coming along to the beach. It was Saturday, for heaven’s sake, but no, some design problem on Luna’s Crossing was consuming him and it had to be solved. Sebastian seemed increasingly fixated, taking advantage, while Frontiers was on hold, to work on his private obsession. She tried her hardest to convince him that Luna’s Crossing could wait…he had not even begun his present project, let alone securing the UK and Moroccan governments’ agreement to fund the world’s most spectacular bridge. Even Mimi gave him a stern look and said something that Eva did not pick up. He’d hesitated for a moment, but in the end he couldn’t be swayed.

  She didn’t doubt her lover’s talent, capability and energy, but he seemed engrossed to the point of neurosis. She’d never before been associated with a creative genius, so it was difficult to know what to expect. Sometimes she wondered if it was her duty as his partner to try and slow him down, provoke some kind of reality check. He could certainly do with spending a little bit more time with her, and with Mimi in particular.

  She glanced over at Mimi. The girl was not much company either. She was lying on the sand on a large black towel in the black bikini Eva had bought her (after having ascertained that she didn’t own a swimsuit) with her eyes behind black sunshades. Her cellphone was in her hand and she was tapping her foot to some music. There was no telling what was going on in her head. She was too thin, her skin was translucent, whiter than white and smooth as a baby’s. The skull tattoo looked cruel and incongruous on the jutting hipbone. It seemed too childlike a body to be ravished by a man with a receding hairline.

  She put the thought out of her mind and looked around, observing other families laying out blankets, erecting parasols and unpacking huge picnic baskets with coolers full of wine and beer. They were revelling in simple pleasures, being close, chatting animatedly, soaking up the sun and watching the kids play. The beach was rapidly filling up, people claiming spaces within spaces so that sunworshippers were practically laid out head to toe, like the proverbial sardines. There were few sandy beaches in Gibraltar, and she regretted not having gone to the Eastern Beach which stretched several hundred metres along the east side of the isthmus. It was undoubtedly less claustrophobic and she could have used the opportunity to check if it was possible to swim out and around the barrier into Spain, but Mimi had insisted on Catalan Bay. Mimi was quite taken with its fishing village flavour and the fuck-you attitude of the Genoese descendants who lived there. She was right: one could easily imagine being in Italy.

  It was getting on for midday and she took out her factor 50 sunblock and began to cover herself in the waxy substance, wondering if she should poke Mimi and force her to do the same. The stuff was all over her hands when her cellphone rang. She rubbed her hands on her towel before rummaging ineffectively in her bag for the phone.

  She didn’t make it, and peering, at the screen against the harsh sunlight, she saw that the number had been withheld.

  ‘Why didn’t you answer your phone?’ said the lifeless Mimi.

  ‘I didn’t find it in time.’

  Mimi moved her sunglasses up and frowned at her. ‘So phone back. It’s got to have been Sebastian. He’s probably feeling guilty. He could be in a taxi in his oversized swimming shorts coming to look for us.’

  ‘The signal is so intermittent here,’ Eva lied. ‘I’ll just go for a little walk and see if I can pick it up on the road.’

  Mimi snorted. ‘Over there? The Rock’s in the way.’

  ‘I’ll give it a try,’ Eva said and stood up. She pulled her sundress over her head and slipped on her rubber sandals.

  ‘Get me a gin and tonic, will you?’ Mimi said.

  ‘At lunch time? What’re you like?’

  ‘Be a devil! Get yourself one too.’ She rolled onto her side and raised herself on an elbow, pointing to the little beach bar no more than ten paces from where they lay. ‘See? People keep coming out of there with large plastic glasses.’

  ‘Maybe. See you in a moment.’

  The village of Catalan Bay was only a few houses deep, spread between the road and the beach and cowering under the looming precipice of the Rock. Eva ran up to the road on shaky legs and sat down on the railing. She took out her phone and dialled California.

  ‘Linda?’

  ‘What the hell…is that you, Chanta— Eva?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I know it must be the middle of the night.’

  ‘Are you okay?’ Linda wheezed and the scramble for a cigarette was unmistakeable.

  ‘I know I can trust you absolutely, Linda, but could you have mentioned my phone call to anyone, anyone who knows Adrian? Could you have passed my number inadvertently to someone or written it down somewhere…? I know it’s a totally ridiculous idea…of course you haven’t, but…’

  ‘Eva, Eva…whooa, stop,’ Linda cried down the phone. ‘What’s going on? Why would I do a thing like that? I’ve even tried to for
get ever knowing you so I wouldn’t accidentally as much as mention your name.’

  Eva’s shoulders sagged as she realised how crass the insinuation was: an insult to Linda’s intelligence and loyalty. As if her best friend would recklessly give away her whereabouts or her phone number. ‘Oh, God, Linda. I know I sound hysterical. Please forget what I just said. I know you’re discretion personified.’

  ‘What’s brought this on?’ Linda asked, taking a long drag on her cigarette.

  ‘Silent phone calls. Ever since I got this damned cell phone, just after I got in contact with you, some man is calling my number then breathing down the phone. I just can’t think who’d want to freak me out like that…except of course Adrian. It’d be just up his street. He used to enjoy unnerving me with his eerie mind games, remember?’

  Linda was wheezing and coughing down the phone, sounding as though she were a mere few metres away and not in California. ‘Listen!’ she said. ‘If I’m the only person who knows where you are, then it can’t be him. Anyway, knowing Adrian, he wouldn’t bother to goof about on the phone. If he knew where you were, he’d just come after you, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘Just because he’s discovered my number doesn’t mean he can find me. It’s a pay-as-you-go phone and Spain is quite a big country.’