The glance, over the wine glass, was speculative. Jay could see what Jonathan wanted to ask, but uncharacteristic discretion was holding his tongue. ‘I have to say it was a surprise when Neil topped himself,’ Jonathan carried on. ‘He was chilled, laid-back, everything was cool. But who knows what’s really in someone’s mind? Except Madison, that is?’
‘And she didn’t?’
‘No.’ Jonathan looked at his empty glass. ‘I need a refill.’ He ambled towards the bar. Jay was wondering if skulking beside a wall and avoiding the women who were giving him assessing glances really constituted reawakening his social skills, when Madison detached herself smoothly from the group she was with. The trip that his heart gave, as she approached him, was a small, alarming surprise.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Eating, and waiting for you.’ He offered her his mostly demolished plate. She took a stuffed olive and put it in her mouth, then let him feed her a cracker with prawns. ‘That is delicious.’ She was licking her fingers, when a matron in a flowing, purple dress sailed towards them. ‘Mrs Eugene. Very big corporate sponsor,’ she whispered before the woman reached them.
‘Dr Albi, I just had to speak to you. And your … friend.’ Her eyes slid over to Jay. She held out her hand. Jay ditched his plate to take it. ‘So unexpected,’ the woman murmured. ‘Madison usually comes to these things alone.’ She waved a dismissive hand at the room. Jay found the curiosity in her eyes was sharp but friendly.
‘Mr Jackson is … assisting me with my work,’ Madison responded hastily.
Emboldened by Mrs Eugene’s approach, several other people were drifting up. Jay found himself occupied with Mrs Eugene, while Madison was facing slightly away from him. The woman was pumping him for information, he realised, amused. Parrying her was stretching his wits, but he was managing it. Social interaction. Madison would be proud.
‘And tell me, Mr Jackson, how did you and our lovely Dr Albi meet?’
Jay, distracted by the brush of Madison’s arm on his back as she turned to greet a newcomer, found his thoughts a complete blank. Hubris. Mrs Eugene was waiting, expectant.
‘How did we meet? Not the version with the iron bar.’ He felt the stutter of shock from Madison as he slid into her mind. He telegraphed apology, and mild panic. ‘Mrs Eugene!’
‘Oh … Washington, DC.? Conference?’
‘Thanks.’
Madison stalked up to Jay as he refreshed their drinks. ‘I can’t believe we just did that.’
‘What?’ He handed her a glass. ‘That’s yours. The lipstick’s not my shade.’
‘You know what I mean. We had a conversation, in a public place, without actually speaking to each other.’ There was a tremor in her voice.
‘Yes.’
‘Oh my God.’
‘What’s the problem?’ He shoved his glass on the table, so that he could close his hands, lightly, over her shoulders. ‘It’s not such a big deal. I was floundering, you helped me out. Mrs Eugene went away happy. Why does it bother you so much?’
‘I … I’ve never done anything like that before.’
He frowned. ‘Can’t say if I ever have.’ He gave her shoulders a small shake. ‘Don’t panic. I won’t do it again if it worries you.’
‘It isn’t that.’
Madison’s head was swimming. Jay was watching her face and mouth. Intense. For a second she thought he might kiss her. The feeling was so strong she found her chin tilting up. His eyes were incredibly dark, and softer than she’d ever seen them.
‘Madison?’ The sound of him saying her name brought her back to earth. Jay let her go and she immediately felt lost. ‘You’ve gone as white as a sheet. Take a moment. Go powder your nose or something.’ He gave her a gentle push. ‘Go!’
Reprieved, she fled to the cloakroom, almost cannoning into a waiter who was hovering near the door, with an empty tray. She ran cold water over hands that shook slightly. In the mirror her eyes were huge, her face pale. What did Jay see when he looked at her? A woman he could want? A desirable woman?
She shook her head. She had to put a hold on this now, before Jay detected her … lust … and all the other stuff. She put a finger up to the mouth of the woman in the mirror, focusing on the smoothness of the glass under her skin. Jay couldn’t know. Their conversation without words hadn’t panicked her because she didn’t like it. It had panicked her because it felt so right.
Back in the reception room, Jay had found himself an alcove. He propped himself on the edge of a table, and breathed in, deeply. His palms were damp and his throat tight. Now that Madison was gone, reaction was setting in.
He’d stepped in and out of her mind, so effortlessly that he almost hadn’t noticed it. It had taken her alarm and distress to show him.
And then the impulse to give more and take more, to overwhelm her, while she was vulnerable to him, to comfort her – he genuinely didn’t know what the impulse was. He’d almost kissed her, right there in the middle of the room. And she’d known; he was sure of it. She’d run when he told her to go. Wise girl.
He moved restlessly. A twinge of pain from his shoulder grounded him with a rush. It killed the want that was still heavy in his groin. He had to remember he was nothing. He had nothing to offer. He was worse than nobody. Even the clothes he stood up in came from another man.
Jay slumped on the studio’s small balcony, legs out, back braced against the wall. The scent of jasmine, from Madison’s pots, stole over the railings. The journey home, by taxi, had been a largely silent affair. He hadn’t known what to say to make things right, so he’d kept his mouth shut.
He dug his hands up into his hair. He ought to go – just leave. Let Madison have her life back. He was taking her money, her time and her talent, and in exchange he was disrupting her world. She didn’t need any more pain and violence in it. God knows, she’d had enough for anyone’s lifetime.
He shifted restlessly. Now that Madison had put him back together again he was fit to move on. A soft shudder ran through him when he assessed how far he’d come in the weeks he’d spent with Madison, and exactly what she’d given him in terms of healing and self-respect. He didn’t have his memory, but what did that matter, against Madison’s happiness. He could get a job – casual work at least – and a place in a hostel. He could still work with her, if she wanted, like all her other subjects. Go to the lab, by appointment, for an hour or so every week.
He folded his arms around himself, rocking forward. Who was he kidding? It wouldn’t be enough. Now that he knew—
If he left, then it had to be a total break. He had to disappear. Out of the picture, for good.
Before someone else got hurt. Before Madison got hurt.
Lurid flares of violence and blood danced, hectic, behind his eyes. He put up his hands to cover them. He’d been shutting them out, fooling himself that the nightmare was a one-off, that the visions in it weren’t real, lulling himself into believing that he could be normal. He wasn’t normal. He would never be normal. Maybe that was best. That he never found out what his memory had contained. He had a chance of a fresh start. Madison had given him that.
If the best he could do for Madison in return was to protect her from himself, then that was what he was going to do
God help him.
Chapter Twelve
‘So – she took him to a corporate fundraiser. Big fucking deal.’ Vic slung the report on to the floor. ‘Christ! It’s been weeks. This is so boring. She hasn’t found her way into his head yet and he hasn’t found his way into her knickers.’
Alec retrieved the papers, studying the photographs of Jay and Madison partying. ‘Don’t be so impatient. We’re still well on track,’ he pointed out mildly. ‘You know the plan, and the projected timeline, as well as I do. They have to build a relationship. We have to give them the chance to
do that. I’m sorry if you find it tedious.’ He tapped one of the pictures. ‘There was some sort of … incident … at the reception. Albi spent a while in the ladies and soon after that they left. Might have been an argument.’
‘Might have been an alien invasion. And if they’re arguing then they’re not jumping in the sack together.’
‘Could be a sign of … emotional tension.’
‘Emotional tension!’ Vic scoffed. ‘You’ve got to stop reading all that romantic novel crap – they fight because they really want to fuck? Give me strength! You know what I think? I think that your old buddy’s too bloody noble to jump her. That, or his dick’s too limp, after what happened to his wife.’
‘That’s an accepted medical theory is it? Being involved with violent death causes impotence?’
‘Causing violent death might.’ Vic leaned over, with a grin that left his dark eyes cold. ‘Remember – I got you sussed, sunshine. I know what this is about.’
‘You weren’t there.’
‘If I had been, he wouldn’t have got away with it.’
‘Maybe not,’ Alec said stiffly. ‘We’ll never know, will we?’
‘Nah.’ Vic lost interest in the tussle and began to punch buttons on his computer. The dormant video game that had been snoozing under the screensaver sprang to life. Vic began zapping aliens at lightning speed. After a dozen deaths, he flung the control down.
‘We’ve got to do something.’ It was almost a whine. ‘This is so boring. And Kong isn’t going to be a happy ape when he gets back from LA. Sod the timeline, he’s gonna expect something to have happened while he was away. He said, right back at the beginning, that we needed to give them some encouragement.’
‘I seem to remember you thought he was out of his tree.’
Vic made a rude gesture. ‘So? I’ve changed my mind – now I agree with the boss. He’s the ideas man. That’s why he is the boss, and I’m just a lowly computer jock.’
Alec snorted. ‘Modesty!’
Vic gave him the finger again. ‘You know that for this to work they’ve got to be fucking like bunnies. You’re the romance expert. What do we do?’
‘Sex isn’t necessarily required.’
Vic groaned. ‘It’s the best scenario, and it’ll be a lot more fun than sending fake waiters to take pictures of fat faces getting fatter.’ He tapped the slew of party pictures. ‘This is crap. C’mon, Alec, think of something. What can we do, to give them a push?’
‘Sightseeing?’ Jay looked up from the book he’d just taken from Madison’s shelf. ‘You really mean that? Like the Houses of Parliament, Tower Bridge, that sort of stuff?’
‘Why not?’ Madison had thought of this idea in the dark reaches of a semi-sleepless night. ‘We’ve been focusing on what’s going on inside your head. Maybe we should start looking at the outside. You had a life – you lived somewhere, worked somewhere. Maybe you went to the theatre, the opera. You must have had a favourite restaurant, bar, gym.’
‘You want to wander round London until I spot something I recognise?’
‘Hoping you would.’ She spread her hands. ‘Hoping we find a pattern.’
‘London is a big place. And there’s no guarantee that I even lived here.’
‘We’ll do New York next week.’ Madison let her impatience show. ‘You have a better idea?’
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘Not unless you’re prepared to start on the meds again. Thought not,’ he added, when she shook her head. ‘Okay. Let’s go see sights. Can I borrow this?’ He held up the book.
‘Of course. What is it?’
Jay showed her the cover, marking the place with his finger while he scrabbled for something to use as a bookmark. Madison handed over an old envelope.
‘If I remember rightly there are some good papers in there.’ She took the book from him. ‘A lot of these were given at a symposium I attended in Switzerland. Is this the one with,’ she moved the envelope, ‘mapping thought patterns?’
‘That’s what I was reading. It seemed to make sense.’ He was frowning. ‘Creed and Carver. They any good?’
‘The best, Creed anyway. Or at least, he used to be. There was a big scandal. I think he’s dead now.’ She looked at the clock. ‘We’ll take the Tube into town. Any suggestions on where we should start?’
‘Uh, no – your idea, you choose.’
Jay shrugged his way into his jacket. Neil’s jacket, he corrected himself, and stared in the mirror, trying to read his own eyes.
Madison was next door, getting ready to visit tourist attractions, and he was – bottling out of his plans to leave. Too much of a chickenshit coward to walk away and not look back. If he had any backbone in him at all, he should already be gone. He’d made up his mind to it. And had the best part of a night’s sleep as a result. Dreamless. Which had made him wonder – things he shouldn’t be wondering. Hopeful things.
Then, before he could haul back his wandering resolve from wherever the hell it was scrambling off to, Madison had come knocking at his door, with an offer of breakfast and her crazy plan to do the town. She’d looked at him with nothing but enthusiasm in her face, and he hadn’t had the simple guts to say no.
He couldn’t leave. Not yet. He needed another day, two days, perhaps a week. He needed to prepare himself, prepare her. That was the official story. The other one, the one he wasn’t taking out and looking at, was telling him, in a cold whisper, that he didn’t have the strength. He needed one more try at the wall, when Madison was ready. Then he would go.
He picked up his keys and walked slowly to the door, knowing what he was doing was wrong. Forget the wall. He had to haul his sorry ass out of this woman’s life. But not today. Today was too complicated.
One more day with Madison. He felt his heart kick. He could allow himself that. What kind of a threat to her could he be in crowded places, in broad daylight? After that – then he’d see. Something might happen today. He might see something he recognised. There could be a life out there somewhere, waiting for him.
Madison twirled in front the mirror, examining her reflection with a critical eye. The skirt was a gaudy mixture of silken scraps, floating mid calf over low-slung, slouchy suede boots. She’d paired it with a soft cream cotton top and a short jacket that matched the boots. She hesitated, looking back at the plain black trousers and white blouse laid out on the bed. This was a scientific exercise, not a date. She and Jay were conducting an experiment.
She hesitated. There was no reason that she shouldn’t look good while they experimented. In fact the decision she’d made last night depended on it. She’d told Jay on that first night, when she’d strong-armed him out of the car park, that she wasn’t afraid of him. Now she was going to prove it – to herself. She’d decided that at about 3 a.m.
She didn’t need to hide behind a professional uniform. She could take care of herself. She wasn’t going to let Jay become a threat. She wanted too much from him.
Jay regarded the pale, pillared front of the Opera House with a blank expression. ‘I think I can confidently say that I have never been here. Even though I can’t remember.’
Madison laughed. The sun was shining and the streets weren’t yet crowded. They’d had a second breakfast at a pavement café in one of the side streets on the edge of Covent Garden, drinking cappuccinos and sharing a muffin and watching the world go by. At her suggestion Jay had piloted them across the Piazza with perfect confidence, confirming that he had visited the area before. Maybe this was the way to unlock memory after all. The safe way.
She brushed the thought away as a man walked past her, blocking the sunlight for a second. Something hissed inside her head, making her turn to look after him as he continued down the street.
‘What is it?’ Jay frowned.
‘Nothing.’ She shrugged. ‘Next trick. Can you find the river f
rom here?’
They wandered back though the old flower market. Buskers were working the crowd. A classical quartet played Mozart and a man with a unicycle juggled with clubs. On the corner a stark white figure, looking like a statue, stood motionless on a pedestal. Not even an eye blinked. The passers by jumped, then broke into applause when the white-faced, white-clad young man suddenly moved, handing a pretty girl a red rose from out of his sleeve.
Jay saw Madison looking towards a stall selling jewellery and steered her over to it.
‘Why don’t you get those?’ He indicated a delicate pair of silver earrings, ivy twined around a dark green stone.
‘Do you think they’d suit me?’ she asked, picking them up. ‘I’ve never worn anything like this.’ She held them up to her ear.
Jay looked at the way the silver strands caressed the slope of her neck and took a firm grip on his hormones. You started this.
Shame and honesty and a bitter-edged sense of lost chances clenched at his stomach. Might as well come out and say what was in his mind. ‘I’d buy them for you, but it’s your money I’d be using.’
Madison looked from him to the earrings.
‘It really doesn’t matter—’
‘It does.’ He touched the silverwork. ‘If you like them, get them.’
The stall holder had come over, to make a sale. Jay wandered away, looking at an adjoining table that had all sizes and shapes of kites. Madison studied his back. What he’d said – it had implied that he wanted to buy her gifts. She handed over her money, receiving the tissue-wrapped parcel in exchange. She shook off the idea. Jay wanted to repay her for what she was trying to do for him, that was all.
‘Come on.’ She put all the brightness she could into her voice. ‘You still have to find the river.’
Out of Sight Out of Mind (Choc Lit) Page 13