Either Side of Midnight (The Midnight Saga Book 1)

by Tori de Clare

  Naomi took a deep breath then exhaled, ‘No.’

  17

  They slipped through the back door, Naomi painfully conscious of her ring, sure it was flashing like a lighthouse beacon. Lorie was alone in the kitchen, Naomi hugged her, introduced her to Nathan and dashed off to get changed. Time was short. She picked a beige-coloured silk dress she’d bought in the summer and used for her last recital with the Junior Royal Northern. No one at this party had ever seen it. The recital had gone well so the dress held no nightmarish memories. It was off the shoulder and slightly low cut at the front and back. Her accessories were black and sparkly: earrings, bracelet. She wore black shoes. She wouldn’t part with her necklace.

  Music had started playing downstairs. A surprise. Nice touch, she smiled. Annie wouldn’t be impressed, but then a rock band over dinner would hardly be right. She took a last check in the mirror and found she was humming along to what was being played downstairs: Handel’s Water Music.

  The upstairs was empty as Naomi clutched the bannister and made her way down the main staircase into the hall. Her new diamond sparkled as it caught the light. The platinum was chunky, the stone huge. Naomi couldn’t even guess at a cost. Camilla would think it was fake and had cost a fiver. Time to go downstairs and join what sounded like a buzzing crowd.

  Nathan was waiting in the hall with Lorie and another guy.

  ‘You look amazing,’ Nathan whispered as she reached the hallway. He turned to finish his sentence about football to the shy-looking guy beside him, who was about the same age. Lorie was linking the guy’s arm.

  ‘This is Simon,’ Lorie said, at the same moment Naomi worked it out.

  Simon was wearing a navy suit and a sensible haircut parted on the side. He lunged forward nervously and shook Naomi’s hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  Lorie noticed the ring and gasped. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘A present from Nathan,’ Naomi said, finding herself colouring. Lorie held Naomi’s hand up and stared, open-mouthed.

  ‘Mum’s coming,’ Naomi said, snatching her hand away at the formidable sight of Camilla emerging from the dining room, the picture of elegance in a mauve chiffon dress and a double row of pearls.

  ‘There you are,’ Camilla said, gliding towards them in a cloud of perfume, smile painted on. Naomi found she was hiding her hand. ‘I thought you’d got lost. Happy birthday.’ Her eyes flicked up and down. ‘Not your colour that, Naomi. Drains your complexion. Bold colours suit you much better. Red. Deep purple.’

  ‘I think she looks beautiful,’ Nathan said.

  Camilla’s attention shifted to Nathan. ‘She always looks beautiful, Nathaniel, but certain shades enhance her natural colouring more than others. It is Nathaniel isn’t it, your proper name?’

  ‘I was christened Nathaniel, yes.’

  ‘Well, it’s good of you to come.’ The brief smile was tight. ‘We’re about ready to sit down for dinner. Everyone has arrived, so my list informs me.’ She faced Lorie. ‘Loretta, you’ve done a first-class job as always, but I insist you relax now and consider yourself a guest. I’ve told myself do the same. The chef assures me he has everything in hand.’

  Camilla filed off to the dining room. Everyone followed like sheep. The dining room was littered with bodies, most of them around Annabel who was talking animatedly and entertaining her little audience. She stood out in a short pale-pink dress, thin straps across the shoulders, glossy pink lips, hair free-flowing, wavy, full. Only Siobhan stood alone, wearing the same outfit as she had to the Freshers’ dinner. She was on the peripheries of the little group that made up Naomi’s flatmates, but they weren’t including her.

  As soon as Annabel spotted Naomi, she stopped talking midsentence and rushed over to hug her. Nathan got a tight squeeze too, a very long one for a virtual stranger. It was interrupted by Henry clinking his glass with a spoon. Naomi looked round in time to see Camilla snatch it off him. She jabbed a few words into his ear. Henry responded by raising his voice and saying, ‘Good evening everybody.’

  A hush settled over the room. The musicians stopped playing. All heads turned to Henry, who was wearing a black bowtie, black suit, crisp white shirt. Camilla had fixed a neutral expression.

  ‘Good evening,’ Henry said again, able to lower his voice. ‘It’s wonderful to have you here tonight on the occasion of Annabel and Naomi’s nineteenth birthday.’ Henry paused to consult a small piece of paper in his hand. ‘We’ve borrowed the best chef in the area. He’s brought two able assistants.’ Henry indicated to the doorway where an Italian-looking man stood in a white apron, pin-striped. He nodded slightly. ‘So if it’s not up to scratch, you’ll know where to send your complaints.’ A ripple of laughter broke out along with a small wave of applause for the chef, who then disappeared.

  Henry glanced at his paper. ‘We’re going to be entertained over dinner by our string quartet. They’ve been playing together for two years now, they inform me.’ All eyes fell on the corner of the room where three of the four players stood, instruments in hand to acknowledge the comments. They were wearing a typical uniform of white shirts, dark trousers. Naomi couldn’t see the viola player. There was another polite wave of applause.

  ‘Now,’ Henry said, ‘we limited the girls to five guests each. Annabel could have brought a hundred, but the shortlist for the night includes Lydia, Barney, Dominic, Holly and Erica. Naomi has brought five new friends from college.’ Henry needed his list this time. ‘There’s Megan and Madeline, Bridget and Siobhan and, where is he?’ Henry searched the room unnecessarily. Camilla squirmed as the silence stretched into a few seconds, forcing Nathan to raise his hand. ‘There he is. Nathan.’ Camilla loaded his ear with some information. ‘Who is not from college,’ he added. ‘Our other two guests just there,’ he pointed Lorie out, ‘are Lorie Taylor and her partner, Simon Wilde. Lorie has looked after, first, our girls, and now the running of house for almost seven years. She knows the place as well as we do and is responsible for much of the planning tonight. She’s like a third daughter to us.’ Camilla nodded approvingly. ‘As most of you will know, Annabel jets off to Japan for a new adventure in her gap year,’ he glanced at his watch, ‘in about thirteen hours. We’ll miss her very much, but wish her all the best. Just come home in one piece please, darling, and don’t bring an army of new friends. You have quite enough.’ Henry finished, looking at Annabel. People clapped and laughed. ‘So if you’d like to find your places at the table. Let battle commence.’

  Naomi found her name. Nathan found his. Siobhan plonked down beside Nathan looking completely miserable about the whole evening. Naomi knew that a long face didn’t necessarily mean she wasn’t enjoying herself. To Naomi’s left was one of Annie’s male friends, Barney. He was opposite Siobhan, who didn’t know where to look. Lorie was exactly in the middle opposite Simon, and Annie was at the other end of the table beside Henry, who had the end seat not far from the string quartet. Megan and Madeline were close to Annie. Bridget – who’d recently split from Max and was still in the life’s-not-worth-living-without-him stage – was opposite Dominic. There were seven seated on each length and Camilla and Henry headed each end.

  The music started up again – Bach’s Air on a G string. Naomi noticed there was only one vacant seat now to her right and to Nathan’s left. She looked round the room and found the only person still standing.

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  Camilla had offered wine three times to Nathan. Three times, he’d declined and filled up with water instead. Camilla eyed him while he chatted politely with Siobhan about her favourite repertoire for the flute and life at the Royal Northern and Manchester in general, and before that, in Dublin. Two courses had gone by. Camilla had considered telling Naomi about Tom Butterworth. Tom’s back was to the table. His straw hair was much shorter than it used to be, and darker too, if she wasn’t mistaken. He hadn’t looked round once. He was an excellent string player doing a sterling job, minding his own business. There seemed little point drawing Naomi’s atte
ntion to him. Even Annabel, who was only about six feet away from Tom, was so disconnected to the music that Tom might as well have been a robot. She was lost in conversation, always. No, things were running smoothly to Camilla’s left. Naomi was chatting happily to Barney. Camilla was waiting to make her move to her right now.

  When Nathan was distracted with food and had stopped talking to Siobhan, she said, ‘So you studied philosophy Nathaniel?’

  Nathan swallowed his food and made brief eye contact. ‘I did, yeah.’

  ‘Was it useful?’

  ‘Extremely.’

  ‘What attracted you to such a . . . let’s say an abstract subject?’

  Annabel collapsed into loud giggles at the other end of the table, but Camilla kept her eyes firmly fixed on Nathan.

  Nathan drew breath. ‘Well, in a nutshell, I had no interest in pursuing well-trodden paths. I’ve always had questions. I wanted answers and I wanted to study the art of critical thinking and reasoning. Thinking is so underrated, don’t you think?’

  ‘Can’t say I’ve given it much thought,’ Camilla obliged, with a smile.

  Nathan reciprocated. ‘Exactly. We live in crazy times. We’re bombarded with advertising and endless marketing and people are being brainwashed. I didn’t want to be a puppet without really stopping to analyse what I’m doing and why. Politics winds me up. It’s all about image and sound-bites and who looks the best in public. It’s a huge pile of utter nonsense. There’s no real democracy in this country. My opinion only.’

  ‘I see,’ Camilla said, taking a shallow sip of wine. ‘I agree that there does appear to be an awful lot of hot air and little substance. Who’s best at question-dodging and who’s most skilful at being dishonest while prattling on about integrity, is an enormous problem for sure.’ She stopped talking and looked at him very directly. ‘So did you find answers to your questions?’

  ‘There are always answers,’ Nathan said. ‘Just not enough intellectual brainpower to grasp things.’

  ‘And what are these burning questions you have?’

  Nathan stopped eating and held her eyes. ‘How to apply logic to life. How to avoid deception. How to filter what’s real from what’s not. How to recognise truth, if truth can be defined. If truth exists at all. Then there’s existence itself.’

  ‘Rather deep.’ Camilla took another swallow of wine, dabbed her lips.

  ‘Ever heard of Carnegie?’

  ‘I’ve heard of Carnegie Hall in New York.’

  ‘Named after Andrew Carnegie who paid for it to be built. He started life as a nobody, but became one of the wealthiest men in history.’ Nathan paused. ‘I once came across one of his quotes. He said, “The man who acquires the ability to take possession of his own mind may take possession of anything else”.’

  A short pause. ‘Thought provoking,’ Camilla said.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Camilla was unsettled beneath Nathan’s gaze. A change of subject, perhaps. ‘And why don’t you drink, Nathaniel?’

  ‘The short answer is I don’t want to,’ he replied, setting about his food again.

  ‘And the long answer?’

  He nodded thoughtfully. ‘My brother has an alcohol problem. I resent what it’s done to him and my family. My way of exacting my revenge is by refusing to drink. It’s probably not very logical.’

  ‘Understandable though,’ Camilla said, managing a smile that she hoped would relax him. ‘Tell me about your family.’

  Camilla knew she had his full attention, but he kept her waiting by pouring more water and placing the jug carefully down before he spoke again. ‘I’ve got a younger brother, the one I was just talking about, Dan, who’s twenty-three.’ He shrugged. ‘There’s just the two of us.’

  ‘Is he still at home?’

  ‘Er, no. He has a flat. He lives by himself.’

  ‘Naomi has never mentioned him or your parents to me.’

  Nathan looked her in the eye while his fork twisted pasta lengths. ‘That’s probably because she’s never met my family. I don’t have a good relationship with my parents.’

  ‘Oh?’ Her eyebrows rose, inviting him to go on.

  ‘It’s complicated. Dan’s got schizophrenia and my parents virtually abandoned him when he needed them most. He might not have turned to drink with their support. I spend every other weekend with him now. I can’t be a hypocrite and have a relationship with them after the way they’ve treated Dan. That’s why Naomi won’t be meeting them anytime soon.’

  Naomi was still holding a conversation with Barney. She didn’t seem to be listening. Camilla kept her voice low. Nathan guided his fork inside his mouth.

  ‘Do they even know about Naomi?’

  Nathan, mouth full, shook his head. ‘Not yet.’

  Camilla had about stopped eating. ‘Without wishing to sound insensitive, is your brother any sort of a danger?’

  Nathan emptied his mouth before he replied. ‘Not to me. But he doesn’t cope well with new people and his behaviour can be unpredictable sometimes. That’s why I daren’t introduce him to Naims. It wouldn’t be good for either of them.’

  ‘Naims?’ Camilla said, irritated, feigning confusion.

  ‘Naomi.’

  ‘I don’t like to shorten names.’

  ‘Whereas I do,’ Nathan said, unapologetically. He even smiled.

  Camilla drew a long breath and blotted her lips with a napkin. The pasta – long multi-coloured ribbons with mushrooms and ham – was deliciously tasty, but was loaded with cheese and cream and left a film of grease.

  ‘Grandparents?’ Camilla pressed.

  ‘The only one alive is my mum’s mum, who moved to the States with her second husband before I was born. I’ve only met her a few times.’

  ‘So you’re not a close family.’

  ‘I’d say we were close before Dan was ill. Things changed after that. Unexpected problems can blow families apart, can’t they? What about you?’

  Camilla was thrown. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  Nathan settled a steady gaze on her. ‘What was your relationship like with your parents?’

  Camilla hesitated, struggling to find the part in the script where he questioned her. It wasn’t there. ‘When I was young, my father was in the army away from home a lot,’ she babbled, saying more than she meant to. Her neck felt hot. ‘My mother was rather detached, let’s say.’

  ‘So you weren’t close either. You’ll understand that families can be complex.’

  ‘This is becoming rather personal,’ Camilla said, patting her lips again.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Nathan looked up. ‘I thought we were having a personal discussion. It’s as exposing for me to share details about my life and family as it is for you.’

  Camilla cleared her throat. ‘Well my parents aren’t my entire family, Nathaniel. I have a family of my own now. And I’m very proud of my girls.’

  Nathan took another sip of iced water. ‘I’m sure you are. Naomi is so talented. She played for me last week.’

  ‘Did she?’ Camilla asked, not sounding pleased suddenly. She leant closer to ensure privacy. ‘Has she told you how important music is to her? How she must give all her concentration to these few college years before her chance to develop and improve slips away? Do you understand my daughter’s potential and what is important to her?’

  Nathan looked at Camilla for a long time, as if he was struggling to select the right words. ‘I hope so,’ he eventually said. ‘But I’m not a musician so maybe I don’t fully understand. Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?’

  Encouraged, Camilla pushed the remaining food to one side as if she’d lost the patience and the appetite to finish it. Naomi was leaning across the table engaging Siobhan in conversation. She seemed oblivious. Camilla placed her cutlery in the middle of her plate and shifted her chair a little closer to the right. She’d longed for an opportunity like this. She may not get another.

  ‘If you think anything of my daughter, you’ll unders
tand that her world is not yours,’ she explained, like he was three years old. ‘Music is a discipline. Her devotion has come at the cost of being popular and having friendships and the kind of social life Annabel has always had. Naomi is not like other girls. She’s never followed the crowds or time-wasted as teenagers do. All her work . . . it has to mean something in the future.’ She paused for emphasis. ‘It has to count.’

  ‘Or else?’

  Camilla frowned. ‘Or else it’ll have been for nothing. Don’t you see?’

  Camilla paused to search Nathan’s eyes, hoping for a flicker of comprehension.

  Nathan didn’t oblige, though he said, ‘I agree.’

  Camilla let go of some tension. ‘Good, then you’ll understand why –’

  Nathan cut in. ‘That is, I agree with the part that she isn’t like other girls. That’s why I fell in love with her. And I agree that her music training has come at the cost of relationships, but I don’t think that’s been a choice for her. She was miserable alone. She consoled herself with her necklace and three prayers a day. I don’t think she’d have labelled it as misery at the time, but now she has friendships and a relationship with me, she can compare the difference and she wouldn’t turn the clock back.’

  Camilla was struggling to keep her voice down now. ‘You barely know her.’

  ‘I barely know her?’ Nathan gave up on eating. Shock pinned Camilla to her chair. What was he insinuating? She wasn’t sure she could move, she was only sure she was desperate to. Nathan took advantage of the silence. ‘I know how I feel about her and how she feels about me. I know that she loves music and she’s an incredible pianist, but that performing terrifies her. Do you know how anxious she becomes before a performance? Can’t eat, can’t sleep. She struggles constantly with self-doubt. She has low self-esteem. She beats herself up for days for making tiny mistakes.’

  Low self-esteem? My Naomi? The heat around Camilla’s neck was increasing. ‘I think you’re grossly exaggerating,’ she managed, with effort.