by Tim Parks
Dan! She called in a low shout across the seeded earth, fresh and damp in warm July. Dan, come here. When he stopped her voice dropped further. Dan, how do you think I found out about you? I mean you and Jane? Why do you think I wouldn’t tell you? He turned and stared at her. Now he climbed back to the doorway. What was that? He stepped inside. What did you say? She looked pale and brittle. The petite, permed radiance was gone. His wife was shaking. What do you mean?
But Hilary had caught a glimpse of Tom there on the stairs, behind the piano. Go to your room, Tom, she called. She pulled herself together, false and jovial. We’ve seen you there, Tommie. Go to bed! Dad, he said, are you all right? Go to your room! No, the boy said. The quick brown face was peeping over the banister at his father. The boy has never seen me like this, Daniel realised: dark glasses, stumbling gait. Despite his confusion, Judge Savage managed a reassuring smile. Go to your room, Tom. Or do I have to kill you? The boy laughed and scampered off. Oh, and you’d better enjoy that TV while it lasts, Daniel shouted. Rascal. Tomorrow it’ll be coming out of there.
The couple looked at each other. He knew his wife appreciated his authority with the children. It was Sarah told me, Hilary said. Again Daniel was sitting down. Sarah told me, not me her. And she made me promise not to tell you. Why else do you think I wouldn’t have? Why would I have hidden it? Actually, I thought you’d guessed. How else could I have known it was her writing those silly letters to you? She was very upset. She said, as soon as Dad leaves chambers he always goes to see that woman he works with at her flat. Everybody knows, she said. An edge crept into Hilary’s voice. And she was right. Everybody knew except me. Christine said she’d known for ages.
Shit. Daniel had his head in his hands. Then Tuesday, Hilary, went on, when she threw that fit – she was banging her head on the wall, in front of Max – she began to say all kinds of wild things. That I was stupid to stay with you because you had lots of women, not just one. She said she’d only told me about just the one because she thought it would be enough to wake me up, but apparently it wasn’t. She said you were having women all the time. She said – Daniel kept his face in his hands – where did I think you were when you always got back late from everywhere you went and people always phoned imagining you’d be back already. To whores, she said. Hilary’s voice had become dull and flat. She said that’s why you’d gone away for the week no doubt – because I’d told her you were away on a different circuit – to see prostitutes. Like I said, Max was here. She said it was a farce our staying together, our buying a new house as if we were in love, and she would never live in it, she would never live with two such sick people again. She kept banging her fists on the wall saying we were sick. She would never sleep even a night in this house, it was a false house, unless you left for good and stopped pretending to be different from what you were. She said that watching you in court she’d felt ashamed and that I should divorce you at once and marry again. There was a pause at last. Daniel looked up. A moth fluttered at the porch door where a naked bulb had been switched on. He met his wife’s eyes. She said – can you believe it – she said – there was almost a moment of hysteria in Hilary’s voice, that she was glad I had Max. That I should marry Max because he was nice.
We’d better go and get her, Daniel said.
ELEVEN
IF I HAD always had Hilary to drive me around, it passed through his mind, perhaps I would never have become adulterous. There would have been no opportunity. I’ll call Mattheson tomorrow, he decided. I’ll explain exactly what happened. Perhaps a whole life could hang on something as simple as a driving licence. At a traffic light, he glimpsed a tear shining on Hilary’s cheek. Hilary, he said. You didn’t believe any of that rubbish she came out with, I hope. His wife shook her head. She drove. Daniel felt enormously agitated. And ashamed. No, I’m calm really, he thought. And I don’t feel guilty. Or I’m beyond knowing. Then he changed his mind. I must sit tight and save everything. My marriage. My daughter, my job. An enormous effort of will. There is nothing incompatible about having all these things.
On the ring road his one strained eye caught a dark glimpse of two girls giggling by the bushes. Three fails, he thought. Why had the child blown her chances so stupidly? If she wanted to protest, why not to his face? I’ll go back to court Monday, he suddenly said. Just to see how it feels, sitting at my desk, looking through a few papers. Perhaps there would be a note from Minnie. The girl was fine after all. What do you think?
There’s no hurry, Hilary replied. Her voice was a whisper. But if you want to. She was holding back sobs. First I hurt her, he thought, then I’m overwhelmed with tenderness. No, but it was Sarah had hurt her. Not me. It’s complete rubbish, what Sarah told you, he said. I don’t know why she would make up such stuff. Hilary shook her head and this time kept shaking it from side to side. That was a lovely evening you planned, Daniel told her. If I believed the half of it, his wife finally whispered, I’d have told you to fuck off and leave me alone forever. Daniel sat still, watching the familiar streets slide by from this unfamiliar seat. I hate being driven, he thought. His headache was fierce.
Go on, she told him. The car had stopped in Carlton Street. She put the keys in his hand. We should go together, he said. No, she wants you not me. But didn’t she say she wouldn’t live in the new house unless I left? She wants you, Hilary repeated. I know her. He said: Listen, even if she does want just me, shouldn’t we go up together to show we’re united. Hilary stared through the windscreen down the street. In the end it was an attractive street in a nice part of town. Carlton Mansions was a pleasant building. What delicate equilibrium had been upset by moving away from here? If we were united, Hilary muttered, we wouldn’t be here at all. Daniel bunched the keys in his fist and swung a stiff leg out onto the pavement.
Oh, Mr Savage! The lift door opened on their erstwhile upstairs neighbours, the Fords. How wonderful to have you back! His dark glasses and impaired vision in the dim hall light only just allowed him to see how flustered the two elderly ladies were. So brave of you, how awful, are you well now, we prayed for you, Mr Savage, we’re so proud of you, have they caught them? Daniel tried to smile. Pushed for time, he apologised. The ancient sisters were used to being dismissed. Of course, of course. At every meeting, he realised, I will be inappropriately praised. The lift doors closed. Alone in the small humming space he was assailed by a shiver of vulnerability. Take a deep breath. Crossing the corridor, he slipped a key into the familiar lock.
Sarah! How strange to see the place so empty! He walked across the sitting room. His voice echoed. Then Daniel was shocked. She was sitting on their old mattress in their old bedroom. Why hadn’t Hilary told him? Hilary misses out the most obvious details, he thought. There was no bed. It was the room they had slept in for years. Back to the wall, cross-legged on the mattress, Sarah was frighteningly gaunt. Her cheeks are hollow. Dad! The young woman jumped to her feet, Dad, what’s with the shades? Oh Dad! She threw her arms round him. I had an accident, he said. Nothing to worry about.
They hugged. Her body is all bones, he thought. But immediately she asked, Have you brought any food? I’m starving. He released her. Let’s drive over to the new house, he said, and cook something up. Promptly she sat down on the mattress. I’m staying here. This is my home. I want to eat my food here. So why haven’t you? There isn’t anything, she said. Your mother gave you fifty pounds, didn’t she? Sarah said nothing, a sudden vagueness seemed to come over her. Don’t ask her about the exams, Daniel told himself.
We could go to a restaurant, he suggested. Okay! She jumped to her feet with that lightness that had always delighted him about her, about young women in general. Certainly she seemed to have plenty of energy. Okay! On the landing he said: Mum’s waiting in the car. Great, she smiled. He was relieved. Had it not been for the bags under the eyes, he would have called it a seductive smile. Mum told me, by the way, about what happened when she picked you up from the station, he said. Again the girl looked sheepish. And ev
erything you said to her. They were in the lift, but she contrived to look at the door; she was watching the landings pass by through the tiny grill. Daniel didn’t know how to go on. I must put my fate in Mattheson’s hands, he thought. Or perhaps Frank would find the girl with no trouble.
In the street, he was careful to open the back door for Sarah, then took the front seat beside his wife. They must stress their unity. To the Kossuth, he announced brightly. The girl must eat. What if you’re recognised, Hilary asked. Does it matter? We don’t want to be mobbed, Dan. He said nothing. You don’t know what it’s been like, she insisted, outside the hospital, with the press and everything. Now she’s inviting the girl, Daniel realised, to find out what she wouldn’t tell her before. If Sarah had known he was in hospital she would never have imagined he might be with another woman.
Why aren’t you driving, Dad? his daughter asked. Your father’s become a hero in your absence, Hilary tossed over her shoulder. Perhaps I should have told you. I was rather badly beaten up, Daniel said. After the Mishra trial. Right after you left. I’ve got a problem with an eye. Who did it? Sarah asked. I’ve no idea. I didn’t see them. But where were you? In the high-rise car park, he said. Queen Street. They think it must have been some racist group after those Indians were acquitted, Hilary explained. They were cleared? Yes. Apparently some people blamed my summing up. Of abduction too? How marvellous! Why? he wondered. Why was his daughter pleased that the Mishras had been allowed to abduct their sick child? Now dead. Just temporarily, I’m blind in one eye, he told her. Your father should really be in bed, Hilary remarked. I’m so pleased they got off, Sarah said. She leaned over to the front seat and pressed her cheek against her father’s. Poor Dad! You were so clever when you spoke to the jury like that. So convincing!
In the restaurant the young woman ate voraciously while her parents watched. She didn’t seem unhappy with the situation. She spoke enthusiastically about Italy. Thanks for letting me go! She had enjoyed herself immensely. It was amazing what the Etruscans had done under the city. There was something slightly dazzled and false about her, Daniel noticed. Something hurried. And almost no reaction to his having been hurt. There are these huge caverns, Mum, they tunnelled down to, an incredibly complicated system of water distribution. Latin turned out to be quite a help.
Eventually, while her head was down over her dessert, Daniel began, Sarah love, Sarah, I’m not going to be angry, really I’m not, but you must realise that we’ve got to talk about a few things. She ate on. You’ve failed your exams, he said. He stopped. Talk away, she said without looking up. You didn’t even try to pass them, it seems, Sarah, love. Hilary is watching, it suddenly occurred to Daniel. He remembered Kathleen Connolly’s eyes at the Mishra trial. To check that everything was being done properly. Then you came back, he told the girl, completely unexpectedly from Italy. And however much you say you enjoyed it, you weren’t eating much, were you? And you baled out early. Now your mother tells me you don’t want to live with us in the new house. Naturally we wondered – when he paused, she just kept on eating – if anything particular had happened that might explain all this, and also, he went on quickly – also, we need to know what you plan to do next and above all, I suppose, where you’re intending to live.
The girl glanced up from ice-cream. No need to be so bloody solemn, Dad. She ducked down again. Are you going to answer? Hilary demanded. Her mouth full, the girl said: I would have done the exams properly if he hadn’t slapped me in the face. Rubbish, Hilary snapped. I’m sure your father did no such thing. Ask him, Sarah said, still without lifting her eyes. Let’s talk about things one by one, Daniel tried. Leaving your education aside, what we . . . Yes, your honour? Suddenly she looked up so perkily, with such an air of mischief and fun that Daniel couldn’t help but smile. It was like when they all played cards together in the evenings on holiday. He was disarmed. Hilary was furious. Treat your father with some bloody respect and answer his questions! Jawohl, Sarah replied. Leaving your education aside, he began again – the fact that he had previously lost his temper with his wife somehow saved him from the need to lose it now with his daughter. But what had he meant to say? Leaving aside the question of my education . . . Sarah was on the edge of giggles, Hilary livid. Where do you plan to live? he finished.
At home, she replied.
Excellent.
In Carlton Street.
But I told you, Hilary jumped in, that you had to be out of there by Monday. And there’s no furniture. You see what I mean, she turned to Daniel. She’s completely unreasonable. The flat has been sold, Daniel told his daughter firmly. Okay? Monday you have to be out. You have no legal right to stay. They were late with their part of the bargain earlier on, Sarah said evenly, so why shouldn’t we be late now with ours. They haven’t paid all the money yet, he explained patiently. We need the money to reduce our loans, and they won’t pay till we give them possession. Aren’t they old friends? Nobody is friends when it comes to a hundred thousand pounds, Hilary cut in. But her daughter’s eyes seemed to be concentrated on a group at another table. She said quietly: That is my home, that’s where I’ve been brought up and have always lived. I’m staying there. You’re not moving me, and if you try I’ll walk out and you’ll never see me again.
She turned her attention to her dessert. The sound of the spoon scraping the bowl seemed unnaturally loud. Daniel stared at her. The waiter came, hovered, departed. Hilary looked ferocious. It was getting late. As the seconds passed the contrast between the apparent cosiness of this small Hungarian restaurant and the impasse in which they found themselves could not have been more complete.
Then Hilary was on her feet. I’m putting up with no more of this! She stood and walked to the till to pay. The waiter moved promptly across the small room to meet her. Sarah smiled indulgently at her father. Can I see what it’s like under your glasses, she asked. Just a patch, he said, removing them. You poor thing. She raised a finger and gently touched his brow.
Getting out of the car at Carlton Street, Sarah turned and knocked on the window: Oh sorry, I forgot to say, there was a phone call from Uncle Frank. At the flat. Thanks, Daniel said quickly. But she insisted on saying more: He said to be in touch at once because he has earned his money. Fine, good. He was already buzzing up the window. How are you feeling, Hilary asked, a few moments later. She was driving quickly through deserted streets. Shattered, he told her. Why doesn’t she enquire about that message? Daniel wondered. She must have heard. Home and bed, his wife smiled. She said, I can’t wait for a real cuddle. Up on the hill, the young policeman was playing Tomb Raider with Tom.
TWELVE
THAT COLONEL AND Mrs Savage had made a calamitous mistake adopting him, Daniel had appreciated – fully appreciated – only in his mid teens. Their radical side-taking over Frank’s expulsion suddenly made him aware, in an adult way, of what he had always known intuitively: I am my dear father’s revenge for the love Mother lavishes on Frank.
But why should he remember this now, Sunday morning very early pottering around his new house? This is not at all analogous, Daniel told himself – there were so many chores to be done – to our relationship with our own children, or their relationship with each other. Light fittings to be bought, wall cupboards to put in. It’s quite different, he thought. A new house, a new family, is a completely different world. He felt decidedly better this morning. A little safer. It’s a miracle, he decided. He touched the fresh wallpaper. He had slept well, woken early. Don’t worry, he had promised his wife as they embraced before sleeping, she’ll come round. Now he stood in the kitchen sizing up the new fridge, the new oven, new sink, all perfectly fitting in a domestic dazzle of polish and lacquer. The little dog snapped at his feet. Pushing back the curtain – she had even managed to get curtains made – he saw there was a TV van outside.
Rather talk to you in person, squire, than on the phone, Frank told him in a low voice. Daniel spent the morning getting to know the house and playing with Tom. With the help o
f the police a bargain was struck whereby three cameramen were allowed into the front room for exactly ten minutes. The sunglasses are no good, they complained. We need the patch. Hilary was angry. Blacks in sunglasses make them think of pimps, Daniel whispered. He smiled. He was good-natured. Best-Bred Bloke in Britain, the Mail would say. For two minutes he let them film him sitting over a fake game of chess with Tom, patting the dog – what’s he called again? – then standing at the French windows with Hilary. Wolf, she whispered. It was a warm day. We don’t want the general public to identify the house, the policeman insisted. Wolfie! Hilary called. Everybody loves a dog, the cameramen agreed. Afterwards Tom wanted to play something together on the computer, but Daniel said his eye ached. The TV comes out of your room, he insisted. Your father’s right, Hilary said. She was breaking up cardboard boxes. Then when she drove the boy off to his football, Daniel at last had the privacy to make his phone calls. A mobile of his own would be essential.
Frank said he had earned his keep, as it were, but they must talk face to face. Fucked if I tell you over the phone then don’t see the cash for weeks. How had his brother come to speak like this? It wasn’t so much a working class accent he’d adopted as that of the society card, the racecourse tipster. I’ll see what I can do. Good on you, squire. Agitated, Daniel remembered he must wipe the number off the gadget’s memory. He wrote down Frank’s address. More and more police reports spoke of mobile phone memories.
He called the Shields. Christine answered. She wanted to move into Carlton Street immediately. Despite the sophisticated voice, her anxiety was unmistakable. The exchange of contracts was at five tomorrow. He’s doing it in order to push me out, she said. I can feel it. He refuses to talk at all now. So if that’s what he wants, I’ll go. I can’t fight it any more. I can’t bear it. He lies in his room, doesn’t eat, doesn’t talk. It’s been going on for months. For months! I don’t know what to say, Daniel told her. Her voice was so present to him he felt he was seeing her there in her panelled hallway, trembling, hugging her breasts tight. Then for some reason, the cab company wouldn’t answer. He could get to Frank’s and back, he thought, having looked up the address, before Hilary reappeared with Tom. It shouldn’t be difficult. If only he could call a cab. But now they put him on hold for an age. The line broke up.