by Susan Lewis
June pulled a face as she thought. ‘The name does ring a bell,’ she admitted, ‘but art critic sounds decidedly gay to me, and having already been there with my ex…’
‘Apparently his marriage broke up about a year ago,’ Sabrina told her, ‘and there was no mention of anyone else being on the scene, male or female. He’s very presentable, from what I’ve seen of him on TV, but you know how diminished people can seem in the flesh, so perhaps we should make up our minds about that when we meet him.’
‘Can you set it up?’ June asked excitedly.
‘I’ll certainly try, but it’ll have to wait till we’re back, I’m afraid. There won’t be time before.’
‘That’s OK. It’ll give me something to look forward to.’
As she listened to their middle-aged drivel Annabelle was tapping her foot impatiently, wanting to be gone from here, in spite of having nowhere to go. Maybe she could talk her mother into paying for another massage. Actually, she wouldn’t mind having her nails done, and her hair blow-dried. There was a party at Melody’s tonight, everyone was going, and she still hadn’t worn the D&G dress she’d bought in Bath a couple of weeks ago. She wondered if it would be OK for her to go, but even if it was, no way was she going to call anyone to find out, especially when no one was bothering to call her. Except Bethany, who was more boring than blah, and Georgie, who she had to admit had rung yesterday to ask how she was. Georgie hadn’t mentioned anything about the party though, but that was OK, because Annabelle didn’t really want to go anyway.
‘When’s Robert leaving for Paris?’ she suddenly blurted.
Sabrina turned to look at her. ‘Tomorrow,’ she answered. ‘Why?’
‘I thought I might go with him.’
Sabrina gave an exasperated sigh. ‘He’ll be in meetings the whole time…’
‘I can go shopping and look at the sights.’
‘Not on your own, you can’t.’
‘So why don’t you come too?’
‘Because I’ve got far too much to do here before we go away. Now, will you please stop tapping your foot. It’s very annoying.’
Annabelle turned to June. ‘Everything about me is annoying to my mother.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ June protested.
‘Of course it isn’t,’ Sabrina said, sounding crosser than she intended. ‘Why don’t you go for a swim, or see if they can fit you in for a manicure, while June and I plan what’s going in the next issue.’
‘Actually,’ June said, before Annabelle got up, ‘I was going to mention this before, but I wondered if Annabelle might be interested in writing something for The Buzz. It might help our circulation a bit to have some young input.’
Sabrina looked decidedly impressed. ‘That’s a great idea,’ she responded enthusiastically. ‘What do you think, Annabelle? Would you like to do it?’
‘I don’t know,’ Annabelle answered, slightly thrown. ‘What sort of stuff would I have to write?’
Sabrina looked at June.
‘You could do something on what people your age are up to,’ June supplied. ‘You know, the kind of events you go to, like festivals and concerts, and where’s good to shop. Anything you think’s suitable really.’
Annabelle turned to her mother.
Sabrina smiled encouragingly.
‘Tell you what,’ Annabelle said, ‘I’ll think about it,’ and picking up her lemonade she wandered back inside.
With a sigh, Sabrina said, ‘Thank you for that, June. I’ve been trying so hard to think of ways to include her since Robert gave me a dressing-down for neglecting her. He’s wrong, of course, because I’m always there for her, and the reason she’s being rude and stroppy at the moment is because she’s going through a very tricky time with all this unpleasant business.’
Not even starting to get into the understatements and denial going on there, June said, ‘Does she know Nathan was in court today?’
Sabrina nodded. ‘I tried to have a chat with her about it this morning, but all she said was, “Everyone’ll know the truth soon enough, and then you’ll all be sorry for not believing me.”’
‘But I thought you did believe her.’
‘Of course I do, but for some reason she’s telling herself I don’t.’
It was late on Sunday morning. After the boom and crash of a thunderstorm during the night, everything was peaceful now. The clouds, having emptied themselves lavishly over the countryside, had contracted into small white ruffles floating through a swathe of perfect blue sky, while the ground steamed as it dried, filling the air with a fresh, earthy scent.
Nat was alone in the house, lying on his bed trying to read and listen to music. He’d been out a few times since he’d returned on Wednesday, mostly with Simon, when they were always careful to leave the village by the bottom road, and to keep well back as they waited for a bus to take them into Bruton, or Bath. Last night his mother had driven him and Darcie over to a pub in Somerton for a change of scene, and to meet up with Rachel and her family. They weren’t sure if the Traveller’s was the requisite hundred yards from Annabelle’s house, but even if it was, the way some people in the village were staring and whispering whenever they saw them, or blatantly blanking them, made it too uncomfortable for them to go out anywhere nearby.
Picking up his mobile as it bleeped with an incoming text, he clicked it open and seeing it was from Summer, his expression darkened with anguish and guilt. What have I done? Why won’t you speak to me? Sx
He was still looking at it, trying to think how to answer, when someone knocked on the front door. Dropping the phone, he swung his feet to the floor and went out on to the landing. He didn’t want to answer in case it was someone come to shame him, and tell him to eff off back to London, the way a gang of young kids on the new estate had the other day, when he and Simon were waiting for the bus. ‘Dirty rapist,’ one girl had screamed. ‘Sex maniac,’ another had yelled. ‘Go back where you belong.’
Whoever it was knocked again.
Half afraid of something unpleasant or dangerous coming through the letter box, he went partway down the stairs and shouted, ‘Who is it?’
‘Nat? It’s Uncle Robert,’ came the reply.
Allowing relief to overcome his misgivings for the moment, he ran down to the hall and pulled open the door. ‘Sorry I took so long,’ he said, standing back for Robert to come in. It was better than being abused by the locals, he thought, but maybe his uncle was here to lay into him over Annabelle. Did he believe what she was telling him? Was he going to read the riot act and say how ashamed and disgusted he was by what his nephew had done? If he did Nat was ready to defend himself – he might even dare to ask his uncle how he could have stayed with that bitch Sabrina after what she’d done.
‘No worries,’ Robert told him mildly. ‘Are you on your own?’
Nat swallowed. ‘Yes. Mum and Darcie have gone to a flea market in Frome. Not really my thing. I thought Mum said you were in Paris.’
‘I got back last night,’ Robert answered, following him into the kitchen. ‘We’re off again tomorrow so I thought I’d come and see how you are before I left. I don’t suppose there’s a cold drink going?’
‘Oh, yeah, sure. What would you like? We have squash, I think, lemonade and there’s probably some fruit juice.’
‘If it’s blackcurrant I’ll have squash,’ Robert replied.
As Nat dug some ice cubes from a tray and topped the squash with water from the tap, Robert pulled out a chair and sat down.
He didn’t seem angry, Nat was thinking, but since that wasn’t really his uncle’s style there was still no knowing how this might go.
‘So, how are you?’ Robert asked, as Nat brought two drinks to the table.
Nat shrugged. ‘I’m cool,’ he answered, not really knowing what else to say.
Robert regarded him closely, then took a sip of his drink. ‘We’re off to France for ten days tomorrow,’ he said, ‘so hopefully that’ll make things a bit easier fo
r you around here.’
Nat’s cheeks flamed with colour.
With a sigh, Robert put a comforting hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry all this is happening,’ he said, ‘for both of you…’
‘If you don’t mind,’ Nat interrupted, ‘I’d rather not discuss it.’
‘I can understand that, but I’m here in the hope that we can do something to resolve this unfortunate business before either of you has to face the ordeal of going to trial. It won’t be a pleasant experience…’
‘I’m not the one who’s making it happen,’ Nat broke in angrily. ‘It’s her you should be speaking to.’
‘And believe me, I’m going to try. Perhaps, while we’re away and in a different environment, she might be more willing to talk. Meanwhile, I can’t help wondering if perhaps you might have misunderstood what she…’
‘I didn’t misunderstand anything,’ Nat cried bitterly. ‘I couldn’t make her leave me alone. She kept coming after me, and then she was there with no underwear on, behaving like the slut she is. Everyone knows what she’s like, because they’ve all been there, and she couldn’t stand it because I didn’t want …’ He broke off as frustration and embarrassment swallowed his words.
Robert looked away, hating hearing his stepdaughter being spoken about that way, in spite of having suspected for a while that her virtue was a thing of the past. It was like being punched in the face with his own shortcomings, shown exactly how ineffective he had become as her parent and moral guide. However, he had to remember who he was hearing this from, so hopefully the picture wasn’t quite as profligate as Nat was painting it. ‘You two used to be very fond of one another once,’ he said.
‘That was a long time ago. She’s a different person now. We both are.’
‘But underneath, I think in many ways you’re still the same.’
Nat shook his head.
Robert sighed, and tried a different tack. ‘I’m ready to admit that Annabelle has her problems,’ he said awkwardly. ‘The past couple of years haven’t been easy …’ He stopped as Nat rose to his feet. Then, realising his mistake, he said, ‘I know they’ve been difficult for you too, but you’re older and…’
‘I’m not bringing this suit,’ Nat reminded him sharply. ‘She is, so like I said just now, it’s her you should be talking to.’
The spectre of Craig and Sabrina’s affair was looming large now, but unless Nat mentioned it, Robert wasn’t going to complicate matters even further by doing so himself.
Giving himself something to do, Nat walked over to the door and pushed it open. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask his uncle why he’d stayed with Sabrina, how he could even bring himself to look at her after what she’d done, but knowing his father was as much to blame, he didn’t want to risk hearing his uncle saying so, any more than he wanted to hear how hurt Robert might have been too. He was a kind and decent man, and Nat just knew he would never behave in an underhand or disloyal fashion with anyone. To think of his father making a fool of Robert was almost as bad as thinking of what it had done to his mother. It made his father the very kind of person Craig himself had always claimed to despise.
Feeling a choking misery burning in his chest, he was about to walk outside when Robert said, ‘How’s your girlfriend? Summer, isn’t it?’
Nat’s eyes closed as he took a breath. As difficult a topic as Summer might be, he could handle it a whole lot better than a discussion about his dad. ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ he said, turning round. ‘She’s OK. She’s with her family in Italy.’ He thought of how he’d been invited to join them and wished with all his heart now that he had.
‘Does she know what’s going on here?’ Robert asked carefully.
Nat shook his head. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ he admitted. ‘Every time she rings … She thinks she’s done something wrong. I keep telling her it’s not her, but she won’t believe me. She thinks I’ve met someone else, and if I have I should just be honest and tell her. It’s getting so I don’t take her calls any more or answer her texts, and that’s not right. You shouldn’t treat someone like that, but I don’t know what else to do.’
Feeling for his dilemma, Robert said, ‘You have to tell her the truth, Nat. I know it’ll be hard …’
‘She’ll end it if I do, I know she will, and who can blame her? She hated Annabelle. I’m sorry, but Annabelle was so rude to her, and the way Annabelle kept coming on to me when Summer was there…If you’d seen it, you’d know what I mean.’
Taking a breath and blowing it out slowly, Robert said, ‘I’m afraid you still have to tell her the truth. How she deals with it will be up to her, but if you continue avoiding her, calls it’ll only make it worse.’
Nat’s eyes went down. He knew his uncle was right, but the problem was finding the right words that would enable him, in spite of everything, to hold on to the threads of a relationship that were already starting to fray.
Glancing at his watch, Robert said, ‘I should be going.’
Nat walked with him to the front door, wishing he didn’t have to leave, but not saying so. He liked his uncle being around, in spite of his connection to Annabelle, and though there were subjects he really didn’t want to discuss, he’d have liked to talk some more. ‘I’ll tell Mum you dropped in,’ he said.
‘I’ll give her a call later,’ Robert replied. ‘And you have my number, so if you want to chat, any time…’
‘Thank you. I hope you have a good holiday.’
Robert’s smile was wry as he hugged his nephew, then turned to start down the path. He wasn’t sure if he’d done any good in coming here, but it had felt important for him to try and keep a channel open between his stepdaughter and nephew, and he was reasonably confident he’d succeeded, even though he himself had ended up feeling more torn than ever. In his heart he knew that if it went to the wire he’d support Annabelle, but he was praying to God it wouldn’t come to that, because the mere thought of turning his back on Nat was almost as bad as how he’d feel if he turned it on her.
After closing the door Nat went back upstairs to his room, his head crowding with thoughts of Annabelle and the times they used to spend together before their parents had stopped visiting one another. They’d been really close then, and he supposed he’d meant it when he’d said he wanted to marry her when they were older, because as young as they both were, he wasn’t going to deny that she’d been his first love. Or his first crush, anyway. In spite of her age she’d have had sex with him then, any time he wanted, or so she’d said, and that was just what had happened that Saturday night. She’d wanted to have sex, and he’d tried to get away, but she wouldn’t let him go, and then everything had got out of hand, and now she was accusing him of rape and that wasn’t what had happened at all.
Slamming the bedroom door behind him, he threw himself down on the bed and tried to push her out of his mind, but images of how she’d looked that night, laughing and teasing, shouting, sobbing and then laughing again with tears and blood on her cheeks, kept flashing before him like a grisly film. She knew what had happened, they both did, and it wasn’t rape, so why was she doing this?
Putting on some music in an effort to blot out everything else, he lay down on his bed and picked up his mobile phone. Though he scrolled to her number he wouldn’t risk trying it, because if she reported him he’d be arrested and taken into custody until the trial. The mere idea of that dredged an icy wave of dread all the way through him, and as though to escape it he jerked himself up from the bed to kill the music. Then, scrolling on through his numbers, he stopped at Summer’s, and without giving himself any time to think he pressed to connect. Though he still had no clear idea of how he was going to tell her what had happened, he knew he had to take his uncle’s advice and stop stalling, and the sooner he got it over with the better.
‘Nat, hi,’ she said happily when she heard his voice. ‘At last. Where have you been? Why haven’t you…’
‘Summer, listen, there’s something I have to tell
you.’
‘Oh my God. You have met someone else,’ she cried.
‘No. No, not at all, well, not the way you’re thinking.’ He took a breath. ‘It’s just that well, Annabelle…’
‘No! Don’t tell me it’s her, I won’t be able to stand it.’
Desperate to get it out now, he said, ‘She’s accused me of raping her, and the police arrested me, but it’s not true, Summer. I didn’t force her, she was coming on to me the way she does. You’ve seen how she is, and well, it wasn’t rape. I swear it.’
For an excruciatingly long moment there was nothing more than a stunned silence at the other end, then she said, ‘So what you’re saying is that you had sex with your cousin Annabelle?’
‘Yes, but not the way you’re thinking. I mean, it wasn’t rape, but it didn’t mean anything either.’
‘Do you know what,’ she said, ‘it’s not the rape that bothers me – I mean, it does, of course, but at least it wouldn’t have been an act of love. The fact that you’re saying it wasn’t rape, though, means you had sex with her because you wanted to.’
‘No! It was spur of the moment…I just said, it didn’t mean anything…’
‘But you had sex with her! Do you realise what that tells me? It tells me you got excited by her, and if someone like that turns you on, Nathan, then all I can say is good luck to you, because if you’re that shallow, then tramps like her are all you deserve.’
As the line went dead Nat threw down his phone and dropped his head in his hands. It was as though his entire world was falling apart, and he didn’t know how to make it stop. He thought about his mother and how badly he was letting her down, when all he wanted was to be a strength and support to her. Instead, he’d brought her this, and as each day, each hour, passed he was becoming more terrified than ever of how far it might go, and what needed to be done to stop it.
Chapter Twenty
As August drifted on the world seemed to adopt a surreal sort of quality for Alicia, with the sun continuing to blaze as though time had become snagged on the hottest day of the year, while life moved forward in its usual impervious way. Since Robert had taken his family to France it had been possible to venture up to the high street, but unless they were going to the shop, they rarely did. It was better to continue keeping a low profile, they’d decided, that way Nat wouldn’t have to encounter people’s spitefulness and prejudice, nor would Alicia and Darcie have to suffer the intolerable experience of watching him endure it. Though some of her neighbour’s behaviour was shocking and offensive in the extreme, Alicia refused to challenge them, because it would do nothing to help Nat if she got into some kind of showdown, nor was it likely to change their minds. She simply had to be thankful that they wouldn’t be on the jury when the time came, a thought that in itself caused her heart to churn with dread.