Nina Todd Has Gone

by Lesley Glaister

  He got up and pulled on his jeans. I heard him in the shower-room, the toilet flushing and then the bang of the outside door. I got up, put on his shirt and tiptoed across the cold floor to the window. He was standing at the top of the slope staring across at the sea. You could hear the quiet steady roar of waves. The sun had gone and the sea and sky were the same silky grey. A bird cried out, probably an owl. Owls are not so small and scratchy. Maybe I could become an expert on owls. He stood there staring and he must have been freezing with his feet bare and no shirt. I was freezing, my feet gritty with mud from the floor. I got back into the bed, messy and damp but still warm, and I switched on the lamp. Eventually Charlie came back in and sat on the edge of the bed.

  ‘Look.’ He cleared his throat. ‘This doesn’t feel right, does it?’

  ‘Of course it doesn’t,’ I said. I put my hand out to him. ‘Charlie, you’re grieving. Nothing will feel right, not for a while.’

  I heard the breath suck into his lungs. He shivered.

  ‘Get back in,’ I said, ‘I’ll warm you up.’

  He didn’t move. ‘I mean you being here.’

  ‘I know that,’ I said. ‘I’m going back.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m telling you first this time,’ I said. ‘See, I can learn. I’ve got to go back and sort things out, my job and everything. And then … I don’t know … Get in, you’re shivering.’

  He took off his jeans. ‘I’ll get in the top,’ he said. ‘We’ll both sleep better.’

  ‘But we’re not going to sleep yet!’ I said. ‘Come on.’ I held the duvet up and he lay down with me. His feet were like wet ice. He turned over and I spooned myself round him, tucked my knee between his thighs.

  ‘When are you leaving?’ he asked.

  ‘Tomorrow if I can. Hope Ruth’s not too mad at me. I’ll do breakfasts first. Do you think she’ll ever have me back?’

  ‘Dunno.’ He was quiet, then said, ‘Nina, do you know that Rupert guy from somewhere?’

  My heart made a sudden painful scramble, loud enough for him to hear. ‘What?’

  He waited.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Nina …’

  ‘What? We chatted quite a bit while we were walking,’ I said, ‘so I got to know him a bit.’ I was talking too fast. ‘Hey, he and Toni were getting on well, I wonder if they—’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He’s too smooth. A bit weird, I thought. There’s something about him … he’s sort of … implausible.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Implausible.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Hush-hush!’ he said sarcastically.

  ‘Toni said she wouldn’t kick him out of bed,’ I said.

  ‘Did she? Oh well, there you go then.’

  My heart was calming down. ‘Warm now?’

  ‘Mmmm.’

  We lay quietly for a while and then, just as I was starting to drowse, he pulled himself up.

  ‘I’ll get in the top before she comes in.’

  ‘She wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘Still.’ His chilly penis brushed my thigh as he got out. I watched his legs go up the ladder. The bunk above me creaked and groaned as he wrestled himself into a comfortable position. I switched off the light.

  I was almost asleep before Toni came in. I heard her brushing her teeth and the toilet flush. She opened the door quietly, creeping, saying nothing. She brought with her the raw smell of the night. In the watery light I could see her strip off her jeans and sweater. There was a crackle as she ripped the elastic band from her hair. She put her head down to shake it out and the air stirred with a faint smell of smoke. She climbed the ladder, long legs bare. I couldn’t say if Charlie was awake.

  Chapter 36

  ^

  I was so pleased with the progress, and tired out from the wind, that I lay on my bed and took forty winks before I showered and went down. Karen was limping in and out of the dining room putting the bowls of food on the table but never deigning to give me a second glance. I sat down and talked to Toni, taking in the waves in her long hair and the scrubbed face, not a trace of make-up, you could see she was going for the natural look. There was obviously something going on between her and Charlie. You could sense the chemistry.

  Toni chatted away, laughing at her own jokes but in a way that made you smile too, infectious you might say, and she could certainly put away the beer. Afterwards, when the clearing up was done, she brought in a bottle of Scotch and four glasses and started quizzing me about what I did.

  ‘Hush-hush,’ I said, giving Karen a look to make her blush. Then I turned it on Toni and you could see the spark of interest starting up. It was like a normal gathering, the four of us, drinking and talking as if we’d known each other since the year dot – it was only Karen that spoilt the atmosphere, acting like a wet weekend. Toni gave Charlie one of those oh-deary-me looks as she took a swig of her whisky. Karen got up suddenly and called him as if he was a dog and he trotted out after her. It made me laugh, she was so obvious. Toni stared at me a minute and I stopped the laughing.

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘Why?’

  She shrugged, finished her drink and got up.

  ‘Fancy a walk?’ she said. ‘The wind’s dropped.’

  To tell you the truth, I’d had enough fresh air to last me a lifetime but I went and got my coat. We walked fast down the lane, her legs nearly as long as mine. Though it was late it wasn’t properly dark yet, but very shadowy with birds floating on the water as if they were asleep. The edges of the waves showed up very white against the sand. She walked close and the ends of her hair flicked against my face.

  ‘Fancy a smoke?’ she said.

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Shame. Nice wee bit of grass,’ she said and I was taken aback, not thinking her the druggy type. I was disappointed, thinking better of her than that.

  ‘Don’t mind me,’ I said.

  We sat together on a rock while she puffed away. She put her head on my shoulder.

  ‘Just look at that moon,’ she said, ‘the way it shines on the sea.’

  I looked up and along with the thin bit of moon I saw stars coming through as the sky got darker, more and more until I felt dizzy. I wondered if I’d been affected by her smoke. I looked down at the waves. I’d never watched the way a wave unrolls before like something coming more and more undone.

  ‘So, what’s with you and Nina?’ she said.

  I took a breath then, thinking do not leap in, thinking how Rupert would deal with this.

  ‘I don’t know her from Adam,’ I said.

  ‘If you say so,’ she said.

  ‘Why should I?’

  She finished off her joint and ground the end into the sand. ‘Don’t you fancy her?’ she said.

  ‘Not my type.’

  ‘What is?’ she said but I didn’t answer that. We sat without speaking for a while, hearing the sea and the sound of something wild calling out or it might have been a sheep. I thought, this is about as far from Mexico as I will ever get.

  ‘What about you and Charlie then?’ I said in the end.

  ‘You noticed.’ She laughed.

  ‘A bit of chemistry?’

  ‘Aye,’ she said, ‘yeah, but then Nina turns up.’ She sounded quite choked up but pulled herself together. ‘You can’t win them all.’

  We walked back and she chatted on and told me a thing or two of great interest. How she and Charlie had met the year before and had what she termed a fling. They’d lived far apart, her in Inverness, him in Sheffield, but kept in touch and had a plan to meet up at North Ronaldsay and see where it went, is how she put it. This was in the offing when he met Karen and before he’d had a chance to blink she’d got her feet under the table and Toni was dropped like a hot potato.

  We stopped outside the byre, a kind of barn where the workers slept, and heard the unmistakable sound of sex. Toni gave a sort of
gasp. ‘Fucking hell,’ she said and stomped off. I followed her in and we got stuck into the whisky. It was the shock of hearing them together, I reckon, that led her into telling me the rest.

  ‘I don’t know what the fuck he’s up to,’ she said, pouring the whisky and knocking hers back. ‘After everything he said. And considering what he knows about her.’

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘He’s meant to be finished with her – though you wouldn’t think it from that carry on, would you?’ She laughed in that way that shows no amusement in the least.

  I reached for the bottle to top her up. ‘What does he know?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  She looked at me this level way, not like your usual girl. You could tell she was a straightforward type even with the drink inside her and the smoke. ‘You won’t go blethering?’

  ‘Mum’s the word,’ I said and that made her laugh though you could see her eyes were sad and stoned-looking.

  ‘See, he found something out. Something about her. Something big. No, I shouldn’t say.’ She clammed up for a bit then, staring into her glass.

  ‘Like an affair?’ I said.

  ‘Bigger than that,’ she said.

  I kept hold of the Rupert cool, watching my face in the glass, counting my breaths until she spoke again.

  ‘Promise?’ she said. ‘Only I feel like I’ll explode if I don’t tell someone.’

  I gave her a look as if to say it was no odds to me.

  ‘Well, she had a wee accident and was in the hospital and while he was looking for stuff to take in to her he found something.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘A bit of paper.’ She leant forward and whispered though there was no one to hear. ‘She’s not who she says she is and … she was in prison, he doesn’t know what for but it must have been big … She was in for life.’

  ‘Life?’

  ‘Life.’ She sat back and gave me a long look of significance.

  ‘Does she know he knows?’ I said.

  She shook her head. ‘He can’t bring himself to tell her. See, he was wanting to finish with her anyway but …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘He thinks she’s a wee bit …’ She pulled a face. ‘Well he’s worried what she might do but he should just come straight out with it, don’t you think? The longer it goes on the worse it’ll be, for both of them. I think it’s cruel. It’s being kind to be cruel.’ She nearly spat that and then shut up. We sat there for a while longer and she knocked back another drink, then she yawned. ‘Well, I reckon they’ll have finished by now,’ she said. ‘Night night.’

  My plane was in two days’ time. The plan was to get Karen on it with me, if there was room, or else get her booked on as soon as possible and I’d be at the airport to meet her. She was not getting out of my orbit again in a hurry. I went down to breakfast ready to tell her my plan. I didn’t see her but it wasn’t until breakfast was all cleared away and no sight or sound that alarm bells began to ring.

  I went into the kitchen – it’s so free and easy anyone can go in there at any time – and asked the woman in charge where she was.

  She looked up from the paperwork she was doing on the table. ‘Bruno had to fly off to Kirkwall with a prem labour this morning. Didn’t you hear the plane? She took a lift with him.’

  ‘She’s gone?’

  ‘She has that. And left us in the lurch.’ She frowned. ‘Why? Do you know her?’

  Chapter 37

  *

  I unlocked the door and stepped inside. I’d only been away for a few days but already the air in the hall smelt thick and stale. I put down my bag and stood listening. Nothing. I picked up the pile of letters and catalogues from the doormat. Fay got a lot of junk: Damart; Lakeland; free this, free that. I wonder how much mail is sent to the dead each day?

  It was too quiet. There was no cheeping coming from the kitchen. Charlie Two should have been cheeping. I opened the door and went in. I went to the cage and he was on its bottom. I thought he was dead. His wings were a quite beautiful blue. I forced myself to put my hand into the cage and lift him out, and to my relief he was alive. He struggled feebly, pecked at my finger and opened his beak but no sound came. Cool and light, he just fitted the palm of my hand. ‘I’ll save him,’ I said to Fay or to the air.

  I found an eye-dropper and put a slosh of brandy in a glass. I turned him on to his back. His underside was white and fluffy and round his bottom the feathers were stuck together with droppings. I forced his beak open with the tip of the dropper and squeezed a drip of brandy into his mouth. The effect was amazing. He sneezed and shook his head. I got one more drip in but he was struggling more strongly now. I let him go and he hopped on to the table. Galvanised, I thought. I’d heard of medicinal purposes but this was ridiculous.

  There was a packet of Trill on the table. I was sure I hadn’t left it there; still, I tipped some out and he started to peck at it, swaying drunkenly. Soon the only sound in the kitchen was his beak busily shucking the seeds. And there he was. A little blue bird brought back from the brink. Good as new.

  Something soft and painful opened inside me like a bud. I drank the rest of the brandy myself and then had another slug for good measure. It was warming, certainly medicinal. I filled the kettle, took off my coat and looked through the post again. Amongst the junk were a couple of sympathy cards for Charlie – a spray of roses, a misty view – and there was a good-luck card to me from Christine. Good luck? I couldn’t think what she meant. Good luck for what? On the front of the card was a cute cat sitting in a horseshoe. Inside she’d written: Dear Nina, Sorry you went off without a send-off. Get in touch and we’ll go for a drink? Chrisxxx

  Which meant, I guess, that I’d been sacked.

  The bread in the bin was mouldy. The milk smelt bad, the lettuce in the bottom of the fridge had turned to mush. Charlie Two flapped back to his cage. I filled his feeders with seed and gave him fresh water. He was unsteady on his perch, maybe drunk. I wondered if I should do him a little coffee. He started a sudden raucous cheeping and then said, ‘Charlie-boy. Davy.’ I put the cover over his cage to let him sleep it off. I would have to give him to someone. Christine? If she’d look after him till I’d got everything sorted out with Rupert, till Charlie and I were settled again. He could hardly object to that.

  I saw in the mirror that the colour was already wearing off my hair. It was all pale and faded at the roots. The salon would still be open. I could have got my money back but I was too weary – early plane, all the turbulence and the long views of the islands like maps in the blue and green, then airports, trains; tedious waits and changes. Amazing that after all that it was still only four o’clock.

  I’d been lucky that morning, if you can call it lucky. Charlie and I had gone over to the kitchen early to make a start on breakfasts and Bruno had already been there, slurping down a coffee. He’d been called out to a woman in premature labour and had to fly with her to Aberdeen. I asked if I could have a lift. Charlie had looked at me with surprise. ‘Sure,’ Bruno had said, ‘but you’ll have to get a move on.’ So I’d been able to leave without having to see Rupert – though I knew he’d be with me soon enough. And without having to face Ruth. It was a kind of good luck – but I was left with a sensation inside me like something ruined.

  As well as all the junk and cards there was the letter from Charlie. It must have arrived the day I’d left. Whatever it said would be out of date now we’d been together again. I didn’t want to know what it said. I tore it up and chucked it in the bin with all Fay’s junk: You’ve Already Won a Valuable Prize; Free Oven Chips For Life.

  I phoned work praying that Christine would answer but it was a new voice: ‘Angela speaking, how may I help you?’ My replacement. You see how easily you can be replaced? I asked if I could speak to Christine and she said, ‘May I ask who’s calling?’ Mind your own business, I thought. ‘Nina,’ I said.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘could you repeat that?’

>   ‘Nina,’ I said so loudly that I startled the budgie.

  ‘Oh!’ she said, voice sharpening out of its telephone manner. ‘Nina who was here before me? You left loads of stuff … hand-cream and that.’

  ‘Keep it,’ I said. ‘Can I speak to Christine?’

  ‘Ta very much,’ she said, ‘and there’s a pair of tights. Not my normal shade but I’ll put you through.’

  ‘Nina!’ Christine sounded like she’d won the jackpot. ‘Have a nice time? Get my card?’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Meet me for a drink?’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Don’t tell anyone.’

  I met her in a wine bar on the other side of town, away from anywhere people from work might go. She was already sitting at a table on her own, half a glass of white wine in front of her. When she saw me, she rose from her seat as if she was about to give me a kiss.

  ‘White or red?’ she said.

  I hadn’t meant to drink, but her wine looked refreshing in its huge glass. I let her buy me one and ordered some stir-fried prawns and noodles. I was starving. She couldn’t eat because of her diet. She slid a Slim. Fast bar out of her bag and nibbled at it. I told her about North Ronaldsay and the seals; she filled me in about my replacement.

  ‘Angie’s not a patch on you,’ she said. ‘Well she’s all right. She said you said she could have your hand-cream, is that right?’

  My meal arrived on a gigantic white plate, a mound of food big enough for five. ‘Want some?’ I said.

  ‘I shouldn’t.’

  ‘Soak up the wine. Or you’ll get drunk,’ I suggested and a smile bloomed on her face.

  ‘You’re right. I better had.’ She wobbled off on her heels to get a fork. I shovelled some of the noodles and a rubbery prawn into my mouth. I was so hungry. Then I saw a shape go past the window that looked like Rupert and although it couldn’t be him, he wouldn’t be back till tomorrow, my stomach scrunched miserably round the food and I put down my fork.

  ‘Yum.’ Christine took a mouthful of noodles and chewed with her eyes closed. ‘Spicy,’ she said.