by Chris Curran
She shook her head.
He looked down at his hands and his voice sank to something so unlike his normal tooloud, too-hearty one that he sounded like a different person. ‘I lost everything. And it wasn’t actually mine. So if I don’t do something drastic, the gallery will have to go. And this guy is willing to offer me a lifeline if I help him.’
Very aware of people walking by with trays she shifted her chair closer to him, speaking in a forceful whisper. ‘I can’t see how a few fake drawings could help.’
He was looking at her again and his voice had regained some of its confidence. ‘I think you underestimate your skills, my darling. But in any case, they will just be a start: to show my good intentions. After that he’ll organize extending my credit.’
‘I won’t do it.’
He leaned forward talking intensely. ‘Surely you want to help save the gallery that gave you and your mates such a great start. And you like David, don’t you? Do you really want to see him lose his job?’
He was pathetic but, despite herself, Stella felt a twinge of pity. But this was Ben’s fault. She had nothing to do with it. She slung her bag over her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry about all that, but the answer is still no. And I want my drawings back.’
‘Please, Stella, you don’t understand.’ His voice was a harsh whisper. ‘It’s not just that.’ The look of fear in his eyes made her pause. ‘You see the guy I was telling you about, he won’t actually take no for an answer. And if we don’t help him out, he won’t just be content with making sure I’m ruined.’
She needed to swallow, but her mouth was suddenly so dry she couldn’t do it. As he carried on speaking the chatter and clatter from the café turned to silence. All she could hear was a horrible buzzing in her head and his words: words that would have been unbelievable if it wasn’t for the emotion in his voice.
‘He hurts people. People who don’t do as he asks, you see. And he’s threatening me – threatening us – now.’
She must have made some kind of movement because he reached a hand out to her, but she shoved her own hands into her pockets and shifted away from the table.
‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘I haven’t told him who you are, but you can see why I’m desperate. And it’s always possible he might find out about you.’
Next morning she began packing up her room. What Ben had said was ludicrous, but it had shaken her and a small voice kept asking her something she couldn’t ignore: had Maggie disappeared because Ben had told her something similar?
Although she’d moved in with just a couple of suitcases and her box of art materials, she had accumulated so much in the eighteen months she’d been here that it would take several trips on the tube to get it all to the new flat. When everything except her easel and the Maggie and Me painting she’d been trying to work on was stuffed into cases and bags, she sat on the bed for ten minutes hating herself, hating Maggie and hating Ben Houghton.
When she got off the train she carried her bags along the tree-lined street towards her new flat. It was very quiet and after what Ben had said yesterday her senses felt hyper-alert, her skin tingling as if eyes were watching her. When she heard footsteps coming fast behind her she almost broke into a run, but told herself not to be so stupid.
The footsteps stopped. She froze.
‘Hi, Stella.’ She turned. James Stone, smiling a nervous smile and talking very fast.
‘I heard you were moving in with Laura and Jane,’ he said. ‘Just called round to see if you were there. Can I help you?’ He didn’t wait for an answer but grabbed her two suitcases. And they started walking. Without looking at her he said tentatively, ‘I’m sorry about the other morning.’
‘It’s all right.’
When they got to the house they dumped Stella’s stuff in her room, and she turned to him. ‘Thanks, James.’
‘I noticed a decent-looking pub just round the corner. If you want we could have a drink before you start unpacking. Help you cool down.’
‘No, I can’t stop. Have to collect the rest.’
He shifted from foot to foot. ‘If there’s much more I could come and help you.’ He rubbed one hand through his dark strands of hair until it looked as if he’d just fallen out of bed. When Stella didn’t speak he said, ‘Or I could just piss off if you’d rather.’
She laughed. ‘I’d love some help.’
At Maggie’s they were able to share out the rest between them; the painting under her arm and James shouldering her easel. They didn’t talk as they sat on the tube, but it was good not to feel alone.
As they walked back from the station again he said, ‘So where’s your mate, Maggie, disappeared to then?’
She didn’t want to talk about Maggie. ‘Travelling in Europe.’
‘Not just for a holiday though?’
‘No. She’s selling the house, so I don’t know if she’ll come back.’
‘How the other half lives, eh?’ When she didn’t answer he fell silent for a while. Then, ‘I heard rumours there was something going on between her and that guy Ben Houghton. Is that why she’s run away?’
Stella stopped and put down her suitcase. ‘Look, James, I really don’t want to talk about any of this.’
He turned to face her. His eyes were a warm brown and he gazed at her steadily for a moment then smiled. ‘OK, I’ll shut up.’
They walked on in silence, but when they reached the flat and carried everything up, he stood awkwardly in her bedroom doorway.
‘I’ll leave you to unpack, but I only live a few streets away so maybe we can get that drink one evening.’
And suddenly she didn’t want to say goodbye. ‘If you give me a hand with this, we could go after that.’
Eve
Eve arranged to meet Simon in a little wine bar near the railway station in St Leonards. It was a mile or so outside the main town of Hastings so they were less likely to be seen by anyone she knew. As she parked and locked the car she felt a qualm. She shouldn’t be keeping this from Alex. But she told herself it was easier this way. He would only worry and ask questions she didn’t want to answer yet.
Simon was already sitting with a glass of wine and a menu in front of him. Eve had never been to this bar before, but it looked to be a good choice: warm, woody and just busy enough to allow for a private chat without being overheard. Simon stood as she walked in and came towards her to drop a kiss on her cheek.
‘Lovely to see you again, Eve. What can I get you?’
‘Just a sparkling water, please.’
She picked up the menu, but her eyes followed him to the bar. He was in a dark suit, with the jacket open and his blue tie unfastened and she remembered something her dad had said about Ben: He could always wear clothes well, of course.
When he returned to the table he said, ‘Shall we order first? Then we can talk without interruption.’ His eyes never left her face, and she was glad of the excuse to look down.
They chose some tapas to share and she noticed Simon went for all vegetable options, so she did the same. The waitress took their order, ignoring Eve and fluttering beside Simon.
When she had gone, Eve asked, ‘Are you vegetarian?’
‘Since I was a teenager. It was mainly to annoy my parents who were big meat eaters. But I’ve never felt I was missing out. My wife was vegan so that wasn’t a problem.’ He brushed back his hair and gave a soft laugh. ‘There were problems a-plenty in the marriage, but food wasn’t one of them.’
‘So you’re …?’
‘Divorced? Yes. Five years now, which is about the same time the marriage lasted in fact. No kids, thank the lord. That would have made things difficult. As it is we parted amicably, as they say.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. The single life suits me fine.’
Eve didn’t imagine he would have trouble finding female company if he wanted it. And she couldn’t stop a small smile as she realized she would be proud to have such a desirable man for her brother. One of
his dark eyebrows rose. ‘What’s so funny?’
She was saved by the arrival of the food and as they ate he started talking about Stella.
‘It was her work that turned me on to art, you know. I hated it before that because it was what my parents were involved with. I was an only child, so I was probably jealous that it took up so much of their time. That show was different because the artists were young. Older than me, of course – I was only just fourteen – but at that age, although you despise your parents’ generation, you can’t wait to be just that little bit more adult. So I went to the gallery before the show and was bowled over by Stella’s work.’
A pulse of excitement. ‘Is that when you met her?’
‘No, that wasn’t until the opening night. Dad was pleased when I told him I’d like to come because he thought I was finally showing an interest, but all I really wanted was to speak to Stella. It wasn’t just her paintings that captivated me. I’d seen her picture on the front of the catalogue and thought she was beautiful. And when I did meet her I fell in love on the spot.’ He was smiling at the memory as he twisted his fork in a bowl of butter beans and olives. Then he looked up. ‘Puppy love, of course, but at the time …’
‘It feels like the real thing.’ She nodded. ‘I know.’ His eyes, clear as blue glass, clouded and he echoed her nod. ‘What was she like?’ she said, her breath catching in her throat.
‘Very like you to look at. Pretty, tiny and kind of fragile. I was growing fast at the time, and she made me feel protective even though she was older.’
As if disturbed by the rapid thump of Eve’s heart, the baby gave a sharp kick under her ribs. She sat up straighter to give it more space. Simon was talking, his eyes distant as he followed his memories.
‘She came from Newcastle and had a lovely accent, but was obviously trying to disguise it, which made her even more appealing.’
‘How many times did you meet her?’
He reached for a piece of bread, took a drink of his wine and turned to wave his glass at the waitress.
‘Just that once properly. Although I saw her again when she came to our house a few weeks afterwards.’ He took a bite of his bread. ‘It was late one evening and I was hiding away in my bedroom like a typical teenager. Eavesdropping.’
‘Is that where you got the idea she was romantically involved with Ben?’
‘Well, I guessed that when I saw them together at the opening. They’d obviously been kissing, at the very least.’ Another gentle laugh. ‘God, I was so jealous.’
‘I can imagine. But what about when she came to the house.’
‘All I can say is that they argued. It was quite heated.’
‘Could it have been about something else?’
‘I can’t think what. And, Eve …’ this time he took her hand, ‘I listened at my door for a minute or so and I heard Stella tell Dad she was pregnant.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Eve
When Eve got home she found Alex in the kitchen by the open fridge. He had a frozen ready meal in his hand and had just opened a bottle of lager.
‘I’ve been trying to call you. Been anywhere exciting?’
They never kept things from each other, but she hesitated. She hadn’t told him about the visit to Pamela and Ben yet, so he didn’t even know she’d met Simon. Instead of answering right away she pulled out her mobile. ‘Sorry.’ Two missed calls and a text from him. The music and chatter in the wine bar must have prevented her hearing. She was still in her coat, still with her bag over her shoulder, and she turned back to the hall to take them off. Calling out as she did so, ‘I went to meet Ben Houghton’s son, Simon. I’ve been trying to talk to Ben. He won’t see me, but Simon happened to be down here today, so we met up.’
When she came back into the kitchen she knew from the way Alex was standing, with his arms crossed, that he was upset. ‘So when were you going to tell me about this?’
She felt a surge of something that might have been annoyance or maybe guilt. It wasn’t the fact that he wanted to know, but the way he’d spoken that made her answer come out so spikily. ‘When I found out something worth telling you.’
Alex shook his head and turned away. His voice was very quiet. ‘And have you?’
‘Yes, I have. Simon is pretty sure Ben is my father, which would mean that Simon and I are brother and sister.’
He twisted back, looking down at her and speaking in his normal voice. ‘I thought Ben had a relationship with her friend?’
‘It sounds as if he had multiple affairs. Simon saw him kissing Stella at the gallery opening and later on she came to their house to announce she was pregnant.’
Alex rubbed his chin. ‘That sounds convincing, but how old was Simon at the time?’
‘Fourteen.’
Alex took a fork from the drawer, pierced the plastic cover on the frozen pasta and put it into the microwave. ‘It’s strange that your dad, David I mean, didn’t know about this.’
Eve switched on the kettle, dropping a herbal tea bag into a mug. ‘I think he and Mum just want the whole thing to go away. Like they said, they started thinking of me as their real child and wanted to forget all about Stella. So they ignored any suspicions they might have had and distanced themselves from Ben. Dad told me he hadn’t seen much of him since he left the gallery.’
The microwave pinged and Alex opened it and stirred the pasta. ‘Do you want any of this?’
She shook her head. ‘We had lunch so I’m not hungry, but I’m cold. I think I’ll have a bath.’
She lay in the hot scented water sipping her tea and trying not to be annoyed with him. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he thought she was incapable of doing this on her own.
Closing her eyes she found herself thinking about Simon. Although Ben didn’t sound like the kind of man she would like for a father she’d be very happy if it turned out that Simon was her brother. She felt a definite connection with him and the way he talked about Stella was oddly comforting.
The water had cooled, but she stayed lying there until Alex knocked on the door.
‘Are you all right?’
When she came out wrapped in her dressing gown he put his arms around her. ‘I’m sorry if you think I’m prying. I just want to help.’
Eve rested her head in the curve of his shoulder and when he stroked her damp hair she rose on tiptoes to kiss his warm lips. ‘I’m sorry too. I don’t mean to shut you out.’
‘There’s some pasta left if you want it.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m tired so think I’ll go straight to bed. Maybe read for a while.’
He spoke into her hair. ‘What about some food? I could toast a piece of that nice bread.’
She realized she was hungry. ‘Yes, please. With some of the hummus I made if there’s any left.’
They walked back to the bedroom arms entwined and when she climbed under the covers he tucked them around her.
‘Back in a minute.’
She must have dozed because he was back with a plate and mug. Still in his clothes he lay on the bed beside her.
She said, ‘I’ve also heard from one of the other artists at the Houghton: James Stone. He was Stella’s boyfriend for a short time and says it’s possible he’s the one.’
‘Well that sounds more likely to me. Are you going to try to meet him too?’
‘He lives in America, so that will be difficult, but he’s hoping to get over here in the New Year.’
He sat up. ‘That’s good. Sounds like you’ve got it down to two candidates. Why don’t you wait until the baby’s born then ask James and this Simon Houghton to do a DNA test? That could put your mind at rest completely.’ He swung his legs onto the floor. ‘Anyway, I’ve got some work to do. Call me if you need anything.’ Then he gave her a long sweet kiss. ‘Just in case you’re asleep when I come to bed.’
After he’d gone she lay for a few minutes. He still didn’t understand that she couldn’t wait. Nor that it wasn’t the identity
of her father she was bothered about but what had happened to her mother.
Alex had brought her phone up with him and after she’d eaten her toast she saw there was a message from James Stone:
Thank you so much for the photo. I’ll treasure it. You look just as Stella did when I knew her.
I was so pleased to hear about her exhibition at the Baltic and the fact that she produced more paintings before she died. But you’re an adult now and I can understand why you need to know as much about your mother as possible so I’m going to be completely honest with you.
You see when we were together she couldn’t work. The huge success she had at Houghton’s didn’t make her happy. In fact it was obvious to me that something went wrong around the time of that show. She wouldn’t talk about it, but she seemed almost afraid at times. I had an inkling that something had happened between her and Ben Houghton. It was clear she was angry with him, although she never admitted they’d had an affair and I didn’t ask.
She’d also had a really unpleasant bust-up with her best friend, Maggie (sorry I can’t remember her surname). I have to say that from what I saw and heard of her I didn’t like Maggie and I suspect that the estrangement was mainly because she was jealous of Stella’s talent.
But Stella was very fond of her and I was glad to hear they reconciled and Stella began to work again before she died.
I just wish she had been happier when she was with me. Or that I could have helped with whatever was bothering her.
If he was telling the truth, and she had no reason to doubt him, he’d certainly confirmed that Stella was troubled during that last year. And he knew Ben was part of the problem – so he was still in the frame as a potential father. James hadn’t used the word depressed. Instead he thought she was unhappy and angry. But the phrase that jumped out at Eve was: she seemed almost afraid.
Stella
Stella had been lying awake since the early hours. James was beside her in bed and she tried to keep still so as not to wake him. He had been more or less living with her for the past few weeks. She wasn’t in love with him, but she liked him a lot and when they made love she could almost forget the pain of being unable to paint and having lost Maggie. It quietened that nagging anxiety about Ben Houghton’s warnings too.