That was a bit of a lie, but still … he was toned. He’d have ‘em gagging for it at the nightclub. So long as it was a skinny one gagging for it. Charlie couldn’t abide fat and flabby. Made him puke. Which reminded him, the tart had spewed in the kitchen. Must have been feeling a bit dodgy, poor cow. But then, they had to learn who was boss, as far as Charlie was concerned. There’d be no bloody men left in fifty years’ time if they didn’t reassert themselves. Wiping some aftershave under his armpits, Charlie headed for the door, feeling pleased with himself.
He was hot to trot tonight, no doubt about it. The heroin had hit the spot.
****
Kayla wriggled into her leggings and pulled her trackie top over her snake-print cami, which wasn’t quite appropriate attire for such a sombre occasion. The rose tattoo on her left boob they wouldn’t be overjoyed about either.
She dropped her smokes and mobile into her backpack and had a quick check she had everything she needed: make-up bag, earrings, platform shoes, spare knickers … She scanned the room. Ah, yes, and Chloé. She popped that in for good measure, then inched her door open to have a listen.
What were they doing down there? Talk about prolonging the agony. She peered along the landing. All quiet on the Western front. Was that a good sign? Or had they killed each other already?
Kayla headed for the stairs, creeping down the first four steps—expertly avoiding the squeaky one, and deposited herself on the fifth.
****
‘It’s just the washer, I think,’ Daniel said, drying his hands as he came into the kitchen from the utility after checking the tap. ‘I could drop by tomorrow and have a go at it, if you like?’
Jo glanced at him, then quickly away. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I would do it myself but the plumbing in this house has always been a mystery to me. I’d fix the tap and end up drowning us all. Um, I mean, Kayla and …’
She trailed off awkwardly, turning away to reach for the kettle. ‘Tea or caffeine?’
Daniel’s mouth twitched into a smile. Old habits, he supposed. They’d needed many a fix when they’d been working late into the night together.
‘Caffeine would be good. Thanks.’ He seated himself at the table, and glanced around the kitchen at the ancient wood-burner he had balked on fixing, but which Jo had insisted on relieving of rust, at the natural pine cupboards they’d found under layers of gloss paint.
It was a good kitchen; a warm, homey sort of kitchen. Daniel suddenly felt acutely homesick, just like he had felt years ago—scared and lonely, and too scared to show it. Wondering where his mother had gone, why they’d moved out of the house … His mind drifted so far back, he flinched when Jo plonked the coffee in front of him.
Jo picked up her own drink—a cold drink, Daniel noticed, red in colour, which didn’t bode well—and then slipped into the chair across the table from Daniel. ‘Terrible was an understatement,’ she said. ‘You look dreadful.’
‘Cheers.’ Daniel laughed, taking a sip of his coffee.
‘So where are you staying?’ Jo started conversationally.
‘The New Inn, just off the motorway.’
Jo screwed up her face.
‘It’s clean.’ Daniel shrugged. ‘Not exactly home, but …’ He glanced at Jo, who glanced away. ‘It’s only for a while.’
‘Oh?’ Jo’s eyes slid back to his. ‘You’ve found somewhere else, then?’
‘Sort of.’ Daniel paused. How would it look to Jo? Like a hasty getaway? It wasn’t. He’d rather rent somewhere locally, preferably with a bird’s eye view of the house, so he could nobble any bastard that came sniffing around. Sometimes he wondered if Jo actually knew how attractive she was. But then, there was nowhere locally. Not another property in sight. And the house was sold, wasn’t it? Jo would be moving, and his being out of the way was probably for the best—for Jo.
The job wasn’t well paid but it would give him an income, and enable him to contribute to Kayla’s future. He could see her during the holidays, assuming she wanted to see him. Weekends too, if he took the ferry. She could visit.
Christ, he hoped he was doing the right thing. ‘I had a word with Tony,’ he said, ‘about working in his boat syndicate.’
Jo looked at him curiously. ‘Somehow, I can’t see you on a stand selling boats. They want you on the boatbuilding side, presumably?’
‘Not exactly. He needs someone to run the other end of the operation. Someone who knows how to run a boatyard and …’ Daniel hesitated ‘ … someone who can speak French.’
Jo gulped her drink so fast, Daniel thought she might choke. ‘You mean,’ she spluttered, ‘in France?’
‘France is where they generally speak French, Jo.’ Daniel gave her a half-hearted smile.
Jo placed her drink carefully on the table. ‘Well, well,’ she said, at length, ‘there was me, hoping somehow we could find a way back to each other. And there were you, with your feet on the starting blocks. Raring to go, weren’t you, Daniel?’
Daniel stared at her, astonished. ‘No! No way. I didn’t want any of this, Jo. You know I didn’t.’
‘Oh, come on.’ Jo scraped her chair back and stood abruptly. ‘I was there when Tony first discussed his plans with you for the syndicate, Daniel. Remember? You thought it was a fantastic idea. You’d have had a slice of it then, you said, if you hadn’t put all your eggs in one basket. This basket!’
Daniel shook his head. ‘I hadn’t even thought about it until today, Jo.’ He exhaled slowly, and massaged his temples. ‘I thought you wanted me to … It seemed like a good idea.’
‘Yes, brilliant idea!’ Jo turned away, reached for the dishcloth and wiped manically at the working surface. ‘You get as far away as possible and leave me here to sell the bloody business. The business that you couldn’t bear to sell when I wanted you to.’
‘It’s sold,’ Daniel said quietly.
Jo stopped wiping. Her shoulders stiffened. ‘Oh, I see,’ she said shortly.
‘Tony’s the buyer. He approached me about a month ago. I tried to talk to you about it …’
‘Well, I’m obviously going a bit deaf in my old age, Daniel,’ Jo said facetiously, ‘because I didn’t bloody well hear you.’
No—Daniel eyed the half-empty glass resignedly, because you were too busy numbing the pain. ‘You said it was what you wanted,’ he said quietly.
‘So you’d already set the ball rolling?’ Jo turned to eye him quizzically. ‘A month ago, you say?’
Daniel nodded, deflated. ‘About then, yes.’
‘Not before? Way before. As in, before you felt obliged to stick around after Emma—’
‘What?’ Daniel looked up, shocked. ‘No! You’ve got it all wrong. Jo, please—’
‘Don’t bother, Daniel.’ Jo eyed him coldly. ‘I’m not interested. Just give me the details.’ She picked up her glass.
Daniel sighed. ‘Don’t drink that stuff, Jo. It doesn’t do you any—’
‘And don’t you tell me what to do! You’ve no right.’
Daniel raked his hand through his hair and studied the ceiling. ‘Tony’s been looking to expand, over here and in France, for a while, apparently.’
‘Which, of course, you didn’t know about.’
‘No.’ Daniel shrugged, feeling as incompetent as Jo’s look implied. ‘He was a ready buyer, Jo …’ He willed her to listen, to understand. ‘In regard to the job offer, obviously he needs someone who knows the ropes, but we didn’t discuss that until after—’
‘So in exchange for a cushy little job where you can get away from it all,’ Jo shouted, cutting him short, ‘a rival company gets the boatyard at a knock-down price. Way to go, Dan.’
‘No, not a knock-down price.’ Daniel tried not to raise his voice. ‘He paid a fair—’
‘Paid?’ Jo blinked, disbelieving. ‘He’s put his money on the table, already?’
‘We use the same accountant, it sped things up,’ Daniel tried to explain. ‘He knows the business is viable. We figured
the property plus stock and three times profit to be worth nine hundred thousand. Tony paid nine-fifty.’
‘How very generous of him. Another fifty more than compensates, doesn’t it, Daniel, for you selling the business out from under me. How? Without my agreement?’
‘The original capital was mine, Jo,’ Daniel pointed out, his heart plummeting. It was true. He had paid the deposit with his money. And he had organised the mortgage, but he had never intended it to stay solely in his name. They’d just never got around to … He didn’t want any of the proceeds. Anything left after the business debts were paid off was Jo’s. Jo’s and Kayla’s. She must know that. ‘I thought it was what you wanted, Jo.’
‘What I wanted?’ Jo laughed, disbelieving. ‘Seems to me you wanted it a whole lot more.’
‘Jo, that’s not fair.’
‘Fair!?’ She stared at him. ‘What’s bloody fair, Daniel? About any of this?’
‘None of it!’ Daniel shouted, his frustration spilling over. He stood to face her, crashing his coffee cup to the table. What in Christ’s name did she want? He fixed angry eyes on hers, and then closed his eyes tight. He wasn’t going this route.
‘None of it’s fair, Jo.’ Daniel looked back at her, his temper in check, his throat tight, and his heart finally reaching rock bottom.
Jo held his gaze.
Daniel looked away.
And Jo wanted to shake him. Fight, damn you, she wanted to scream. Fight, Daniel! For me. For us. But what was the point? He hadn’t, and nor would he, because it simply wasn’t what he wanted. How could he do it? Just walk away? Start a new life. Discard her and Kayla as so much unwanted baggage. ‘You’ve obviously been planning to go for some time.’
‘Not true, Jo. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I’d hoped … we might be able to sort things out. Somehow.’
Jo shrugged. ‘Whatever. But if you weren’t going to tell me until the contracts were signed, when, exactly, were you planning to let Kayla in on your plans? Kayla’s your other daughter by the way, in case you forgot.’
Daniel looked at her, his expression a mixture of hurt and despair. He shook his head. ‘I think I’d better go,’ he said, turning for the door. ‘I’ll come back when we can talk, rather than …’
Daniel trailed off, his expression changing swiftly from weary to wary.
Jo followed his gaze. ‘Oh, no.’ She closed her eyes.
‘So which daughter are you arguing about this time?’ Kayla asked, from where she was slouched against the doorframe, arms folded, lower lip belying the couldn’t-care-less body language.
Jo looked helplessly to Daniel.
‘Course, I could’ve been mistaken,’ Kayla eyed her parents accusingly, ‘but I’m sure I heard my name mentioned?’
Jo stepped toward her. ‘Kayla, I—’
‘Nah.’ Kayla shrugged her off. ‘Silly me. Must have misheard. I mean,’ she glared at Daniel and Jo in turn, ‘with Emma’s ghost ever-fucking-present, it couldn’t possibly be me you’d be arguing about, could it? You wouldn’t notice if I dropped dead!’
‘Kayla …’ Daniel moved quickly around Jo, who stood white-faced, rooted to the spot.
‘Fuck off!’ Kayla backed off, a single tear sliding down her cheek.
‘Kayla, cut it out!’ Daniel reached for her.
Kayla sidestepped. ‘Well, you’re going to, aren’t you?’ She challenged him. ‘Aren’t you?’
Daniel met her eyes.
He could see frightened child’s eyes behind her woman’s mask. He’d sidelined her in all of this. Both of them had focussed only on their own problems. That was unforgivable.
‘Kayla, I’m sorry.’ He moderated his tone. ‘We’re both sorry. Okay?’
Kayla gave him a mutinous glance.
‘I shouldn’t have shouted.’ Daniel took a hesitant step toward her, tentatively placing an arm around her shoulder. ‘It’s just, sometimes adults … That is, parents—’
Kayla recoiled in an instant. ‘Oh, spare me the not being able to live together crap.’ She glowered at him, her eyes blazing. ‘Are you going to tell me next you both still love me?’
Jo tried again to reach out to her. ‘Of course we do. Kayla, don’t do this, hon—’
‘Don’t!’ Kayla backed off. ‘I don’t want you touching me.’
Jo winced, reeling visibly on her feet.
‘I heard you.’ Kayla turned to her father. ‘All of it. And I don’t give a stuff. Go to Australia, for all I care. I’m sick of you two arguing. Can’t you see what you’re doing to each other? And you,’ she turned angrily on Jo, ‘do you think drinking that crap helps?’
Jo slipped silently into a chair, her face ashen.
‘How do you think it makes me feel to hear you crying yourself to sleep?’ Kayla flicked the glass from the table. It hit the floor with a splintering crash, chipping the ceramic tiles and shooting a thousand slivers of silver across the kitchen.
Kayla folded her arms insolently, as if daring Jo and Daniel to say anything. They didn’t. Jo sat with her head in her hands. Daniel rammed his hands in his pockets and studied his shoes. Only the dripping utility tap punctuated the sudden silence.
‘Kayla, sit down,’ Daniel finally said. ‘We’ll talk, okay. Just … let’s not do it this way.’
‘Forget it.’ Kayla turned away, retrieving her discarded backpack from the hall and heading for the front door.
‘Kayla!’ Jo was on her feet. ‘She’s not leaving, Dan. Not like this. Kayla, where are you going?’
‘Out,’ Kayla retorted over her shoulder. ‘Where does it look like?’
Jo caught up with her in the hall. ‘Oh, no you’re not, young lady. You come back in here and –’
Kayla whirled around. ‘Oh, yes, I am.’ She eyeballed her mother. ‘And you can’t stop me. Either of you.’ She glared at Daniel, who was close behind Jo. ‘You’re like a couple of kids. Why can’t you grow up, and talk to each other.’
Daniel and Jo exchanged guilty glances.
Kayla wiped a hand angrily under her nose. ‘You’re … fubar, do you know that? Both of you! Send me a postcard, Dad.’ She threw him a last defiant glare, and then disappeared through the door, slamming it hard shut behind her.
‘Shit!’ Daniel bolted after her.
‘Kayla!’ He skidded to a halt ten yards from the house. She was nowhere in sight. How the hell had she moved that fast?
‘Kayla!?’ he called again, bolting across the yard. One hand atop it, he cleared the five-bar gate in one leap, scoured the lane left and right and then ran to the first road leading off it. Nothing.
Dammit. Daniel raked his hand frustratedly through his hair, then cursing himself, turned to walk back to the boatyard, sweat plastering his shirt to his back and tickling his forehead. Wiping a hand across his eyelashes, he dropped down next to Jo, who was sitting on the doorstep, looking exactly how he felt.
Jo spoke first. ‘It wasn’t wine,’ she said, pulling in a slow breath. ‘The crap I was drinking. It was cranberry and apple.’
Daniel clasped his hands in front of him and closed his eyes, despairing at his ineptitude. She had taken a step forward. And him, he had taken a step back. What an idiot.
‘Tasted like crap though.’
Daniel smiled.
Jo took another breath. ‘I can’t promise I wouldn’t have reached for the wine if I hadn’t tipped it all away,’ she admitted, ‘but I’m trying, at least.’
Daniel nodded. ‘Not easy, is it? Unlearning bad habits? I, er …’
Give me a chance to try too, Jo, he wanted to say, but didn’t. Clearly, space was what Jo needed, to find her way through. He’d give her that, but he wouldn’t take the job. He’d wait. Try to unlearn his own bad habits. And pray that they could both find their way, eventually, by each other’s side.
‘I’ll stay until she gets back,’ he offered. ‘That is, if you want me to?’
Jo hesitated, and then shook her head. ‘No, no need.’ She sighed and massa
ged the back of her neck. ‘She’s staying the night at Hannah’s, anyway.’
Daniel glanced at her. He would have done that once, taken over and massaged her neck, her shoulders. He glanced away. ‘Do you think it’s wise, her staying out under the circumstances? Do we know she’ll actually be where she says she is?’
‘She’ll be there,’ Jo assured him. ‘They’re inseparable, those two, lately. As for wise …’ she smiled sadly ‘ … I’d say she’s wiser than we’ve given her credit for, wouldn’t you?’
Daniel laughed half-heartedly. ‘And some.’
‘It will probably do her good to have someone her own age to talk to,’ Jo went on. ‘Let off a bit of steam. And she seems to get on with Hannah’s mother well enough.’
Jo fiddled absent-mindedly with her wedding ring.
Daniel trailed a thumb over his own.
‘As long as she’s arrived safely,’ Daniel said, after a heavy pause.
‘I’ll give Hannah a call. Make sure.’
Daniel nodded slowly. ‘I’d better go,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘I’ll get some stuff, if that’s okay?’
‘Daniel, don’t.’
Daniel looked at her, confused.
Jo looked up at him, hurt piled upon hurt obvious in her eyes. ‘Of course it’s okay,’ she said wearily.
Chapter Five
Daniel tried not to focus on anything as he walked into the bedroom, especially the bed where Jo and he had lain, limbs knotted.
Fitting together. Perfectly.
And then poles apart.
Where Jo had turned her back on him, apparently hating the very nearness of him. Daniel swallowed hard and tried hard not to notice the lingerie draped over the wicker chair. The scent of Jo. The very essence of Jo, which seemed to permeate every surface and pore.
Go. Daniel pulled himself up sharp. Get your stuff and get out. While you still have the strength not to beg. He yanked open the wardrobe door, grabbed an overnight bag and a few clothes and stuffed them blindly inside. The rest he would worry about later. This was too painful. Much too damn painful.
The Edge of Sanity Page 6