Frisky Business

by Clodagh Murphy

  Chapter Four

  Kit watched Romy’s house from his vantage point in the tree opposite as darkness fell and the road became populated with bands of miniature witches, vampires, superheroes and assorted ghouls. He burrowed closer to the trunk, clinging to the shadows of the branches as a group of children pushed through the green gate and ran up to the door with an explosion of giggles and squeals. He didn’t want to be seen, but he was glad of the opportunity to see Romy again when she came to answer the door. He watched her bend down, smiling brightly at the children as she held out a tray of treats. Her face was as warm and lovely as ever, and he felt happy to see her. Nevertheless, he was relieved when the children thundered off again, clanging the gate behind them, and he felt safe once more.

  ‘There’s a man up that tree!’ squealed a high-pitched childish voice below him, making him jump and almost lose his balance. He looked down to see a tiny witch with a pointy hat and an elaborate cobweb painted on her face standing at the bottom of the tree and pointing up at him. Luckily, her fellow munchkins weren’t paying any attention and had already beetled off to the next house, oblivious to her shrieking. She was looking right up at him now and he put a finger to his lips to shush her.

  ‘What are you doing up there?’ she called to him.

  ‘Sssh,’ he hissed, shaking his head at her.

  ‘Are you stuck?’

  ‘No, I’m not stuck,’ he whispered. ‘Go away!’ He waved a hand, shooing her.

  ‘Why are you up a tree?’

  Bloody little busybody! Why wouldn’t she just piss off? ‘I’m hiding,’ he told her. ‘I’m … playing hide and seek.’

  She looked around the road and then back up at him. ‘Who are you playing with?’

  ‘Shut up and go away. They’ll find me.’

  ‘Are you playing with your children?’

  ‘I don’t – yes!’

  ‘Oh.’ She looked up and down the road again. ‘Where are they?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Where are your children? I don’t see anyone.’

  For fuck’s sake! ‘They’re looking for me. They’re … here they come now,’ he said, waving vaguely to the end of the road, where a gaggle of trick-or-treaters had just rounded the corner.

  ‘Them?’ she pointed, peering at them closely as they drew nearer.

  ‘Yes,’ he hissed urgently. ‘That’s them. Now go away or they’ll find me.’

  ‘That’s Josh and Alice and Gordon and Pearse. They’re in my class. You’re not their dad. I’ve seen their dads at school.’

  ‘Look, will you just—’

  ‘Why did you say you’re their dad when you’re not?’

  She was looking up at him expectantly and he had no idea what to say. Then she suddenly gasped and he heard her mutter something to herself. ‘Stranger danger!’ she yelped, before letting out a blood-curdling scream and taking off down the road as fast as her little legs would carry her.

  Thank fuck for that, Kit thought, relaxing back against the tree to watch the comings and goings at Romy’s party, grateful to have the darkness to himself again. He didn’t know quite why he had decided to hide in a tree and spy on her from a distance, but he felt weird about just marching up to her door and ringing the bell after half a lifetime. Yeah, this was definitely the not-weird option, he thought wryly – stuck up a tree in the sodium haze of the streetlights with fireworks exploding around his head while he spied on his ex-girlfriend. There was nothing weird about that.

  His mother had been surprised when he had appeared downstairs and announced that he’d decided to go out after all. But when he’d said he thought he might take her advice and look up Romy, she had looked so pleased that it made him feel guilty – guilty that he could make her happy so easily if he tried, guilty that he hadn’t tried harder since coming home, and most of all, guilty because he knew she would read something into him looking up Romy that wasn’t actually there.

  He watched Romy move around the brightly lit room, pouring wine and passing around food, and felt a longing to be on the inside. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to move. It was getting cold in the tree, but it looked so cosy and inviting where Romy was that it warmed him up just looking at her. At one point, she stood in the window with a plate in her hand, forking food into her mouth and gazing out at the night, and it was like she was looking right at him, as if somehow she knew he was there and they were sharing the moment.

  Later, she got everyone playing old-fashioned Hallowe’en party games. Kit couldn’t see everything from his position, but he could see they were playing snap-apple at one stage. Snap-apple – without a hint of irony, and Romy was laughing her head off! She seemed to be having the time of her life with the old fogeys and deadbeats she had assembled in her house. She looked so happy, he thought wonderingly. Christ, if that was her idea of a good time, she’d probably be overjoyed to have him back in her life. Still he hung back, waiting to make his move …

  He’s not here, Romy thought as the party clattered and hummed around her. He didn’t come. It was completely irrational since she had no idea who he was and sometimes when she passed strangers in the street she thought ‘that could be him’ – so there was no reason why he couldn’t be standing in this room right now. But, somehow, she knew that he wasn’t. She was dismayed at how hollow that made her feel, and she turned to the window to give herself a moment of privacy, gazing out into the night as she forked cake into her mouth. He was still out there somewhere, and she would probably never see him again. She had thought she would feel relieved more than anything, but she realised now how excited she had been deep down at the thought that he might turn up.

  She didn’t know why, but as soon as she opened the door to the first guest, she had experienced a sense of absolute certainty that he wasn’t going to come, and she had felt instantly deflated – and knocked off balance by the crushing disappointment she’d felt. After all, she had always known the chances of him showing up were slim. But until that moment she hadn’t realised how much she had allowed the idea to take hold in her imagination. It was only when she was taking coats and exchanging small talk as she ushered in a group of her old school friends that the reality settled on her like the cold that still clung to them from outside, and she realised how fanciful she was being. Things like that didn’t happen in real life, to ordinary people like her.

  ‘Great party, Romy.’ She felt someone at her side and turned to find Derek Hanly standing beside her, a bottle of beer in his hand. Derek had been in her class at school. Tall and gangly, with an unkempt tangle of dark auburn hair and pale freckled skin, he still looked about twelve.

  ‘Hi, Derek,’ she smiled at him, shaking herself back to the present. ‘Glad you’re enjoying it.’ As she spoke, she saw Lesley in her peripheral vision, gesticulating at her wildly, alternating between pointing at Derek behind his back and waving her notebook.

  Romy sighed. Even though she felt it was futile, she should probably go through the motions just to keep Lesley happy. ‘Were you at David’s party last year?’ she asked him.

  ‘Yeah, I was, but this one’s a lot more fun. All that crap with wearing masks.’

  ‘Hmm. What did you go as?’

  Derek chuckled and took a sip of his beer before answering. ‘Darth Vader,’ he said, grinning at her. ‘Yeah, really shot myself in the foot with that one … bloody helmet …’

  Romy was aware that he was still speaking, but she had no idea what he was saying. It was as if the room and everything in it had faded into the background and all she could hear was the beat of her heart and the rush of blood in her veins.

  ‘Romy?’ He was looking at her with concern now. ‘You okay?’

  ‘What? Oh yeah,’ she said faintly, ‘I’m fine.’ She looked closely at him. He had a nice face, she thought – cute rather than handsome, but open and friendly. As far as she knew, he was a nice person. She hadn’t seen him properly in years, but she had always liked him at school. He had loaned her a te
nnis racket once when she’d broken hers. And he had bought her chips one lunch-time when she didn’t have any money. That was about the sum total of what she knew of him. Could he really be Luke’s father? It didn’t seem possible. And what was she supposed to do now that she’d found him? She couldn’t just say, ‘Oh, by the way, we have a child together.’

  ‘What are you up to these days?’ she asked, her voice sounding far away to her ears.

  ‘Nothing much. Still working for my dad.’

  ‘Computers, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yep. And I’m engaged! Orla and I are tying the knot next year,’ he said, nodding across the room at a girl who was chatting to a group of their old school friends.

  ‘Oh, that’s exciting! Congratulations!’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, grinning.

  God, this was going to be even more complicated than she’d thought. She glanced back at Orla. She looked so happy – they both did – and they were about to get married. How could she barge into their happy uncomplicated lives with a baby? She wasn’t sure she even wanted to. How good would it be for Luke having a father who was married to someone else, who would probably have children with someone else – a father who wouldn’t have much time for him and might not even want to know him?

  ‘Do you ever hear from David now? Or Katie?’ she asked mechanically.

  ‘No, not a sausage. But I was never really friends with David anyway. He only asked us lot to his parties to show off. And I didn’t know Katie at all.’

  ‘You didn’t?’ She watched him carefully, but there was nothing in his expression to suggest he was lying.

  ‘No. Anyway, it’s really nice to see you again, Romy. Thanks for inviting me. It’s nice to catch up with the old crowd. We never see each other anymore. We should do it more often.’

  She took a deep breath, steeling herself to speak. If she didn’t say something now, she never would. ‘I met you last year at David’s party.’

  ‘You did?’ he frowned. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘You were Darth Vader?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘We … talked. I was dressed as Red Riding Hood.’

  ‘Doesn’t ring a bell,’ he said. ‘But I was pretty pissed that night.’

  ‘We went upstairs. We didn’t take our masks off.’

  ‘Nope, definitely not me.’ She watched his face, but there wasn’t a flicker. Maybe he genuinely didn’t remember. But he hadn’t seemed that drunk.

  ‘It must have been the other Darth Vader,’ he said.

  ‘There was another one? Do you know who he was?’

  ‘No, sorry – don’t have a clue. He had a much fancier costume than mine – probably one of David’s knobhead friends.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’ And there it was – the relief she had expected to feel earlier was seeping through her now like analgesic, softening and relaxing.

  ‘Come over and I’ll introduce you to Orla,’ he said.

  ‘Romy, sorry to interrupt,’ May said, approaching her as she let Derek lead her away, ‘but whenever you’re ready, could I have a word with you about the swing?’

  ‘Sure, May – I’ll be with you in a sec.’

  ‘One of my tenants,’ she explained to Derek when May had retreated to a safe distance. ‘She wants my permission to set up this swing she wants to buy.’

  Derek looked across at May. ‘She looks a bit old for a swing,’ he said.

  ‘You don’t know the half of it,’ Romy said, rolling her eyes.

  She felt light-hearted as she joined the group around Orla, as if a weight had been lifted from her. She had caught a glimpse of what it might be like to find Luke’s father – all the complications and problems it could cause. Just as she had realised she might be better off not knowing, she had been given a reprieve.

  ‘Well, I’ve come up a blank,’ Lesley said to her later. ‘How about you? Did you question Derek?’

  ‘Yeah, it wasn’t him.’

  Lesley sighed. ‘That’s it, then. He’s not here.’

  ‘No,’ Romy smiled. ‘He’s not here.’

  Kit watched as the door opened and a flood of light illuminated the garden as another group of people hurried down the steps, waved off by Romy. He watched as they walked down the street and out of sight. When he turned back to the house, the door was closed again, the garden in darkness once more. He had made up his mind to go and knock on the door several times, but he had hesitated and started dithering again, and the moment had passed. Now the party seemed to be finally breaking up. Romy had been to the door several times, seeing people off, and now she was moving around the room, gathering things up. He lost sight of her for a while, and then a light came on at the other side of the house and she appeared in the window. It looked like she was cleaning up. He decided it was now or never.

  He pulled the mask he’d bought from his jacket pocket. He’d decided he would make an entrance – go up to her door in a mask and say ‘trick or treat’. On the way here, he had slipped into a newsagent’s and bought the first mask he could find – a cheap plastic one that made his face sweat, which was why he’d waited until the last moment to put it on.

  Silly, it is, he thought wryly, looking at the wise old face of Yoda. Still, he had felt it would be easier to approach Romy with the mask as a shield – it also meant he could still run away if he changed his mind and she need never know it was him. He pulled the mask over his face, the thin elastic tight on his ears. He was about to climb down from the tree when Romy came to the door again and he paused. She stood at the top of the steps making that ‘pshwsh’ sound people make to call cats and calling ‘Bumble’ softly.

  Kit looked down and saw a fat ginger cat rubbing himself on the bark of the tree – his tree! He tried to hiss at it really quietly, so Romy wouldn’t hear, desperately willing it to go away. But it was too late. Romy spotted the cat and came bounding down the steps and out the gate. Kit froze on the spot, looking down at the top of her dark head and trying not even to breathe as she bent to the cat.

  ‘There you are,’ she cooed, crouching down in front of him and stroking his fur. ‘Were you scared of the fireworks? Poor little fella.’

  She was reaching to pick him up when a firework screeched into the sky and exploded with a loud bang. The cat yowled and scrabbled up the tree, landing right in Kit’s lap, simultaneously sinking its claws into his crotch and its teeth into his hand. Already balanced precariously on a branch, Kit got such a fright he yelped and instinctively pulled away. Losing his balance, he came crashing out of the tree and landed with a thud right at Romy’s feet.

  ‘Ugh!’ he groaned as he sat up. ‘Nice one, Ginger!’ He scowled at the cat as it executed a perfect landing beside him seconds later and stalked over to Romy, its tail in the air.

  ‘Oh!’ Romy was looking down at him with a startled expression, and he jumped up quickly, brushing bits of twig and leaf from his clothes, aware that he must look like … well, like he’d literally been dragged through a tree backwards.

  ‘Hello!’ he said, giving her a big friendly grin, trying to look reassuringly normal, despite the fact that he had just come hurtling out of a tree.

  ‘Hello.’ She didn’t smile back, looking at him sketchily as she bent to pick up the cat, as if afraid he would pounce on her if she let her guard down for a second. She held the cat to her chest, stroking its fur. ‘Did you get a fright?’ she whispered, frowning crossly at Kit as if it was his fault – as if he’d done something to hurt the bloody animal, when in reality it was the other way around. She looked the cat over, checking for injuries.

  Kit waited for her to recognise him. He was surprised it was taking her this long, but then it was dark and it had been a very long time. Still, he didn’t think he’d changed that much. He reached a hand up to run his fingers through his hair and rake out any bits of tree, and his fingers met plastic. Of course! He’d forgotten he’d put the mask on, and somehow it had survived the fall. Maybe he could get out of this with his dignity intact
after all. He could run away incognito and she would never know it was him. Then he could call to her house tomorrow like a normal person.

  ‘So … what are you doing here?’ she asked him.

  ‘Oh, just …’He shrugged, playing it casual while desperately trying to think of something to say to convince her he wasn’t a nutjob or a pervert. ‘Just, you know … Hallowe’en.’ Great! He was really on fire tonight.

  ‘You were up a tree.’

  ‘Um … yes. I was.’

  ‘Aren’t you a bit old for climbing trees and dressing up for Hallowe’en?’

  ‘I’m very immature.’ Brilliant! Where the fuck had that come from? Still, it got a little smile from her. She nodded slowly, looking at him for a long time, like she was trying to decide something – probably whether he was an axe murderer or not.

  ‘Well, happy Hallowe’en,’ she said, throwing him a dubious look as she turned to go.

  ‘Happy Hallowe’en,’ Kit called. When she was at the gate, he bent down to brush mud from his trousers. ‘May the force be with you,’ he mumbled to her back.

  Romy spun around. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Happy Hallowe’en.’

  She shook her head. ‘After that.’

  ‘Um … may the force be with you?’

  The cat wriggled out of her arms and padded back through the gate and up the steps, but Romy still stood there, looking at him strangely. ‘Why did you say that?’ She looked a bit freaked out – which he supposed made sense in the circumstances. But why now? She hadn’t seemed fazed when he first landed at her feet.

  ‘It’s just an expression.’ Kit shrugged. ‘It’s Star Wars.’ Surely she knew Star Wars? He was sure he could remember watching it with her.

  ‘Yes, I know it’s Star Wars. It just … it seems an odd thing to say.’

  ‘I guess I’m just in a Star Wars frame of mind,’ he said, pointing at his mask.

  ‘Do you like Star Wars?’

  ‘What?’