The Vanishing Point

by McDermid, Val

  As well as the pics of Jimmy, there were several shots of Leanne looking weirdly similar to Scarlett. I could only tell the difference because I was looking for it. ‘It doesn’t confuse him? With her looking so much like you? Because I have to tell you, Scarlett, the resemblance is uncanny.’

  She swallowed a mouthful of pasta, shaking her head. ‘Doesn’t seem to. If we’re both in the room he heads for me. I read somewhere that they go by smell as much as by sight. Obviously I smell different from Leanne.’ She grinned. ‘That’ll be the smelly Irish tinker in her.’ She held her hands up defensively when she saw the look on my face. ‘I’m only winding you up,’ she said. ‘You’re so easy, Steph.’

  ‘And you’re so bad. It’s great that Jimmy’s OK with Leanne. What about Joshu?’

  ‘He seems pretty chilled about it all. It means he gets to go out with a woman on his arm when he’s not actually working. And because we’re not arguing all the time, things between us got a bit sweeter. Which means it’s good all round. All I got to do is make sure nobody susses it out.’

  ‘How long are you planning on keeping this up?’

  Scarlett frowned at her food, poking it with her spoon as if she expected it to develop independent life. ‘Obviously, not for ever.’

  ‘Obviously. But do you have some sort of timescale in mind? Is there a master plan?’

  She gave me a sharp look. ‘Are you taking the piss?’

  ‘No, no way. If I’ve learned one thing about you, it’s your capacity to wrong-foot me. The predictable thing here would be for you to be clueless about the endgame. But I’ve spent enough time with you now to know that you wouldn’t have set the ball rolling without having a pretty good idea where you want it to end up. I shouldn’t have said, “Is there a master plan?” I should have said, “What’s the master plan?”’

  Scarlett ate another mouthful of pasta. Then another. ‘Sort of,’ she said eventually.

  ‘Do you want to share it? Or is it going to be another one of your bloody surprises?’

  ‘I want to get my TV show established. It’s time to show people the truth. That there’s more to me than they think. And when that begins to dawn on them, I’ll get Leanne to start tapering off the night life.’ She gave me the familiar piratical grin. ‘Then you can write a load of articles about how I’m a new woman, a reformed character. How motherhood transformed me. I’ll be so boring the paps might just decide to leave me alone.’

  ‘And what’s going to happen to Leanne?’

  ‘I’ve bought her a nice place in Spain, up in the mountains.

  There’s a big expat community up there. The property’s got a pool house, she can set up a nail boutique there. Her own little business. Obviously, she’ll have to go back to being brunette, maybe cut her hair short.’ She shrugged.

  There was a ruthlessness to Scarlett’s planning that I almost admired. But not quite. I pushed my plate away. ‘And you think she’ll settle for that?’

  ‘Why not? A haircut and a dye job? It’s not much of a price to pay for being well set up at her age.’

  ‘I meant, giving up the party life. From what I’ve seen of Leanne, it’s meat and drink to her. She’s found her calling, Scarlett. Being out on the tiles at somebody else’s expense is her vocation. Why would she cheerfully give up all that fun for the expats up in the mountains in Spain?’

  Scarlett’s surly expression wouldn’t have been out of place on a teenager. ‘Because that’s the deal. She knew when she took it on that it was only temporary. And she’s OK with that.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ I said, not meaning it.

  As it turned out, I was right about Leanne creating problems. Only they weren’t the problems I’d expected.

  Three weeks later, I turned up at the hacienda without phoning ahead. I’d been up in Suffolk, being interviewed by a comedienne looking for someone to write her memoir of fifty years in the laughter game (her pitch, not mine . . .) and we’d wrapped up earlier than I’d anticipated. Mostly because I’d loathed the woman within five minutes of meeting her and I couldn’t be bothered to push for the job. Scarlett’s memoir was still selling well in the paperback charts and the rowing book was due out soon, so cashflow wasn’t an issue. And Maggie had tipped me the wink about a retail entrepreneur who wanted to write a book about leadership which sounded a lot more interesting.

  So I’d escaped early from the suffocating knick-knack heaven inhabited by the comedienne. Rather than head straight home, I decided to call on Jimmy and his harem. I was out of luck, however. Marina had taken him to a toddler playgroup for the afternoon, and Scarlett was having a final wardrobe fitting for Real Life TV. Joshu was somewhere. Leanne had no idea where except that it wasn’t there. She was home alone and I was surprised by the effusiveness of her greeting. Don’t get me wrong, we’d always got on fine. But today she seemed both relieved and pleased that she had me to herself.

  Leanne made coffee and raked in the cupboard for biscuits. ‘I’m glad you stopped in,’ she said. She produced a box of organic wholemeal biscuits in the shape of gingerbread men. ‘Do you want one of these? Jimmy loves them.’ She looked dubious.

  ‘I’m OK,’ I said. ‘How’s things?’

  ‘Well, that’s just it,’ she said, settling in with the air of a woman who has much to impart and generations of imparting behind her. ‘On the face of it, everything’s hunky-dory. I’m getting my face in the papers, Scarlett’s getting her beauty sleep and nobody suspects a thing.’

  ‘But . . . ? I’m hearing a “but” in there.’

  Leanne fiddled with the handle of her mug. ‘Can we go outside? I’m gagging for a fag and Scarlett doesn’t like us smoking in the house. With Jimmy, you know?’

  I followed her out into the garden. Weak sunlight made us both look anaemic and there was no heat in it. But it was better than being shut indoors with Leanne’s cigarette smoke. We hunkered down on a couple of curved wooden benches that looked across a pond where bored goldfish pottered around among the water lilies. I wondered whether it should be fenced off now Jimmy was mobile.

  ‘Not that Joshu pays any attention,’ Leanne continued. ‘He smokes whatever he likes, wherever he likes. And Scarlett lets him get away with it. She spoils Joshu more than she spoils Jimmy.’

  ‘Maybe that’s because Jimmy’s still young enough to learn.’

  Leanne squinted through the smoke at me. ‘You’re not that keen on Joshu, are you?’

  I shrugged. ‘He wouldn’t be my choice of a life partner. But Scarlett obviously sees something in him that I’m missing.’

  Leanne sipped at her cigarette like she didn’t really mean it. ‘That’s kind of my problem,’ she said.

  ‘Has he been coming on to you?’ It wasn’t much of a reach.

  ‘No. He wouldn’t dare. I made that totally clear right from the off. When Scarlett first came up with the idea, we all sat down and thrashed it out. We have to, like, hold hands and have the odd kiss for the cameras. But I told him, any more than that, any tongues, any hands where they shouldn’t be and I’d cut his cock off. And Scarlett said she’d have his balls for earrings. When she does put her foot down, she can be well scary.’

  ‘So he’s been a good boy?’

  ‘With me, yeah.’ She dropped her half-smoked cigarette and ground it out. ‘Trouble is, I’m not the only woman out there, if you get my drift?’

  I closed my eyes momentarily. I got her drift, in spades. What I wanted to know was how bad things were. ‘Tell me what you know. And then we’ll figure out what’s the best way to go,’ I said.

  Leanne’s face crumpled in relief. She might look spookily like her cousin, but she had none of the iron in the soul that had lifted Scarlett out of the shit and into the glitz. What she wanted was to hand off responsibility for what she knew, and I was the lucky patsy. ‘When we’re out, we’re always in the VIP areas, yeah? You see a lot of the same faces. A lot of them are total slappers on the make. Once or twice, I noticed women start
ing to come over to Joshu then noticing me and backing off. I reckoned it was because they saw I was with him and realised he was spoken for. Then it dawned on me that they couldn’t not know he was spoken for, if you get my meaning?’

  I nodded. Women like that read the red-tops and the slag mags as religiously as a nun reads her missal. It’s their guide to who’s in and who’s out, who’s single and who’s taken, who’s irredeemably fucked up and who’s still worth a go. They’d have read all about the wedding and the baby and the game of happy families being played out at the hacienda. They’d know Joshu was off limits.

  Unless of course they had reason to know otherwise.

  ‘That must have made you wonder.’

  ‘You could say that. It made me start watching him a lot more closely. I cut back my drinking a bit, you know? Just to stay more alert, like. Tried to fade into the background. And I started to think that some of those slags were a bit too touchy-feely with him, if you catch my drift? Too much flirting. Too much touching. It’s hard to explain. Hard to pin down. But it’s the way you are with somebody you’ve slept with, as opposed to somebody you just fancy. Or somebody you’re pals with. Do you know what I mean?’

  ‘I think I do.’ I’ve seen it at publishers’ parties sometimes. People stand a bit too close to each other. They contrive to touch in apparently innocuous ways. Except they do it a lot more than friends or colleagues do. It’s hard to pinpoint anything you could confront them with, but it’s there if you’re looking. I even remember watching one series of Masterchef where I was convinced two of the contenders were having a fling based purely on the way they touched in passing. Maybe I’m living on fantasy island, but I don’t think so. I’m good at reading people. It’s part of the reason I’m successful at my job. ‘I don’t think you’re imagining things.’

  Leanne pulled a scornful face. ‘I know I’m not. I thought I was, to begin with. But now I know I’m not. A couple of nights ago, I had a bit of an upset tummy. I was in the bathroom for about ten minutes. In this club, right, you come down the hall to the main VIP area and there’s like a lobby off to the side before the main area. And there was a lass there who hadn’t been around when I left. Anyway, she didn’t see me come back and neither did Joshu. And they were going at it hammer and tongs, out there away from the main room. She was telling him he couldn’t just pick her up and drop her like she was a packet of fags. That she was fed up of hearing about other women he’d shagged, fed up of hearing him bullshitting about leaving his wife, fed up of him being Mr Unreliable.’ She stopped, visibly shaken at the memory, and lit another cigarette.

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I wanted to rip the bitch’s hair out, for our Scarlett’s sake. But I knew if I did that, it would turn into a major ruck and it’d end up all over the papers. And our Scarlett doesn’t deserve that. If anybody deserves to be humiliated, it’s that little shit Joshu, not her. So I sneaked back down the hall to the loo then made loads of noise coming back. I pretended I was shouting back at somebody in the bathroom. And when I got to the lobby, they were gone. She was in the VIP area, but I think Joshu must have gone down into the main part of the club because he turned up on the decks about twenty minutes later. Did a guest rideout, all scratching and scribbling and generally showing off like the prize pillock he is.’

  Elbows on her knees, Leanne sighed and stared gloomily across the pond. ‘I can’t stand that he’s making a fool out of her.’

  ‘You’re going to have to tell her.’

  She gave me an ‘are you crazy?’ look then shook her head vigorously. ‘No way. She wouldn’t believe me. She’d think I was after him for myself or some muppet thing like that.’

  ‘You have to tell her because if there’s a loose cannon bitch out there, it’s going to come out in the press. It’s going to come at her out of the blue. It’s going to be sensationalised and exaggerated and she’s going to be utterly humiliated. That would be so much worse. Not to mention the fact that she’s going to realise you must have known about it. She’ll end up feeling stupid and humiliated and betrayed twice over – by Joshu and by you. And you’ll come off worse, because he might be a twat but she loves him.’

  Leanne muttered, ‘Fuck’s sake,’ under her breath.

  ‘I don’t see that you have any alternative. And you need to do it sooner rather than later. Because that bitch is out there and she’s not going away.’

  20

  I really tried to get out of holding Leanne’s hand while she told Scarlett the tacky truth about her husband. But gradually I realised that if I wasn’t there to lend moral support, Leanne was going to bottle it. I can’t say I blamed her. The news she had to deliver was the sort of thing nobody wants to hear. When Marina came back from the toddler group, I dug into my wallet and paid her extra to take Jimmy up to his nursery for the evening.

  It was almost seven when the studio car brought Scarlett home. She was on a high after an afternoon of being pinned and tacked into a succession of sexy dresses. My presence was a bonus, she said, heading straight for the fridge and opening a bottle of Prosecco. She poured three glasses in spite of my protestations and gave me a kiss on the forehead as she handed mine to me. ‘Chill, sister,’ she said. ‘You can always stay over if you want to have a drink with me and Leanne. Right, Lee?’

  There was no point in holding back. This was not a conversation that would improve with keeping. ‘You might not want either of us in the house when you hear what we’ve got to say,’ I said.

  Scarlett stopped in her tracks and frowned. ‘That doesn’t sound good.’ She looked from me to Leanne and back again. A flare of panic lit her eyes. ‘It’s not Jimmy, is it? I mean, I’m assuming he’s gone down for the night, yeah?’

  ‘No, Jimmy’s fine. Marina’s got him up in the nursery. We didn’t want him to see you upset.’

  ‘That only leaves Joshu.’ She sat down heavily, her mouth a hard line. ‘Spill it, then. Has he wrapped that stupid bloody car round a tree?’

  ‘No, nothing like that.’ I looked at Leanne. ‘Though you might wish he had by the time we’re done.’

  ‘Spit it out, then. Jeez, Steph, it’s not like you to beat around the bush.’

  ‘OK.’ I took a deep breath. Like that ever made anything easier. ‘It looks like Joshu’s been putting it about a bit.’

  Scarlett didn’t move a muscle. She sat, frozen, staring straight ahead, not even blinking for what felt like an impossible length of time. I could only imagine the hurt. She’d been serially let down by every adult who owed her care and love. And still she persisted in loving. I found it impossible not to admire that.

  At last, she looked away, delicately wiping her mouth clean of lipstick with her index finger. It was a curious gesture, as if she was removing the very taste of him. ‘Tell me what you know,’ she said, hard-edged Yorkshire to the core.

  So Leanne told Scarlett what she’d already told me. Halting and nervous, she got through her story. Scarlett sat stony-faced throughout, sipping metronomically from her glass. At the end, Scarlett’s face twitched once, a momentary lapse of control. Then she was back in charge. ‘Do you know who she was, this slag?’

  ‘I think I heard somebody call her Tiffany. But I couldn’t swear to it.’

  ‘Ha!’ Scarlett’s cry was bitter. ‘Not Tiffany – Toffany. Stupid fucking made-up name. Toffany Banks. She’s always wanted him. Well, she’s welcome to him. Come on, girls. We’ve got work to do.’

  That night, Scarlett confirmed what I’d believed for some time. She was not a woman to mess with. First, cool as a cucumber, she called Joshu. ‘Hey, babe,’ she said. ‘Are you working tonight?’

  When she came off the phone, she said, ‘He’s running the decks at Stagga. Then he’s going on to a party in Fulham. So the night is ours.’

  Next she called a local van-hire firm that Joshu had an account with. ‘He uses their vans for festivals and private gigs,’ she explained. She arranged for them to drop off a Transit at the hacien
da on Joshu’s account. Then we headed upstairs to the bedroom with a roll of black bin liners. Scarlett threw Joshu’s clothes out of wardrobes and drawers and we filled the bags. As soon as the bags were full, she’d tip in a bottle of cologne or aftershave lotion or one of the other expensive toiletries that colonised Joshu’s half of the bathroom. ‘He always likes to smell nice,’ she said with grim satisfaction as we carried the reeking bags down to the garage.

  When the van arrived, we loaded up all the equipment from his studio, his boxes of CDs and vinyl and the bags of clothes. It took us till gone one in the morning, but we’d been through the entire house and cleared it of every trace of the two-timing little shit. ‘Where to now?’ I asked, wiping my hair out of my eyes.

  ‘It’s on his account,’ Scarlett said. ‘I think we should drive it down to Stagga and leave the keys with one of the lads on the door. What do you think, Steph?’

  ‘Sounds good to me. You drive the van, I’ll follow in your car and bring you back here.’

  ‘I’ll go in the van with you,’ Leanne said. ‘Keep you company.’

  We both gave her an incredulous stare. ‘I don’t think so,’ Scarlett said. ‘We don’t want the doormen thinking they’re seeing double.’

  Leanne slapped herself on the forehead and burst out laughing. ‘Shit, I forgot. What am I like?’

  ‘Mental,’ Scarlett giggled. ‘Come on then, Steph. Let’s get going.’

  It went without a hitch. Scarlett parked the van on double yellows outside the club and spoke to the gorillas on the door. ‘Joshu asked me to drop his gear off,’ she said. ‘Can you give him the keys?’ She gestured at her joggers and muscle vest. ‘I’m not dressed for it. I don’t want to ruin my reputation.’

  Scarlett didn’t say much on the way back. ‘I left him a note propped up on the steering wheel,’ she said. ‘Told him to fuck off to Toffany’s if he wanted a bed for the night and not to bother coming back.’

  ‘You’ll have to talk to him about access to Jimmy,’ I said.