Green Light

by JG Alva

  She was busy thinking. He could imagine what was going through her mind, probably one of two things: wondering how Daniel was going to react to this or how things should have turned out. How this scene must have played different in her mind; how she had come here to gain an ally, not reinforce a standoff. She had offered herself to him, and he had turned her down, and she was a beautiful enough woman so that she could probably count the number of times that had happened on the fingers of one hand. No woman’s ego can accept that without some form of bruise. She had looked at files and documents about him and had seen an easy going man who sat on his money, but anyone could have told her that there is more to a person than what you can find on paper. If there wasn’t, then he would get more portrait commissions.

  She turned and left. She gave him a miserable look full of bright hate and then she walked out the door. Her hips were narrow, her bottom small, but even if he didn’t want her, it was still a very visually pleasing sight. Sutton sighed. He had made another enemy; a smart, attractive and – potentially – a dangerous one.

  Just get in line, he thought.

  Get in fucking line.

  *

  CHAPTER 13

  It had started to rain.

  He took them to a little Italian restaurant not far from the centre, all of them dashing from the taxi and into the narrow doorway in an attempt to avoid drowning. Inside, it wasn’t a particularly glamorous place – with its low ceilings, white flower-patterned wallpaper and minimal lighting – but the food was good. Maggie liked the busy walls on either side of the bar with its autographed photographs of so many famous faces, faces that had all come into this restaurant at some time or another, over the years; she was eating where the stars had eaten. Down the road, the Bristol Vic had supported these same actors before they became the big names they were today.

  Something had happened since he had seen them that morning. Angela would hardly speak to him, and Maggie kept staring at him, trying to convey some message or other with her eyes. They were shown to table at the far end of the restaurant, beside windows looking out on to the already dark street. The sound of the ferocious rain was dulled. Angela and Maggie both sat across from him, the former barely able to meet his eye. He didn’t know what he had done.

  She looked amazing. She was wearing very tight black trousers, and a very simple but very smart blouse. Her mother eclipsed her for colour, but not for style. Maggie wore a bright red dress which, in Sutton’s opinion, had too many pleated folds in it. Maggie glittered with jewels on her fingers, wrists, collar, ears and throat, whereas Angela only wore little teardrop earrings. The waiter came and took their order, and then there was nothing left to distract them.

  An awkward silence ensued.

  Maggie looked between the two of them, cleared her throat and said, “Suzanne came to visit me today.”

  He looked at Angela quickly. She had flinched at the name.

  “She did, did she,” he said.

  “Hm.”

  “What did she want?”

  “I think to extend an olive branch,” Maggie said. “But the effect she had was quite the opposite.”

  “She has a gift for that,” he remarked.

  Now Angela looked at him. Her gaze was cold.

  “So you admit it,” Angela said. She sounded betrayed.

  He frowned.

  “Why would I deny it?”

  Angela looked to Maggie.

  “Mum…”

  “I told you, let’s hear his side of it first,” she said, placing a calming hand on her arm.

  “What am I supposed to have done?”

  Maggie debated, and then said, “what did she come to see you for?”

  Sutton shrugged.

  “The same thing. Maybe I was a trial run.”

  “A trial run?”

  “For you.”

  “Oh.” Maggie frowned, and shook her head. “Was that all?”

  “She made it pretty clear that she was afraid of Daniel. That this whole thing over Green Light was pushing him to the edge. Is Daniel violent?”

  “No,” Maggie said, as if the idea was shocking. “No. He’s never been violent.”

  “He has a temper, mother,” Angela said.

  “Well. I’ve never seen it.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s not there,” Angela continued.

  Sutton said, “she was also a little…friendlier, than the first time I met her.”

  Angela was staring at him.

  “What happened?” Maggie asked.

  Attending to the knives and forks in front of him on the table, he said, “she made strong overtures towards me.” He looked at Angela. “Which I of course refused.”

  Maggie breathed a sigh.

  “See,” she said to her daughter. “I told you to wait for his side of it.”

  “But he would say that,” Angela protested.

  “Why would I?” He said, putting a little steel in his voice.

  “I don’t believe it,” Angela said, her stubborn little mouth giving nothing away, no smiles, no warmth. “No man could turn her down. No man.”

  Sutton said, “if you think so little of me, it’s a wonder you decided to come tonight.”

  Angela dipped her head down.

  Sullenly, she said, “mother said we owed it to you to come.”

  “You don’t owe me anything, Maggie,” Sutton said. To Angela: “but you…”

  Her head came up.

  “What?”

  “You owe me lots.”

  “What?”

  “You can start with an apology.”

  She stared at him, her face hard with pent up fury.

  “Did you sleep with her?” She demanded. “Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t sleep with her.”

  Maggie shifted uncomfortably.

  “Angela, please…”

  Staring directly at her, Sutton said to Angela, “I didn’t sleep with her.”

  They stared at each other in silence – a war raging between their looks – until the waiter returned with their drinks, and they were forced to divert their attentions elsewhere.

  “Then that’s settled,” Maggie said, in the tones of a mother settling a dispute between her children.

  Sutton said, “Angela, why do you think Suzanne paid you a visit in the first place? Do you think it was because she really wanted to heal the rift between your families? It’s because she’s worried about this deal, because they have so much riding on it, and she thought she might persuade your mother to relent. But when that didn’t work – as I assume it didn’t” – he looked to Maggie, and she smiled in confirmation – “then the best she could do would be to disrupt your trust in me. She knew I was helping you. And maybe she thought she would try and get a little bit of revenge too. She’s angry, and it got directed at you. But she only won because you believed her. If you hadn’t, we’d be sitting here enjoying a nice meal, not fighting between ourselves. I didn’t sleep with her. I didn’t sleep with her. I didn’t sleep with her. I’ll write it down a hundred times if that will make you feel better. Or get it tattooed on my back.”

  Angela stared at him, and there was indecision in her face.

  She looked to her mother.

  Maggie tilted her head, as if to say make up your own mind.

  But she said, “I believe him. He’s like his father. There never was such an honest man.”

  She stared at him some more.

  “Alright,” she said eventually, quietly.

  Maggie said, “good.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “I’m sorry,” Angela said.

  “It is possible for a human being to be a man and be a good person at the same time,” Sutton said, with a little humour.

  Angela nodded.

  “Alright.”

  “But maybe you need a little proof.”

  A small black box was in his pocket. He took it ou
t and placed it on the table in front of her.

  “Oh my God,” Maggie said, almost frightened.

  Sutton smiled.

  “It’s not what you think,” he said, to allay her fears.

  Angela stared at it, and then at him.

  “For me?”

  He nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to. Because to me you’re worth it. Because to me you’re something special. Even if you don’t believe it about yourself.”

  Angela did not know what to say for a moment, and then she turned to the box and, hesitating a moment, finally opened it.

  Inside, resting on a bed of red velvet, was a small gold chain with a very special pendant on it.

  “Sutton,” she said, shaking her head and starting to cry.

  “I saw it and I thought of you,” he said.

  “I don’t deserve it,” she said. “After what I just said –“

  Maggie said, “you never did think before opening your mouth.”

  Angela stared at the necklace some more, and then held it up.

  “Will you help me put it on?”

  “Of course,” he said, and got out of his chair to fasten it around her neck.

  “Thank you,” she said, as he sat back down.

  “Now that’s sorted,” Maggie said, “can we get back to our nice night out?”

  But Angela hadn’t heard her. She was holding the pendant up to the light, so that she could see all the detail in it.

  “Like it?” He asked.

  “I do.” She smiled. “Very appropriate.”

  “It will be,” he said. “If you start again.”

  “I already have,” she said.

  The pendant was a small golden painter’s palette with two brushes laid across it.

  *

  After that, the evening went easier.

  Maggie chattered and warbled on about her day in the shop, about this property that she had secured a renter for, or that property she had secured to act as an agent for, while Angela and he listened. The waiter came over and immediately warmed to Maggie, who was probably a little more human than most of his customers. He recommended dishes, they ordered, and Angela and Maggie both laughed at their own foolishness.

  On one of Maggie’s rare trips to the toilet Angela leaned over the table and whispered to him, “we shouldn’t have brought her along.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think she and the waiter are going to get married.”

  He smiled.

  “She needed to get out. And she wasn’t the only one.”

  Angela sat back. Wounded, he thought.

  “Oh?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake…You look fantastic, Angela.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sutton had always appreciated a woman’s reaction to a compliment. When they are pleased that they are appreciated, it pleased him, because tacit in every compliment is a returning one: that the person giving the compliment means something to them.

  “I’m not him,” he said, slightly annoyed still.

  She stiffened.

  “Who?”

  “Him. The man who hurt you. Whoever he was.”

  “Has Mum been talking to you? What did she say?”

  “No, she hasn’t, Angela,” he said sternly, interrupting her. “It’s just in your behaviour: in the way you look at me, the way you act. Like you expect me to shit on you at every opportunity. I’m not him, Angela. Are you getting me?”

  She nodded, chastised, he thought. He had been harsh, but it needed to be said.

  Maggie came back and ordered more drinks and as things progressed the edges got fuzzy. Alcohol was the great lubricator, and insecurities and worries were cast off. They laughed a lot. The food was fantastic. After the third alcoholic beverage both Angela and Sutton stopped, but Maggie carried on, getting louder and louder until she all but collapsed with exhaustion.

  “Thank you, Sutton, for a wonderful meal,” Maggie said, when they were on their coffees.

  “It was my pleasure, Maggie.”

  “It was very nice, Sutton,” Angela said.

  “I didn’t cook it,” he said. “I only paid for it.”

  Maggie waved her hand dismissively.

  “Half the meal’s the company anyway,” she said, and the rings on her fingers flashed at him. “And this is the best company I’ve kept for a while.”

  Sutton smiled…but then he had to let it drop.

  “I hate to ask this,” he said. “But I need to know more about Suzanne Rice.”

  All the mirth seemed to die in Angela’s face.

  “Do we have to?” Maggie asked, with a quick glance at her daughter.

  Sutton nodded grimly.

  “I need to know how dangerous she is. She’s not afraid to act. Look at today. God alone knows what she is going to do tomorrow.”

  Maggie debated while she sipped her coffee.

  She put the cup down and said, “well…she’s perfect for Daniel. She absolutely lavishes attention on him. And she’s so very pretty. He was lucky to get her. I told him that a number of times.”

  “How did they meet?”

  “It was Robert, of all people, that introduced them. Her brother. Terry knew him, God knows from where, but they were good friends. Both thought of themselves as Men About Town. One day Suzanne walked in to pick up Bobby and she and Daniel both fell head over heels for each other. Just like that.”

  “But she drinks,” Angela said.

  Maggie looked at her.

  “No, she doesn’t.”

  “You’re the one that told me she did.”

  “One time,” Maggie corrected. “I only ever saw her drunk once. Everyone’s entitled to let their hair down once in a while. I must admit it did leave me somewhat...embarrassed, but people do strange things when they’ve had a few.”

  “What happened?” He asked.

  “Oh, she got into a row at the bar with a man she thought had stolen her drink.” Maggie made a face, remembering. “He was nobody, just a stranger, but she didn’t half let fly at him. I wouldn’t have believed it of her if I hadn’t seen it myself. It got to the point where I thought she might try and scratch his eyes out, but Daniel led her away before anything happened. It wasn’t like her. She’s usually so nice.” Sutton saw a recollection of the day’s events flit behind Maggie’s eyes. “Well. Maybe she isn’t. Not really. Not after what she said today.”

  “Hm.”

  Just before they were about to leave Angela excused herself to go to the bathroom. Maggie watched her go, shrugging on her coat without actually getting out of her seat. Sutton knew she had been waiting for just such a moment. She looked at him quickly, took one last sip of the night from her coffee cup and with a quick check on the toilet door leaned toward him.

  “You’ve called a taxi?” She asked.

  “Two. Yours should be outside now.”

  “Sutton,” Maggie said. She glanced quickly toward the bar, and toward the door to the toilets on the other side of it. “Don’t let her get in the taxi with me. Take her home with you.”

  He rubbed his forehead, covering a smile. It had been foretold in the cards, this moment. Mother hen looking after her brood, yet again.

  “I don’t know, Maggie. Things aren’t exactly great between us tonight.”

  “That’s why,” she protested. “Honestly, the girl doesn’t know her arse from her elbow, excuse me. She’s lovely, don’t get me wrong, I love her with all my heart, but…you’ve got to clip her around the back of the head before she does anything. She’s always been like it, but now she’s lazy as well. University did that to her. Look at that room she’s doing upstairs above Green Light. That’s taken her a bloody month to do and she’s still not finished. If I’d hired somebody to do it they’d be done by now.” Maggie sighed. “She’s so much like her father it’s worrying. Typical Everleigh. You had to give him a push before he did
anything as well. And once they started they enjoyed it, and then you couldn’t get them to stop.” She looked guilty. “Well...you know what I mean.”

  “You shouldn’t put her down so much,” he said to Maggie. “She went to that engagement party to help you, not for any other reason. Daniel treated her like shit. She put up with all of that for you.”

  “I know,” Maggie said, shamed. “It’s just that I’ve always wanted a boy. Angela was her father’s daughter, there’s no doubt about that. They got on so well it made me jealous. I never understood her really, but her father did. And then when he passed away and I met Terry, well...the divide got wider.” She touched his arm. “I don’t love her any less, it’s just that we...don’t get on so well. That’s all. You understand?”

  He nodded. He wasn’t there to solve personal problems with this family, and even if he had wanted to, he didn’t know if he could.

  “And there was a guy,” Maggie said, in hushed tones. She was fulfilling her daughter’s predictions of confession. “At university. Barry something or other. Broke her heart, I think. Poor girl. But she’s got to pick herself up. I can’t stand all this moping about.” She paused. “Ask her about that picture she’s done of you.”

  “What?”

  Maggie nodded.

  “She’s drawn a portrait of you. It’s very good. All those years away at school weren’t wasted, it seems.”

  He saw Angela come out of the bathroom. He felt something hot and pleasant in the pit of his stomach as he watched Angela coming toward them. It was in the sway of her hips, the totally feminine way she held herself. She was putting something in her purse. When she looked up she must have seen something on his face, because, for just a moment, her step faltered. Then she smiled brilliantly.

  In the hall they all buttoned up their coats. They could hear the rain outside, and it hadn’t seemed to have slackened at all. Maggie looked out through the slightly fogged glass and exclaimed at a car waiting at the pavement.

  “There’s my taxi,” she said. “I’ll see you two tomorrow. Thank you for a lovely evening, Sutton.”

  “My pleasure, Maggie.”

  “Mother-“

  Angela made as if to go after her but Maggie was already out on the pavement running toward the taxi, in the stiff-jointed way women in high heels always do. As if they’re on stilts. Her heels clacked loudly, gradually quieting as the door shut behind her. She ran bent at the waist and all but dived in to the back of the taxi. Sutton shook his head. This was Maggie’s matchmaking plan: duck and run.