Back in the sanctuary of her flat, Sarah put on a compilation CD of seventies hits and picked up the paper. As she listened to the familiar music, she laid the paper down beside her; she was reading the same headlines over and over again. So many things were happening, disturbing the normal equilibrium of her life: Logan Baird being released, her mother’s bizarre behaviour, the tensions between the twins, coming into contact with Captain Kidd again, and, of course, Tom. He never seemed to be far away from her thoughts now.
The strains of Les McKeown’s introduction to the Bay City Rollers’ ‘Bye Bye Baby’ came on and she was overcome by a wave of nostalgia and regrets. That was a hit when Shona was killed. They danced to this together in her bedroom. The last time she could ever remember dancing to a pop song. After that it was all blank, lonely.
The music changed… Woke up this morning half asleep. The beginning of ‘Flowers in the Rain’. Pop music had been banned in her house. All she could remember were stiff meals with stilted conversations and long, gloomy silences. Television was considered a sin and a copy of Jackie provoked a rant on the wickedness of the world. Her mother was always a shadowy figure in the background, never standing up to her husband, but spoilt in many ways, seemingly content as long as she was given her treats, new clothes and a weekly trip to the hairdresser.
On the other hand, anything Sarah had wanted was frivolous, a waste of money; like her clothes, for example: they had to be respectable, old-fashioned and drab, and never seemed to fit, bought to accommodate her long arms and legs, but hanging shapelessly round her undeveloped body.
No wonder she’d spent as much time as she could with Shona and her family. Shona had radiated joy, had brought light into Sarah’s life. And she was daring: Sarah felt a tinge of guilt as she remembered the things they’d got up to together. They’d phoned people up, boys in the class, even once Captain Kidd. Shona had put on a different voice and said the most ridiculous things while Sarah stifled her giggles in the background.
And mixed with her memories of the past there was the image of Tom. Shona’s cool big brother. And now he was back in Scotland. She looked at her phone again. She hadn’t heard anything since the last text message. Was he back in Edinburgh?
Her mobile phone beeped. She looked at it, and felt a tremor of excitement. A message from Tom. Are you at home? Can we talk?
She texted back immediately. Where are you? Do you want to come round now?
The mobile rang almost immediately. Tom’s voice. Still Scottish but with a slight overlay of a South African accent. ‘I’m very close. Just outside actually. I was just going to call in but I didn’t want to interrupt anything. Is this a good time?’
‘Of course. Just come right up.’
Sarah could feel her heart beating faster with anticipation. She plumped up a few cushions and then looked in the mirror. Would it look too obvious if she put on some lipstick?
The door rang and she saw Tom standing there. His tanned face looked pale, his eyes dark and tired. They looked at each other slightly awkwardly and then bumped noses as they both went the same way attempting to kiss each other on the cheek.
Chapter 13
Sarah took a deep breath. ‘Would you like something to drink? A coffee?’ She led him into the front room. He accepted and sat down at the end of the Chesterfield.
As they drank, Sarah asked him about his visit to the Outer Hebrides. Tom told her about scattering the ashes, and the love and welcome he felt from his mother’s family. He briefly mentioned going to Lewis and, seemingly emboldened by her look of intense interest, mentioned his half-brother. ‘It was so strange finding out I had an older brother and then losing him within a few minutes. I was amazed by the sense of loss I felt.’
Tom looked up and his eyes met Sarah’s. Sarah felt her stomach flip.
The phone rang, breaking the moment. Sarah wondered whether to answer it, but saw it was her mother. She picked up the receiver and her mother’s cultured Edinburgh tones rang out clearly; she was of the generation who believed you had to shout into the phone. ‘Not disturbing you, my dear, am I?’
Sarah raised her eyebrows at Tom. Without pausing for an answer, her mother hurried on.
‘I just had to phone you because I had a most interesting conversation in the Brasserie.’ She exaggerated the French pronunciation. ‘You know I was there with Lady Antonia. Well, I asked her about her brother and she didn’t want to talk about him at all!’
‘Yes, I don’t think they have much contact,’ said Sarah in a calming voice, because her mother sounded highly excitable.
‘But you don’t know why, do you?’ Flora’s voice dropped in a conspiratorial way. ‘After lunch, Mona, you know Mona McLean – her husband was a law lord,’ Sarah held the phone from her ear and glanced over at Tom, circling her hand in a ‘get on with it’ gesture, ‘gave me a lift home, she has a driver, of course, and she told me the whole story. Apparently, Antonia and her brother were very close when they were young, but there was a terrible falling out. Something happened when he was about seventeen and he had to leave the family home and was told never to darken their door again.’
Sarah winced at her mother’s melodramatic language.
‘So he left there and then and the family have never had anything to do with each other since.’
Sarah waited, but when nothing more came she asked, ‘So, what happened?’
‘Nobody really knows but Mona thinks it’s something to do with a young housemaid they had. I think they were found together.’
‘Surely that wouldn’t be enough to cause such a family rift? I thought that was par for the course at that time, rite of passage for young men of his class?’
‘Sarah, I really don’t know where you get these ideas from. Probably from one of those books you’re always reading.’ Her mother said books like Lady Bracknell intoning handbag.
‘Anyway, Mum, I’m glad you had a good time. Thanks for ringing to let me know.’
‘I thought Rory would be interested.’
‘I’ll tell him as soon as he gets in. Speak to you soon – and see you on Sunday.’
‘Ah yes, Sunday. Please ask Nicholas if he could bring his young lady. I’m sure she must be a delightful person to have captured his heart.’
‘I’ll ask him.’
‘Well, my dear, I have to go now. Give my love to Rory.’ Sarah was left looking at the phone, quizzically.
She looked across at Tom. ‘I did wonder if there was something strange about Kidd’s family. He was very adamant that he didn’t want them included in the programme.’
Her voice trailed off as there was a click at the front door and Rory came into the room, followed by Captain Kidd. Sarah blushed, hoping they hadn’t caught her last sentence and hurried into the kitchen to put the coffee on.
‘Hi Tom,’ Rory put his arm round his shoulder. Tom and Kidd exchanged greetings and Rory pulled a paper out of his pocket. ‘I’ve just seen Archie and he’s given me this. It’s tomorrow’s paper. Logan Baird was released today.’
Rory handed the paper to Tom before heading for the kitchen. On the front page above the headlines were thumbnails from the featured articles. He saw a miniature version of the most famous photo of Shona, the one that had appeared on all the posters. The Insight Article was on page fourteen.
Tom’s hand trembled as he found the page. A larger picture of Shona stared out at him, looking back over her shoulder, laughing. He remembered that photo being taken on the beach; such a happy day, everyone unaware of what was to happen so soon afterwards. He quickly skimmed the article.
Portobello murder case man freed after thirty-seven years in jail.
A man who has spent nearly forty years in prison was released last night, pending a fresh appeal against his conviction in the notorious Portobello murder case of 1976.
Rory came back from the kitchen with a bottle of Italian red and four glasses. He uncorked it and poured them all a glass. Tom closed the paper; he couldn’t bear
to read this now.
‘Have you had a chance to speak to the police yet?’ Rory asked.
Tom shook his head; he knew he was putting it off, but the shock discoveries about his father in Lewis had made him uncertain what to do next. Like everything in his life he hadn’t wanted to confront, he tried to forget it, hoping it would go away.
Rory raised his glass to him. ‘Now I know that you didn’t exactly hit it off with Archie the other day, but I think it would be good if you met again. You see that he’s been true to his word and he’s kept you and Sarah out of his article.’
Tom took a deep breath of relief.
Rory sipped from his glass. ‘I think you should speak to him. He’s got a few good contacts in the force,’ he tapped his nose, ‘and he’ll be able to give you a bit of background before you talk to the police. He’s always in the Café Royal at lunchtime, so what about meeting for a drink tomorrow at about one?’
Tom nodded. It was a good idea.
Rory emptied his glass. ‘So that’s a date then.’ He gestured towards his old teacher and lifted his camera case. ‘I can’t stay long, the Captain and I are off filming. We’re concentrating on the animal poems at the moment so we’re going out tonight to film him reading some of his poems outside – down to Portobello beach to do Seagull and then off into the woods for Owl.’ He nodded at Kidd. ‘The Captain’s got great presence when he reads.’
Sarah, who’d come into the room during the last sentence, nodded. ‘I wanted to ask you about the Seagull. When you read it at the reunion it sent shivers down my spine. What inspired that?’
Kidd looked pleased. ‘Thank you, Sarah. What a lovely thing to say. Now how did this poem come about? I read an article that stated that DNA research shows that very close relatives of modern birds were already around about 100 million years ago. If you look closely at the seagull, especially the older ones, you can see that they really are living fossils. I’m also interested in theories that a species have a collective consciousness so there are shared memories.’
‘Save all this for the film, HJ,’ Rory interrupted. Then he paused and pointed as he saw Sultan stalk into the room with an arrogant swagger, his tail straight up. ‘Here comes Sultan, right on cue. I told you about him. How about reading Tibby the Cat with him?’
HJ Kidd looked pained. ‘I was eight when I wrote that. So embarrassing. I’m not altogether convinced that such a poem would add anything to the programme.’
Rory shook his head. ‘Great human interest, great accessibility. And it’s a lovely poem, eyes like marbles and wire whiskers.’
HJ Kidd still didn’t seem convinced. ‘We can discuss that later.’
Rory leapt up. ‘Anyway, we’d better be going. We don’t want to miss the evening light on the beach.’
Kidd smiled at Sarah. ‘Always delightful to see you, my dear. I did so enjoy seeing you at our poetry evening at the centre, and I hope you will join us for some more of the filming.’
Sarah flushed under the intensity of his gaze. ‘I’d like to do that. I really enjoyed watching the filming.’
Rory drained his glass and stood up quickly, turning to Sarah. ‘Right, I’m off now. I’ll be late so don’t wait up.’ He punched Tom on the shoulder. ‘See you in the Café Royal.’ He lowered his voice. ‘And we’re really going to have to have that night out together soon. Jennie’s still in town, you know.’ With a sly wink he picked up the camera and his coat and ushered HJ Kidd into the hall.
The door slammed behind him. Sarah and Tom looked at each other again. Tom felt anger welling up inside him. Rory talking like that in front of Sarah, ignoring her most of the time. ‘Rory seems to go out a lot.’
‘It’s his job. I’m used to it.’
‘But don’t you get lonely sometimes?’ Tom regretted saying it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. It sounded like a cheesy chat-up line.
Sarah smiled. ‘I like being by myself. I like reading, listening to music.’ She laid back and the cat leapt onto her lap and stretched out, flexing his claws and purring softly. ‘And I’ve got Sultan for company.’
Tom wanted to shout: you’re a beautiful, sensual woman and your husband’s a lying philandering bastard. You deserve so much more. But he couldn’t. She seemed so cool, so composed. Then he remembered the passion of her kiss at the door.
He raised his glass and looked across at the beauty of her face. She lowered her long lashes and then looked up at him, her lips slightly apart. A wave of passion passed between them that made his stomach lurch.
Tom reached out to her and drew her towards him. Sarah responded by moving towards him and moulding her body to his. Her lips so soft and yielding, her tongue tracing the outline of his mouth. He put his hand under her cashmere sweater and fumbled for her bra fastening.
Then nature took over. Hands, tongues, needy, reaching a frenzy of excitement as they pulled the rest of their clothes off and their bodies melded. It was irresistible. The rush of feeling coursed through his whole body.
Afterwards he held her close, and kissed her gently on her eyelids. During his encounters in South Africa he’d never felt anything like this. Then, he’d wanted to get away as quickly as possible afterwards, but with Sarah he felt he wanted to stay for ever. The heaviness of sleep overcame him and he fell asleep in her arms.
*
The room was dark and the street lights outside cast shadows on the ceiling when he woke up. Sarah was asleep with her head on his chest, her mouth moving slightly as if she was talking in her sleep. He looked at his clothes scattered on the floor and tried to reach them without disturbing Sarah. He’d better get dressed – what if Rory came back?
As he moved Sarah opened her eyes, blinking as she looked round the room, then at him. She sat up straight and shook her head, her brown hair swaying gently. They dressed quickly and Sarah reached for the wine glass and took a sip. ‘At least I can’t blame it on drunkenness,’ she said, looking at him with a mock-apologetic expression. Her eyes were sparkling.
Tom lifted his glass and clinked it against hers. He felt literally lost for words. He wanted to say, that was the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me, but just murmured, ‘That was lovely.’
Sarah smiled at him. ‘Yes, it was.’ Then a look of sadness crossed her face. ‘Oh Tom, what are we going to do?’
Tom took another slug of wine. He wanted to tell her what Rory was really like but he couldn’t. ‘You seem to lead separate lives,’ was as far as he felt he could go.
Sarah lowered her eyes. ‘Tom, I feel so close to you. I feel… right with you. I wish we could have got together earlier, under different circumstances.’ She bit her lip. ‘But I have to stay with Rory. There’s something I have to tell you. I hope you won’t hate me when you hear it.’
Tom couldn’t think of anything that Sarah could tell him that would change the way he felt. He held her hand more tightly trying to show this.
Sarah took a deep breath. ‘Everyone thinks I’m so good.’ Her voice rose and Tom stroked her arm.
‘After my father died I met a boy, the brother of a girl at school. He was the kind of boy my mother had always dreamt of: good family, best school and university, training to be a lawyer. He said he loved me and I believed him. I went to bed with him. I knew it was wrong, I was not that kind of girl.’
She gulped a huge breath. ‘And then I found out I was pregnant. I was so sick, so frightened. I thought when I told him we’d get married, that he’d make everything all right. But,’ she looked round the room with a distracted stare, ‘he told me to get rid of it, said I was just a silly little girl.’
Tom put his arm round her. He could feel the tension in her body. She took a tissue from her pocket and twisted it in her hands. ‘And I did. I didn’t tell anyone. I went to a clinic and had an abortion. Used all my savings. Then I stayed at home for weeks. I told my mother I was ill and she accepted it without any questions. Didn’t really seem to notice. It was just the time when she was coming
to life again, catching up with all her old school friends and going out to lunch.’
Tom stroked her hair, wanting to show support but not wanting to break the flow of words. After another pause Sarah seemed to calm herself.
‘Then I went back to college and finished the course. I got a job at the Scotsman and met Rory. We worked together and one day he asked me to come for a coffee. I don’t know how but I told him everything. He was so easy to talk to, so unshockable. He was the first person I could talk to and he understood. He made me feel that everything was all right. He listened to me. He was the only person I’d told and he didn’t condemn me.’
Tom felt a twinge of jealousy as Sarah took a deep breath. ‘I began to fall in love with him. I’d vowed I’d never go to bed with a man again until I was married, but I did. The first time we slept together must have been the night we conceived the twins. The nightmare came back – I was pregnant.’ Tom held her closer. Poor Sarah, from what he knew of her and her background, he could imagine how terrified she must have been.
Sarah raised her eyes and looked at him. ‘I was so scared when I told Rory. I was sure he’d tell me to have another abortion.’ She faltered over the last words and Tom saw tears welling up in her eyes.
‘I didn’t know then that he was already married. I felt even more terrible when I found out. But he told me he loved me. He left his wife and let me have my babies. He gave up everything for me. Tom, how could I ever leave him?’
Tom watched her, his heart aching. He murmured platitudes about everyone making mistakes, being able to put the past behind. He thought, but he didn’t say, that Rory had probably wanted an escape from that early marriage, judging by what he’d said in the pub, and he had certainly not been faithful to her since then.
Tom felt so confused. He’d been attracted to Sarah the moment he met her again and now – seeing the vulnerability beneath her composed exterior – he felt more. They were linked through Shona, but there was a deeper connection. He wanted to protect her, to kiss her eyelids for ever, to hold her safe. She deserved so much better than Rory. But what did he have to offer? He was a homeless South African bum, with no home, no qualifications, no prospects.
Sewing the Shadows Together Page 11