He popped Champagne and was so relieved that they were at home: just the three of them. Yes, Kara’s mother was great, Michael was great, the hospital staff absolutely brilliant but…this was blissful. After Kara had woken up, they shared dinner and then gawped at Harvey and realised what a little marvel he was: All 7lb 2oz of him. The two of them drank a celebratory toast.
Marcus kissed Kara, and said, ‘Any idea what we do now?’
Kara smiled, and took his hand. ‘Haven’t got a clue,’ she answered.
***
Ronald raised an eyebrow and said, ‘You have a visitor.’
Michael could tell by his expression that his colleague was troubled. Looking beyond him he saw Mr Heavy waiting in the gallery. He was carrying a package, and a vacant expression. Menacing, all the same. He stood over six feet six tall.
‘It’s OK Ronald, I know him.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. Don’t be alarmed. He can kill both of us with expert ease, but only one at a time. I’ll distract him, you make a run for it. He’s big but he’s slow.’
‘Very funny…’
Michael walked into the gallery.
‘Hello, Vladimir.’
Ice eyes returned his gaze. ‘I have a package for you. Can we go somewhere private?’
‘Here’s just fine.’
‘My Boss sends his regards. I believe you will find this will take care of your needs. For now, at least.’ He handed over the brown paper parcel. Michael took it, without blinking. Outwardly, he was cool personified. Inside, he was a bag of nerves.
‘You can contact me on the cell phone which is contained in the envelope. I do not expect to hear from you, except in an emergency.’ He turned and departed, his long black leather coat making a swishing noise as he went, like Darth Vader.
From a safe distance, Ronald said, ‘Is he your new best friend?’
‘Better to be a friend than an enemy,’ Michael replied.
He returned to his office and shut the door. Atop his desk, he unwrapped the parcel and extracted a wad of cash. He counted £10,000. That, he knew, was for the trip to Venice. He now had the address, the whereabouts of a house key, a phone and the money to travel. He sighed heavily. Then he thought of Agnes. It would be great to see her again.
For old time’s sake. As students in London, they had a thing going on but that was a very long time ago. He reckoned he could go to Italy and undertake the task in three days and have a little fun…a piece of cake. What could possibly go wrong?
CHAPTER SIX
‘Do you still see Adele?’
Michael was somewhat taken aback by Kara’s comment. This was the very last question he would expect to be asked. They strolled in the park near Limehouse basin, which overlooked the Thames, Kara pushing the newly acquired pram along the wharf, with Harvey wrapped up inside. He was now eight days old.
Michael looked at her and shook his head. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Because you were married for many years, and I assume that for a long time you were happy with each other.’
‘Yes, we were.’
‘Why would it go wrong, if you love each other?’
‘Heavy stuff,’ he replied.
‘Will you keep in touch? After all, you built something special with the gallery, the magazine, and you have a fine son between you…’
They stopped. He was uneasy with her inquisition. He took a bar of chocolate from his pocket and shared it with her and tried to answer truthfully.
‘We have no reason to see each other,’ he said. ‘The divorce went through, I’m broke and she lives in isolated splendour on an estate in Herefordshire, with you-know-who. Thankfully, Toby bought into the business, cleared the debts and asked his mother to resign from the company. She kicked and screamed but saw the light. She now has no part in my life. Sad, but true. We move on, but secretly I hope their house burns down.’
‘Careful what you wish for. Not bitter then?’
‘Not at all, just when I breathe.’
‘And Lauren, do you still think about her?’
‘Christ, Kara, what’s this all about?’
They continued their journey, Harvey oblivious to the complexities of human strife heading his way.
‘I don’t think any of us have given you enough credit for flipping your life around,’ Kara said. ‘We are all so busy wrapped up in our own little worlds that we sometimes forget to ask how other people are feeling about things. Now I’m asking.’
‘I miss her because of the mind-blowing sex.’
‘Too much detail.’ She punched him playfully on the arm.
‘Ouch!’
‘Baby.’
He thought about it. It was hard being reminded of such pain. He cleared his throat. ‘Lauren was a minefield of contradictions, a woman with an unquenchable thirst for thrills and drama, who sought vengeance on those that she felt betrayed her. She gave everything and expected everything in return. She lived on a knife-edge. Remember, the abuse she suffered at the hands of her father throughout her childhood marked her for life. Her illness was destructive, her troubled personality split by trauma. She was wrongfully accused of manslaughter. She took the rap for the crimes of her sister. No wonder she was off her head. Her passion was all-consuming, but flawed. She couldn’t tolerate the weakness in others. Had she lived, she would have killed the both of us eventually.’ He buttoned his coat tight around his neck, the cold biting into his skin. ‘I too am flawed. I was letting this destruction happen because I was greedy. We were on a fast downward curve, being sucked into oblivion from our obsession for each other. Perhaps I loved her too much, but she was a curse.’
‘I like the bit about passion being all-consuming. You had that with two unique women. Some people never experience that feeling in their whole lifetime. Personally, I thought that both Adele and Lauren were off their fucking heads.’
He grimaced. ‘What does that say about me?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Thanks.’
Then she smiled. ‘But I love you, sometimes.’
They linked arms as they walked. It felt supremely good to him.
‘How about you and Marcus?’ he asked.
Kara remained quiet for a few steps. ‘I too want that aching passion. I gave you a hard time because I want answers. I want real love. I don’t want to make a mistake with my life, I want to make the right decision.’
‘And what decision is that?’
She smiled radiantly, her eyes ablaze. Then she surprised him. ‘Marcus has asked me to marry him!’
He was taken aback. ‘What was your answer?’
‘I’ll go with the barmy-army chorus line, of which you are a fully signed-up member of. I said yes of course!’ Then she added with a smile, ‘I’m stupid, I know. I need my head testing.’
‘Off your fucking rocker!’ Michael said laughing, and took over pushing the pram, leaving her standing there, perplexed. He turned and faced her.
‘Best decision of your life,’ he said.
***
Later, over supper at their apartment, Michael confronted Kara and Marcus with some unsettling news: ‘I’m going to Venice for a few days.’
From past experience, they all knew this meant trouble.
They sat in the cluttered lounge, surrounded by baby clothes and toys, gifts from family and friends. Michael overdid it with a giant panda and a Chelsea football kit (for future use). You had to get them young, he surmised. They ate cross-legged on the floor, tucking into pizza and salad and chips. Harvey lay between his Dad’s open legs, alert to the mysterious big balloons that dangled from the ceiling above his head. His eyes twinkled in wonder.
‘Venice?’ Kara echoed. The atmosphere suddenly became brittle.
‘A business proposition. Couple of days holiday break as well…’
‘Will you see Julius and Antonia?’
Michael hesitated. ‘Depends. I don’t want to open up old wounds, but I’ll let them know I’m about.’
‘I think they would love to see you,’ Kara said.
Marcus pulled funny faces at Harvey. He was keeping out of it.
Kara made coffee in the kitchen. Michael took the chance to speak candidly and turned to Marcus.
‘We need to talk, privately, Marcus. Can I ring you at the gallery tomorrow? There are things you need to know, especially as I am going away.’
‘Sure.’ Marcus eyed him suspiciously. They still hadn’t become entirely comfortable with each other. ‘Why can’t you say those things in front of Kara?’
‘Because she is a young mum, and very fragile at the moment. You are stronger, and can evaluate the situation better.’
‘And what situation is that?’
‘Someone from the past…’
‘Ah, the past. It never seems to leave us alone, does it?’
Michael picked up the scorn in his voice, and dropped the subject as Kara re-entered the room and placed their drinks down on the table.
‘Having fun, guys?’ she asked.
‘Solving the problems of the world,’ Marcus said, turning his attention his son, who screamed as loud as a baby can.
‘Time for a nappy change,’ Kara announced. She picked her son up. Then she looked at Michael. ‘Do you want to do it?’
‘Time for me to go,’ Michael said quickly, raising his hands in protest. Those days were over. He gulped the remains of his coffee, kissed Kara good night and walked to the door with Marcus. There was a awkwardness between them.
‘I’m not trying to cause problems, Marcus.’
Marcus fidgeted. ‘Sure.’
‘Hear me out, and then you can decide if I’m overreacting.’
‘Is this a rumour based on fact or fantasy?’
‘A bit of both. But you need to know what’s been happening.’
‘You know where to find me. If this is all bullshit, I’ll put an end to this friendship once and for all. I’ve had enough, OK?’
They stared each other down.
‘I’ll ring you tomorrow,’ Michael said.
***
The next day, Michael reflected on the situation with Marcus. He knew he was treading on thin ice with all this conjecture about the return of Maggie. The very mention of her name would threaten the balance of their delicate three-way relationship, which was strained at the best of times. A poor relationship, he corrected himself. On the one hand, he understood this young man’s concern for privacy and stability, especially when he considered what they had all gone through over the past year. Equally, Michael had to make him understand the severity of the situation if they chose to ignore the potential harm that Maggie could inflict on them. To turn a blind eye was, in Michael’s opinion, perilous in the extreme. If his constant warnings meant friction between them, then so be it. This was a real danger. After surviving the fire, it was a case of regrouping and seeking closure. They each did that on their own terms. For Marcus, this meant stubborn denial. For Michael, it meant awareness. Kara just saw fear on the horizon. They all dealt with it in a fractured and unhealthy manner. It ate at them. Marcus had to be made aware of his responsibilities to Kara and his newborn son. Naivety was a wrong turn in Michael’s book. He too had responsibilities. He was older and wiser and overly protective because of the fatherly role that he adopted.
In the past, he had been foolish in love and very nearly paid with his life. Lauren was gone, and Kara’s earlier probing in the park once again brought the immense hurt of the past to the surface. Perhaps he had loved Lauren…but what was love? Was it just lust? She was always there in the background though, consuming his muddled thoughts. Over the past months, he had managed to subconsciously bury his feelings (he lied to himself), and had felt numb with the lack of emotion he felt (he was in denial). He recognised this was shock. Both his body and mind were in total shutdown. Kara made him reawaken his desire for physical need and comfort. Sometimes, he had to admit that he desperately missed Lauren.
Yes, she was cursed, but in the short time that they got together, the extreme passion they shared was overwhelming. Their lovemaking was intense and almost brutal. Although she almost took him down into Hell, he acknowledged that she had also lifted him to a height of ecstasy he’d never experienced before. Oh, how he missed it…She was an intensely exotic creature, a one-off creation. And a great artist too…truly great. She never got the credit she deserved, hiding her immense talent behind an assumed name in order to keep the memory of her dead brother alive. Perverse, yes, but she was mentally disturbed by the trauma of her upbringing. If only he had known earlier…
Sometimes, it saddened him that he would probably never fulfill this spiritual and sexual dimension again with another human being. She was off this planet. Although this was an almost crazy view of their headstrong obsession (that seemed to hold them like glue) toward each other, it was true for him. He ached for her. She really did exist in his life, and for a short time he found what he was looking for: sheer yearning and the abandonment of commitment. No ties. Just sex. Looking back, he and Lauren used each other. It suited them. They took everything from each other, but rarely gave anything back. Yes, it was a relationship based on carnal gratification, selfishness and voracity, but in conjunction with that, they lived on the bittersweet razor blade edge between intense love and loathing.
Call it what you like, everyone would have an opinion – but for Michael, as of this moment, he missed her dearly. He craved her. He would have died with her. So nearly did. It was Marcus who changed his destiny. Sometimes, he hated him for it. It was the first time in ages that he had confronted this anger within. This rage. It still existed, and he guessed that it existed in Marcus as well.
They had something so common – so raw – that, whether they liked it or not, it held them together in spite of themselves. It was like an invisible rope which structured their destinies. They could push and pull on each other but, in the end, their fate was entwined. It bound them. Michael understood; he doubted that Marcus would see the same picture. They were of a different generation.
He phoned Marcus at his gallery, expecting an ear bashing. The response took him by surprise, pushing him off guard.
‘You’d better come over,’ Marcus said. ‘We’ve had a window broken, so I’m a bit preoccupied with clearing up at the moment.’
Michael’s heart sank.
***
He got to the premises within the hour. The main window was shattered, although it remained partially intact, with great splinter lines drawn deep into the glass which still hung precariously within the frame. It was a dangerous situation, especially to those walking by. Michael could see the impact hole. He entered and found Marcus clearing away the window display in readiness for the glaziers to arrive. He looked flustered, so Michael nodded silently and kept his distance, trying to make himself useful. Immediately, he repositioned two chairs from the gallery in front of the window on the boardwalk to protect passers-by from possible injury, then re-entered the premises and scanned the wooden floor. He knew instinctively what he was searching for. To the rear of the building, he approached a multi-tiered free-standing glass cabinet and got down on his hands and knees. He felt underneath and grasped the hard-edged object.
Marcus looked over. ‘What are you searching for?’
‘This.’ Michael stood. He opened his hand.
‘A stone,’ Marcus observed. Then he looked at the window. ‘Was that the missile?’
‘Not stone,’ Michael said. ‘It is a piece of flint, exactly the same type which was used to break our gallery window recently. This is not a coincidence, Marcus. Like me, you have been targeted.’
‘Targeted? It was probably one of the homeless passing by, high on meths. They live in a hostel just around the corner from here. It happened last month to the coffee shop next door.’
‘No, Marcus. This just reinforces my view that my suspicions are well-founded.’ He took breath and steadied himself. ‘Maggie is back, make no mistake. We need to talk se
riously, Marcus. And you need to listen to me, very carefully.’
Marcus sighed, ‘Another of your conspiracy theories, huh?’
Michael placed the flint on the desk.
‘Don’t mock me, Marcus. You’ve seen the damage she can inflict first hand, and she is capable of more than just smashing windows. This is just her way of cranking up the pressure on us: First me, now you. The flint is from the barn, it is her calling card. I’m convinced that she is on a mission of revenge. She blames us for Lauren’s death. Maggie has the money she took from the farm, which gives her the power to move around anonymously. Possibly, she has changed her appearance, gained a false passport. You won’t like this Marcus, but both Kara and I have received numerous phone calls by an unidentifiable source. It’s her…be sure of it.’
Marcus gave him a withering look but calmed sufficiently to put the kettle on.
‘Suppose it isn’t,’ he said. ‘Suppose it’s just your warped sense of latching onto the past for whatever reason suits you. You don’t have the evidence to support your theory, Michael. The flint doesn’t signify anything. In the meantime, you put the shit up Kara and me, just when our lives are looking up. Kara has time for all this mad stuff, but I don’t.’
‘She sees the danger, Marcus.’
‘She sees whatever you want her to see,’ Marcus snapped back.
Marcus poured coffee and pushed a mug in Michael’s direction. He in turn took the drink and moved away, giving them space. He ambled around the gallery and examined the glass sculptures that adorned the wall shelves and those that sat atop the Perspex plinths. It was an impressive stock, he acknowledged. Marcus had the talent for display. One piece of bronze captivated him, a beautiful elongated figurine of a female nude, with arced back and a mass of cascading hair. It stood over twenty inches high on a polished marble base. Momentarily distracted from their conversation, Michael vowed to buy it. He finished his coffee and checked the price of the limited edition piece: £3000.
Call to Witness Page 11