by Nina Manning
A sleek black car pulled up outside the house, rendering my doubts futile. It was time to go to work.
I stepped outside and Damian went to take a few steps forward then appeared to change his mind.
‘Ok, then, see you Saturday.’ As he walked back into the house he turned back as though he was going to say something. I hovered for a split second, willing him to say something profound, to make it all better, to change the dynamics, the situation. Every awkward scenario and angry comment could be erased in a matter of seconds, with one or two words. I thought about the underwear in the suitcase; already I felt seedy, not knowing what it was I really wanted and if something Damian was or wasn’t about to say could make any difference to anything right now.
He remained silent and stood looking at the car with a wounded expression. I was no longer able to decipher what he wanted.
I sat in the car and the smooth journey lulled me into a snooze. I had woken every hour last night, so many little things were bothering me. As I sat still, resting my eyes, I heard my phone ping and I remembered when Damian and I were dating, pre-kids, when we would text all the time and every message that came through was almost certainly going to be from him and if it wasn’t then disappointment would take hold and linger until he finally came through. But something told me this wasn’t a message from Damian, I felt the sensation that it was delivering something unsavoury.
I opened my handbag and pulled out my mobile, sighing as I did. The endless invasion of technology was wearing me down. I opened the cover and hit the text messages.
How does it feel after all this time, knowing what you did?
I slammed the phone cover shut. I wasn’t going to play this game any more. After this trip I would be confronting them head on.
My phone beeped again and this time it was Damian. So soon after leaving the house, that was something he would have done years ago and not something he had done of late. His text simply read:
Safe journey
Damian knew I wasn’t a great flyer. I could see there was some sort of innocence behind the message, but anyone who wished you a safe trip when you were about to get on a plane was not really thinking about what they were saying at all.
The car arrived at the airport and I thanked the driver profusely, realising that in all that time in the car I hadn’t uttered a word to him. I rushed my way through check in and into the departures area and headed for the business class lounge where Mason had said to meet him. I realised I was sweating slightly and pulled in a deep breath before opening the door to the lounge. As I did, there was Mason, sat behind a newspaper stretched out in front of him, one leg casually crossed over the other. His silver trousers revealed the black socks underneath which clearly displayed a tiny white Gucci logo.
As he heard the door open, he hurriedly put his paper down and strode to the door to relieve me of my hand luggage, then took my arm and escorted me over to the bar.
‘Come on, girl, let’s get you a drink.’
I laughed in spite of myself. ‘But it’s only 11 a.m.’
‘That, my dear, is no excuse.’ Mason squeezed my arm. ‘I reckon these guys could mix you something nice.’
‘Erm, Negroni?’ I asked tentatively.
Mason turned to the barman who had been waiting attentively, who then set to work quickly and efficiently.
‘Nervous flyer?’
I looked around anxiously. ‘Kind of.’
My gaze reached his and he gave me a kind smile.
‘Anyway, look, here comes your drink. Get it down you, girl. You’ll feel so much happier in a moment.’
The plane shook and shuddered as the mass of metal began to hurtle to top speed upon take off. I had hoped that the two Negronis I had drunk would have numbed the panic, but as I sat there and tried to control my breathing, I found I needed to look at my lap and visualise the kids there for extra distraction. Then I felt a hand rest on my arm and I looked up, startled, thinking it was the flight attendant. But it was Mason to my right. His calm face and soft touch made me feel instantly less stressed.
Once we were in flight, and the seat belt sound beeped, Mason simply removed his hand and took out his paper again.
A hostess arrived next to us with a bottle of champagne. Mason gave her his best smile. ‘No, thank you,’ he said. ‘I’m saving myself for later.’ The hostess tilted the bottle of champagne towards me.
‘Madam?’
‘What the hell, I’m on my holidays,’ I said, relieved take off was over.
Mason looked up with wide eyes. ‘Sort of, anyway,’ I laughed as she filled the champagne glass and handed it to me. Mason handed me a bottle of mineral water.
‘You will need to drink some of this too, or you’ll know about it later.’ Then he handed me a small file of A4 papers.
‘This is the schedule for the next few days. You will see I have managed to squeeze in a tiny bit of sightseeing but other than that it’s all work, I’m afraid.’ He raised his glass of water at me.
‘But don’t worry, there will be a bit of down time, some nice food and more of those Negronis you’re rather fond of.’ And he winked in a really endearing way and through my slight intoxication, I sensed something else in that smile and that wink which brought with it an urge that I wasn’t sure what to do with.
After touchdown we retrieved our bags from the carousel and took a cab to the hotel, twenty minutes from the centre of Liège.
‘Why so far away?’ I questioned Mason as we stepped out of another mode of transport. I felt so weary and the alcohol was wearing off. I needed to get to the bar, quickly.
‘This hotel is the best,’ Mason said frankly as he stood back to let the porter collect our luggage.
‘Well, yes, it’s gorgeous, but this is rather… remote. Are they woods?’ I looked beyond the beautifully lit hotel as the sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon.
‘Why? Fancy a hike later?’ Mason said, raising his eyes as he handed over a wad of euros to the taxi driver.
‘I didn’t bring my hiking boots,’ I said distractedly.
‘Never mind, it’s amazing what you can borrow here if you do fancy escaping. I find woods so enchanting, so full of mystery, don’t you?’ Mason stood looking towards the dense mass of trees and I stood next to him.
‘Anyway, shall we check in?’ He turned to me eagerly.
‘Yes, let’s,’ I said and followed him and the porter towards the majestic front entrance.
I watched Mason do his thing at the reception desk and I allowed my eyes to cast past him to the stretch of woods beyond. The sunless sky was already starting to feel greyer as the day crept to an end and I felt myself shudder at the darkness that shrouded the trees.
‘All set?’ Mason appeared next to me.
I smiled weakly.
‘Here’s your key. Our rooms are fairly close to each other, so if you need me for anything…’ As Mason handed me the card his finger grazed mine and the moment of intimacy shocked me, but I refused to look at him even though I could feel his eyes on me.
We headed for the lift, following a porter who carried our luggage.
The lift arrived on the second floor and we stepped out into another beautiful foyer with huge flower arrangements and exquisite ornaments.
The porter stopped outside a room and I did a double take at the number on the door.
‘This is your room, madam,’ the porter said with an accent I took to be French. I stared at the number on the door again, my feet were rooted to the spot.
‘Room 2461, madam,’ the porter said, looking at me.
‘Frankie, are you ok? Do you need some help getting in?’ Mason’s voice filtered through.
‘I…’ I couldn’t speak, my throat was closing up. I couldn’t breathe.
I took a deep breath, swallowed and said, ‘Why are the rooms in the thousands when there are only about 150 rooms in the hotel?’
The porter looked perturbed, so Mason began to speak in fluent French.
The porter listened and then replied, Mason said something else in French and looked at me.
‘This is a chain of three hotels and they are all on the same system, the rooms carry on in numerical order from hotel to hotel. Are you ok?’
I laughed nervously, ‘Of course, I just thought it was a bit weird.’
Mason eyed me curiously.
‘Okay. Shall I meet you back in the foyer in a couple of hours?’ I said with all the enthusiasm I could muster, even though my mouth was so dry I could barely speak.
Mason assessed me for a second longer. ‘Sure. I’ll make dinner reservations. But meet me in the bar at six. Ok?’
‘Great,’ I said.
‘Frankie?’
‘Uh huh?’ I was fiddling with my key, trying to get into the room.
‘Just hold it against the door, like this.’ Mason took hold of my wrist so the key was upright.
‘Oh yeah, sorry, it’s been a while since I used one of these things.’ I held the key at the handle and the door made a loud click, indicating it had unlocked.
The porter had long gone but I was fine carrying my one small case and my handbag into the room.
I was barely able to acknowledge the space and simplistic luxury of the room. I dropped my handbag and case on the floor as the door clicked shut and fell onto the super king size bed, which completely cocooned my body as I lay there.
Thoughts flooded my mind. Was this some sort of joke, a weird coincidence? All I could see was that number over and over in my head. On the door of the room and also all those years ago.
24
August 1998
There was no air tonight, the barn was packed full of bodies. At the back was metal sheeting acting as a protective wall; it had been spray painted with all sorts of images – flowers, smiley faces and a huge man with dreads, smoking a spliff that was almost half the size of the wall. There was a block of hay bales and a few people were gathered on them sitting, and a few were lying down. The decks were next to them and two speakers on either side so huge I could feel the bass vibrating in my chest.
Todd held my hand, there were lights rotating, blue, red, green – Todd’s face was illuminated each time the light passed. I could feel the heat from his hand and every now and again he squeezed mine for no reason. The first time he did it I looked up and tried to ask him why over the music but he just smiled a hazy eyed smile. I knew he had taken something and it was taking effect.
Todd guided me over to the hay bales and we sat down.
He took a small bag of white powder out of his pocket and demonstrated what to do by sticking his finger in the powder and rubbing it around his gums. He had a bottle of beer and took a long gulp of it. He handed me the packet of white powder, nodded encouragingly with that sloppy smile and I dipped the tip of my index finger in until it was coated with the white powder. I took one more glance at Todd for reassurance and then did as he had demonstrated. He handed me his beer to take away the bitter taste.
Todd smiled at me and nodded for me to take more, but I handed him the bag back.
‘I’m fine,’ I mouthed.
Todd put it back in his pocket and got up and walked over to the bar. I sat and looked at the bodies floating about the barn, I saw Reese and Kiefer, and Reese’s friends, all dancing and laughing. Through the sea of people, I was sure Kiefer had not seen what Todd and I had taken. Todd came back with a beer for me. I took a sip and just as I put it to my lips, I felt the electric pulse of the drug. It was so unfamiliar, so new to me. I turned and smiled at Todd, and he pulled me into an embrace. I took another sip and I knew all I needed to do was dance. I stood up and pushed my way through the crowds to the centre of the dance floor, pulling Todd behind me. The music seemed to move in time with us and I felt like I wanted to break free and run through the fields. I tilted my head back and felt the warm summer night air filling the barn and the heat and sweat from the bodies next to me.
A few hours later I was coming down from the drug. My mouth was dry and making a small robotic movement. I sipped more beer and then bought a vodka and Coke. At the bar I could see Nancy was there in a full embrace and snog with Minty. I thought about how Todd and I had yet to cement anything, even talk about it. I didn’t know how he felt about me, I was seven years younger than him. He probably only saw me as a child. Yet why had I always felt something more?
I felt a hand around my waist. I knew it was him.
‘Come on,’ he whispered, sounding more sober and together than I had heard him all night.
I turned and he put his arm around me so I was almost cocooned within him, so much so that we were able to walk straight past Kiefer completely unnoticed. I took a moment to steal a glance at him as we passed and saw how happy he was then with Reese and his friends, hands in the air, dancing to the music.
Once outside, Todd took my hand and pulled me to the side of the barn. I had imagined this scenario a hundred times and now his soft warm lips were on mine, exactly as I had hoped they would be. I melted into his embrace. When I felt him pull away I opened my eyes and he was looking down at me and smiling. He took my hand and we walked away, the sound of the heavy bass fading into the night.
25
Now
I let the hot water from the shower envelop me and stood there for as long as possible. I had napped for maybe five minutes, but it was enough to get me through the night with Mason. Truth was, I shouldn’t have drunk the Negroni and champagne. That had tipped me over the edge. I was still reeling from the fact that the room bore the number that haunted me from my past and I was struggling to comprehend how that could be a coincidence. Was it possible that Mason had known somehow, that bringing me here was a way to make me feel vulnerable?
I dressed in a simple black knee length dress with red heels. I walked out of the door and stood and looked at the number once more, shook my head in disbelief and headed down to the bar.
Mason was already there with a bottle of champagne chilling on ice next to him. I felt for a moment as though I wanted to turn and run, but where would I run to? I looked through the masses of windows in the bar and could just about make out the density of the woods.
Mason looked up as I arrived next to him.
‘Tell me you are suitably refreshed because I am told this is the best champagne in Belgium and I cannot possibly drink it all alone.’
I smiled and took a seat on a stool. He was wearing a white shirt, open at the neck, with a crisp grey suit jacket and trousers. He smelt freshly showered, of mint and lemons.
‘Good rest?’ I watched Mason look me and up and down. ‘You look very nice,’ he said softly.
‘Thanks. Yes. I feel much better. You?’
Mason popped an olive in his mouth. ‘Yes, I sat in my boxers and watched the sport channel. It was lovely, actually.’
‘Okay, thanks for that.’
‘Oh, sorry, I forgot where I was for a second.’ Mason let out a small laugh. Then he turned to me. ‘Sorry, Frankie, I didn’t mean to imprint that image on your mind.’
‘It’s okay. It’s good that you’re relaxed. You work hard.’ I took a long sip of champagne.
Mason nodded. ‘Yes, I do.’
I picked up an olive and examined its size and shape before popping it in my mouth.
‘So, what do you do for down time? I take it you’re not a sport channel kinda girl? This isn’t work time now so feel free to talk about you. What are your favourite foods? Who inspires you? What do you want to achieve, what’s your biggest regret?’
My heart pounded at the word regret. I sat open mouthed, wanting to speak. I wanted to tell him that my biggest regret happened twenty years ago and I would do anything to go back and change the past.
‘Come on, Frankie, don’t go all agog on me now. Details make my job a whole lot easier, besides, I like to know the intricacies of everyone. And…’ he paused to tap the side of his head. ‘I have a very good memory.’ Mason smiled and his piercing blue eyes fixed right on me.
/> I sat and thought back to that day in his office when he offered me the prosecco and I had too much to drink before I headed down the pub. Had I said too much then?
‘Don’t look so horrified. I just want to know the little things, stuff that will make a difference when we’re working together. I want to know if you have a phobia of spiders or you won’t tip a waiter if the service was poor but it wasn’t necessarily their fault?’
‘So, fairly specific,’ I laughed.
‘Yeah, maybe.’ Mason ate another olive. ‘But you may have noticed, I’m not like normal bosses, this is how I keep my staff.’
‘That’s because you get them drunk on a Friday and they forget how awful you are all weekend until Monday.’
‘Ha! Yes, you’ve got me, how many employers have you had that have done that for you? Staff are the most important aspect of the business and if I can’t look after you guys to the best of my ability then who will look after my business, hey? I can’t run this thing on my own. I was treated horrifically in jobs as a young lad, I just couldn’t see that working for me as an employer. What has worked is that if I give all those little extras to my staff, like good coffee and breakfast, subsidised lunches and a few free drinks at the local pub after a long hard week, I have found that I have only lost two employees in three years. And one of those was because she had a baby and decided she loved him more than my croissants.’