Never Tell

by Seeber, Claire

  ‘How romantic.’ It was too late for recriminations. I took a deep breath. ‘Liam says she was a whore.’

  ‘He did, did he?’ James sat back. His face closed up again. ‘Well, he would. He was jealous.’

  I looked dispassionately down on James, as if I was out of my body. How bizarre our life had become: my husband and I sitting in prison, discussing whether his business partner was jealous of the girl James had apparently been sleeping with.

  ‘Why jealous?’ Liam might not be the next Brad Pitt – ‘Liams are always mingers’ was the joke between us when we’d met first – but he had no trouble whatsoever attracting women.

  James shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, Rose, but she was gorgeous. You saw that. Any bloke would …’ He caught my eye and trailed off. It only affirmed everything I’d guessed James felt about my exhausted body since I’d had the kids. I stayed at home, he cavorted with young dancers and the like. I looked back at James, who seemed utterly bashful. ‘Well, you know.’

  And yet – Danny had made me feel beautiful. I pushed the memories away. I thought back to Katya. I hadn’t taken much notice of her, to be honest. I had been caught up in my own well of misery, busy with the arrangements. She’d turned up the night before the party and I stayed hidden in my room after James had hit me, with ice on my swelling eye, praying it would go down by tomorrow.

  The next day she and Star had gone shopping in Oxford, then they’d played with the children for an hour whilst I ran around tweaking things. I remembered her painted face as she flew through the air, the thick black eye make-up, lashes like spider’s legs, silver glitter on her cheeks. I remembered the oxygen mask clamped over her white face whilst she lay dying. But I couldn’t recall much else.

  ‘Time’s up. Come on, Miller. Say your goodbyes.’ The lanky officer stared at me.

  ‘But, James, why would he say that?’ I leaned forward urgently. ‘He meant she was a proper whore. Like a prostitute. I know he did.’

  ‘Shut up, Rose,’ James hissed, standing now. ‘You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. He was just jealous because he wanted her and she preferred me. And I’m sorry, Rose, I’m sorry that I slept with her. It was only once or twice.’

  ‘Oh. Well, that’s all right then,’ I said flatly. For who was I to judge now?

  ‘Come on, Rose. You haven’t seemed bothered for years.’ I opened my mouth in incredulity, but nothing came out. ‘Don’t deny it, Rose.’

  ‘You’re talking rubbish, James.’ I stood too. ‘I can hardly remember the last time you actually came to bed with me. Probably when the twins were conceived.’

  ‘I did try.’ He was unconvincing. ‘Once or twice.’

  I thought of the night Liam had brought the children home. We stared at each other across the table until James was led away. ‘Don’t forget the fags next time, OK?’ he muttered over his shoulder.

  I nodded.

  ‘And kiss the children for me, please. Tell them Daddy loves them.’ There was a break in his voice.

  ‘I will.’

  But he was gone.

  And he was lying, that much was clear.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  TIME OUT, JUNE 2008

  Get down to the Revolver relaunch tonight and shake your thang to some of the best tunes in club-land. Don’t miss British hot-shot DJs Nathan Coles, Terry Francis, Beth B.B. and the altogether nu-wave Tig-Tig … And don’t say you haven’t been warned: the queues will be massive, the floors will be jumping, the bass will be pumping. 11 p.m. – 5 a.m., Smithfields. £10 on the door, £8 if you email Marsha@revolver.uk. Be there or be very very sorry …

  If it had been a story I’d been chasing in my old life, I would have visited the London club immediately; jumped straight on the Eurostar and gone to Paris to find out about Katya – I would have begun delving into her life until I found the answers. But I had a different life now, so I went home for tea instead.

  ‘Mummy, Freddie pinched me on the tummy,’ Effie told me crossly as I walked through the door.

  ‘Effie’s a bum-bum,’ Freddie said, and pinched her again.

  She screwed up her face and burst into loud and dramatic tears.

  ‘Freddie,’ I pulled him away from his twin irritably, ‘that’s naughty. Say sorry to your sister.’

  ‘Don’t care,’ he said, and stuck his tongue out at me. His eyes were full of fear though; he knew he was pushing it.

  ‘You will care when I make you sit in your room until bedtime.’

  ‘I won’t. I’ll – I’ll sneak out again like Wolverine and then I’ll … ‘ he said, but his little voice wavered now. It was hard to be cross for long with such an angelic-looking child. He thought of the worst thing possible. ‘I’ll chop your tummy off.’

  ‘Really?’ I bit my lip. ‘That’s not very nice, is it?’

  ‘Where’s Daddy?’ Alicia said quietly from the doorway. My heart went out to her as the twins began squabbling again.

  ‘Come here, Lissie.’ I held my arms out, but she just scrunched up her anxious little face as the twins began to fight. ‘Get off me,’ Effie squawked as Jen appeared behind her and quickly assessed the situation. She gathered the terrible two up.

  ‘Bath-time, kiddiwinks,’ she said, and I shot her a grateful look.

  ‘Praise be for tolerant and childless godparents,’ I said, and she laughed. ‘I owe you one, Jen.’

  ‘You owe me more than one, lady,’ she said, and scooped the still sobbing Effie up. ‘Come on, you two. Shall we have bubbles?’

  ‘I can put my head under water. Is my goggles here?’ A now placid Freddie trotted off behind Jen. ‘Shall I show you?’

  ‘I said where’s Daddy?’ Alicia looked on the edge of tears herself.

  ‘He’s still away on his business trip, darling.’ I reached out my hand for her, but she ignored it, eyeing me suspiciously.

  ‘Why doesn’t he ring us up like normal?’

  ‘Because he – the phones don’t work where he is.’

  ‘Why didn’t he take his phone?’ she said, scowling. Her small forehead was knitted furiously: I wanted to smooth it out. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep the truth from Alicia. She might be young but she obviously sensed something was deeply wrong.

  ‘He did, darling. It’s just – you know, sometimes there is no reception. Mobile phones are funny old things.’ I imagined the police had confiscated it when they arrested him. ‘In the old days—’

  ‘He didn’t take his phone actually,’ she interrupted.

  ‘How do you know?’ I said tiredly, flopping on the sofa to take my shoes off. Guilt and anxiety and twenty questions were on the verge of making me tetchy.

  ‘Because it’s here.’ She held the small black phone up triumphantly. My heart flip-flopped.

  ‘Oh,’ I hedged. ‘He must have just forgotten it. Silly Daddy. Come here, baby.’ I grabbed her. ‘Come and give your mummy a cuddle.’

  I buried my face in my daughter’s slippery hair, savouring the warmth of her bony frame. The truth was, I was frightened. I had no idea how I was going to keep their world from collapsing completely – but I knew I had to keep trying.

  ‘What would you be achieving, trying to find out more about this girl?’ Jen asked, licking the last of the curry from her fingers. ‘So he slept with a dancer. I mean, it’s depressing, but are you really that surprised?’

  I was shocked by her words. ‘Yes, I am actually.’

  ‘Oh.’ She went quiet. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘But you’re not.’ I took a sip of my wine, wrinkling my nose against the unwelcome acidity. ‘So what are you saying? That my husband’s an old philanderer?’ I tried to laugh but somehow I just couldn’t manage it.

  ‘No, of course not.’ Jen still looked uncomfortable. ‘But given his lifestyle, the temptations, well—’

  ‘I get the picture.’ I held a hand up. ‘Enough said.’

  Perhaps I had been stupid, trusting and patient. The truth was I had been so immerse
d with the children in the past few years, there was little time for anything else. Infidelity hadn’t been one of my worries. For all his faults, it was drugs and drink that were James’s downfall, not women. But Liam’s harsh word was hard to erase.

  ‘Whore,’ went the whisper in my ears, over and over again until I wanted to plug them with my fingers like the children did.

  I tossed and turned on Jen’s lumpy sofa-bed, my body exhausted but my mind racing. The noisy city kept me awake, a helicopter beating the air overhead over and again, the sirens, blaring car stereos. I imagined Danny – God only knew where he was now. I scribbled him out in my head. I turned the pillow over, looking for the cool side. I thought of James confined in his cell.

  Suddenly I had a flash of inspiration and fumbled around in my overnight bag until I found James’s phone, switching it on. Of course it was dead. I scrabbled around for my charger and plugged it in.

  Frantically I scrolled through the text messages. Nothing.

  I searched for Katya’s name in the contacts. Nothing there either. I flung the phone back down in frustration.

  I desperately wanted to know who she was and yet I was terrified of finding out. I picked the phone up again and scrolled through the whole contacts list from the top. My heart stopped at Danny’s name. I thought about Danny apparently setting up the meeting for James. I stared at the number for a second. I didn’t recognise it; I was sure the last four digits were different from the one I’d had. For a second my finger hovered over the call button.

  I moved resolutely on.

  Finally – a number listed as ‘Angel’, with a London code. My hand shaking, I rang it. A girl answered, bored and foreign. ‘’Allo?’

  ‘Is this Katya’s house?’

  There was a long pause. ‘Who is this?’ the girl asked in heavily accented English. ‘What do you know about Katya?’

  ‘Is Katya there?’ I persisted.

  ‘Fuck off,’ came the retort as she hung up.

  I pulled on my jeans and slipped out of the flat, hailing the first taxi I saw. Arriving at the club, I asked the exotic doorgirl for Liam. With her tiny leather hotpants, glossy blonde bob and legs up to her armpits, she looked dubious about my casual clothes, my unmade-up face. I doubted she would know I was James’s wife, and I chose not to mention it now, but her eyes flickered uncertainly. She licked her pillowy lips and made a call.

  ‘Twice in one day,’ Liam tried to joke as he unclipped the red rope. ‘I’m honoured.’

  ‘No’, I said drily as I walked through, ‘you’re cornered.’

  He took me upstairs to the VIP bar where he ordered us champagne cocktails until he saw me pull a face.

  ‘I’m not drinking, thanks. Bad for the brain. I’ll have a Diet Coke.’

  He shrugged. ‘Your choice.’

  ‘You need to cut the crap, Liam,’ I said. ‘This is me, remember. Rose. And I’ve had enough of all the subterfuge. I need to know what the hell’s been going on.’

  Wryly he looked at me. ‘Yes, you. Award-winning and all that jazz.’ He sighed. ‘OK. What do you want to know?’

  ‘Everything.’ I swigged my Coke. ‘Money, girls, heroin, the lot.’

  ‘Heroin – first I’ve heard. Would swear on my mother’s life.’ Liam adored his mother. ‘Girls, James’s thing, not mine.’

  ‘But what kind of thing? He says Katya was a girlfriend. Lover.’

  ‘Not girlfriends, no. He loves you.’

  ‘That’s sweet, Liam, but we’ve gone beyond that point. He’s already admitted screwing her.’

  ‘Really?’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Yes, really.’

  ‘It all comes down to money, I think.’

  ‘Money?’

  Liam took a great swig of his drink, rubbed his head until his hair stood on end. ‘This is hard, Rose. This is utter shit.’

  ‘Just tell me.’

  ‘I feel like I’m grassing on my best mate.’

  ‘Well, don’t. To help James, I need to know the truth.’

  ‘He’d fucked up. I caught him … ‘ Pain crossed his face.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Embezzling.’

  ‘Embezzling?’ It was hard to hear him above the banging house music.

  ‘Yes. That’s why we fell out.’

  ‘I thought it was you.’

  ‘Me?’ He stared at me. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you were creeping around. And I heard you arguing. That day you had the Oasis tune in the studio. And because he said – you messed up once before, didn’t you?’

  ‘When?’

  ‘When the record label nearly went under.’

  ‘Is that what he said? I was trying to help him, Rose. He’d screwed up so badly.’

  ‘That’s why you took my kids?’ I said slowly. ‘For leverage.’

  ‘No.’ But his pale skin was blotchy now. ‘To shock him.’

  ‘To shock him? What about shocking me?’

  ‘I didn’t think it through. I was so angry with him for risking everything. I’m sorry, Rose.’

  ‘It’s a bit late for sorry, Liam!’ I tried to push down the fury again. I needed cold hard facts. ‘So where did the money go?’

  ‘He’s got extravagant tastes. He’s been gambling again. You know what he’s like.’

  ‘Gambling?’

  ‘And playing the stock market. Bad timing,’ he said ruefully. ‘Tens of thousands. More.’

  ‘More?’ I was aghast.

  ‘Spread-betting. Putting money into young ventures that went down. He’d been fucking up all over the show. And he’s been hit like the best of them by the bloody recession that’s coming. Look at the US. Nomad going down was the final straw. I think he lost a million that day, at least.’

  I remembered that spring day in the kitchen, Radio Four’s bleak announcement. The hidden bank statements; the rejected credit cards. How could I have been so blind? I’d stupidly just put it all down to James’s normal relaxed attitude.

  ‘But I thought you were doing so well.’

  ‘We are. But James – he’s been getting out of control. He just won’t listen, that’s the bloody problem.’ He waved a gurning DJ away who was trying to high-five him. ‘In a minute, mate. I mean, that party, Rose. How the fuck much did that cost?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Forlorn with misery, I’d hardly batted an eyelid as the costs mounted. I’d assumed James had it covered. I hadn’t cared, that much was true. I’d simply been limping through the days since Danny disappeared. ‘I thought the party was both your idea?’

  ‘No way. It was so stupid. We’d just lost a backer because he saw James get so fucked up at the club.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Too loud, too drunk. Snorting coke blatantly off the seats. He’d met that girl, Katya. There was something about her. Something that really bothered him. Like he was drawn to her but not; like some …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I really don’t know. It sounds stupid, Rose, and I hate to say it, but like some kind of fatal attraction. He wouldn’t talk about it but he started – all the drinking again. He said something about some grand scheme, some old friends. And then this big cheese pulled out. I was so pissed off.’

  ‘And that’s when Hadi Kattan got involved?’

  ‘If he did, I never saw a penny from him. I only ever met his son once when he came down with some friends for a night. I know James was trying to appease me with the promise of money, though.’

  Liam’s attention was distracted by something and I followed his gaze. Star appeared up on the podium opposite the VIP bar. In her thigh-high boots and slinky magenta dress she looked amazing; I saw Liam’s smile spread across his face. I’d never seen him like this before.

  ‘You’re really quite taken, aren’t you?’ I nudged him, and he blushed like an overgrown schoolboy.

  ‘Guess so.’ He took my hand. ‘God, Rose, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I was so shite earlier. I was just hungover and—’

  ‘And embarrassed,�
� I finished for him.

  ‘I s’pose. Look, let me sort you out some cash. Give me your account details, I’ll get it transferred.’

  He looked round at the jumping crowd beneath us, boys whistling, girls spinning, everyone sweaty and ecstatic as the music throbbed through the packed club. I thought of that night in Oxford lifetimes ago, the night I had first had sex with James, the night our toxic relationship really began, the music banging through my body in a way I had never known. I felt so tired now – like I’d never washed the guilt away, the dirt of that first night.

  ‘I’d appreciate it, Liam,’ I said quietly. ‘I really would. Just till I get sorted.’

  ‘And you will, my lovely, I know you will. And James will be just fine.’

  I slipped off the stool. ‘And Katya?’

  He sighed. ‘I’ll think on it, Rose, I promise. See if I can come up with some info.’

  As Liam stood to hug me, my eye was caught by a couple behind him at the bar. The blond boy from the party, sweaty pale shirt undone almost to his waist, clinging to him like a second skin, arm draped round a young black girl in slashed leggings. He raised an indolent hand to Liam and then he caught my eye. We gazed at each other for a moment, and then, bored, he leaned down to kiss his companion’s glossy pout, his lashes sweeping down to veil his eyes.

  ‘Who is that?’ I said, my heart racing suddenly.

  Liam raised a hand back. ‘That’s Charlie. He was at your party.’

  ‘Yeah, I recognise him. Charlie who?’

  ‘James knows him. Charlie Higham. He’s a right little toerag. Trust-funded up to the hilt. Got all the girls falling at his feet.’

  I stared at the fine-boned face, the dyed blond hair falling just like his elder brother’s had as slowly he kissed the girl who clung so hard to him. I heard a rushing in my ears. I saw the bed in that hotel room, the carnage around it. I felt dizzy and sick. This could be no coincidence. I had to get out of there immediately.

  I walked back to Jen’s flat. I needed to clear my head desperately after the heat and noise of the club, after Liam’s words. Nothing made sense: no one was being completely straight with me, not even Liam. I had to get back to see James, to make him tell me the truth.