They stepped nervously into the room. They. Fay and Alex – my stalker and my ex. A perfect combination – a veritable match made in heaven.
‘So,’ I mumbled, feeling rather peculiar again, ‘what can I do for you? Other than thank you, Alex, obviously.’
‘We were worried about you. Thank goodness you’re all right,’ Fay murmured, blinking a lot.
‘Have you come to break the news?’ I tried to pull myself up on the pillows. God, my arm hurt.
‘News?’ Alex shook his head in confusion as Fay looked up at him, bewilderment in those great violet eyes. ‘What news?’
I decided I should get up now; I felt like a trussed-up chicken ready for the oven lying there while they both gaped at me. Slowly I swung my legs out and stood – pain shot up my ankle like a surge of electricity so that I stumbled onto a chair, Fay and Alex both rushing forwards to support me. I gazed up at them.
‘You make a lovely couple, actually,’ I mumbled, and promptly collapsed again.
Chapter Forty-Six
However hard you try, sometimes you can’t escape yourself. I sat in the room on the hill by the sea and I tried to hide from the horrors that haunted me; I tried to remember the person I’d been before all this began. But I lived in the midst of flashbacks and a perpetual ache in my injured ankle, waking from night-sweats terrified that Seb had come for me again, my ears constantly straining for the faithful patter of Digby’s feet.
The sea rolled in and the sea rolled out again. I gazed at the water that changed colour every day, its unbroken surface belying the treacherous rocks beneath it. When I couldn’t sleep I watched the fishing boats bobbing out before dawn past the harbour wall on a good day; the craggy hillside opposite like some pagan god had whacked out his fury there. I watched the locals off for a pint at the pink-painted pub on Fore Street, the few holiday-makers in cagoules and wellies tramping down to get their fresh fish, or struggling with flapping ordnance survey maps that were welded to their bodies in the wind.
When my father had to get back to work in London, Jenny took some time off and stayed with me – and for that I was truly grateful. I didn’t want to see anyone else now; I wanted to hide. But when Bel rang from Australia, I was happy to hear her voice.
‘I knew he was no good, the bloody bastard. The handsome ones never are. I did say that, Mag, I’m sure I did.’
‘Did you?’ I asked wearily. ‘I must have missed that bit.’ I caught sight of my colourless face, the cut on my forehead stitched and covered still with a large plaster. ‘I could use some of your magic, Bel, I must say. I look like the living dead.’
‘You need some sun, my girl. Look, Maggie, I know it’s awful, what you’ve been through, but you’ve got to forget Sebastian now. Come out here – we’ll look after you.’
‘I’d love to, Bel, if it wasn’t so bloody far away.’
‘Sydney’s amazing,’ she ignored me, ‘we’ve got a huge apartment right on the bay, and there’s loads of work for bods like you. The TV’s atrocious here. They’re crying out for your experience.’
Beneath the window a young couple tugged a sturdy black Labrador behind them, their little girl in a pink sou’wester fighting to keep her hat on in the December wind.
‘How’s Hannah?’ I changed the subject, doodling on the pad by the phone. ‘I really miss her, you know.’ I drew a bucket and spade.
‘She misses you too, darling, but I have to say, she’s loving it. There’s just so much outdoor life here, Mag. The food’s amazing; I’m getting really fat. Actually,’ she went all coy, ‘that’s not the only reason.’
‘You – fat! Pull the other –’ I stopped drawing. ‘Oh my God! Bel – you’re not! Already?’
‘I am! I mean, it’s early days, but please, think about coming.’
‘You need a babysitter, you mean. Oh that’s great news, Bel, congratulations! How fantastic.’ I was delighted for her, really – but I couldn’t deny the tiny acorn of envy deep in my gut, envy for the stability I’d craved for so long. I shoved it down.
‘I can get you loads of meetings if you do come.’ Bel was oblivious, thank God. ‘You know, with all the right people.’
‘I’m not sure I want to make TV any more, you know, Bel.’ I drew a small box. ‘I’m thinking about retraining.’
In what, though? A diploma in choosing the wrong men?
‘Mag, just because things went wrong at Double-decker, it doesn’t mean all television’s bad. It doesn’t mean everything you’ve done is worthless. You know that, right?’
‘Right now, I don’t know much, Bel.’ I flopped back on the bed. ‘I don’t trust my own instincts any more.’
‘You’ve had a bad year, that’s all. That’s why you need to get away. At least say you’ll think about it, hey?’
‘God, you’re even starting to sound like an Aussie.’ I managed a laugh as I gazed up at the ceiling, picturing the sun and golden beaches, barbeques and opera houses. For a moment my heart lifted. ‘Okay, I’ll think about it, I promise.’
‘That’s my girl,’ said Bel cheerfully. ‘Right, well, gotta go, darling. It’s well past my bedtime now. You get on that Internet and check out some flights, okay? You’ve got to grab the bull by the horns now, Mag.’
But I’d done that already, hadn’t I? And the bull turned out to be quite mad and savage. I didn’t think I was going anywhere for a while. Not till Seb’s trial came up.
The day after I’d moved to the Port Isaac Hotel, a rather muted Fay came to see me.
‘Do you want me to stay?’ my father asked discreetly. Frankly, I was just relieved that she’d come alone. I shook my head and he disappeared into the afternoon drizzle for a walk with Jenny.
Fay and I sat in uncomfortable silence as the matronly owner set out tea and mince pies in my small suite, recently festooned with flowers from Charlie ‘and the gang’. Over the steaming teapot I watched the moss-green Hope of Port Isaac chug back into harbour as I waited for Fay to explain her presence.
‘I feel so guilty,’ she said eventually, and I poured the tea so I could keep busy while she spoke, shoving away images of her and Alex together. She didn’t look quite as glossy as usual; she looked young and rather swamped in a long gypsy-style dress, her hair a mass of short curls now it had started to grow out, back to its natural dark colour.
‘These things happen, Fay. It takes two.’
I winced as a spot of boiling liquid splashed my hand.
‘Maggie –’ She looked away. I waited patiently. I had all the time in the world these days.
‘I led him to you, I think.’ Her voice was small, her hands clasped tight in her lap.
‘Alex?’ I stared at her until the teapot’s handle began to burn my palm. ‘I don’t understand.’ I relinquished it onto the table.
‘Not Alex,’ she muttered. ‘Troy.’
‘Troy? I still don’t –’ And then we gazed at each other. I felt my eyes go wide. ‘Troy? You don’t mean Troy is – is Seb? They’re the same – the same person?’
‘Yes.’ Her voice was little more than a whisper.
‘Seb is your – your ex-boyfriend Troy? God.’ I felt like I’d just been punched in the head. ‘Does – have you told the police?’
‘Yes, of course.’ She stood up and walked to the window, her hem swishing on the carpet. ‘I’m so sorry, Maggie. I mean, I knew he was unstable. I just had no idea to what extent.’
‘When did you realise?’ I was trying frantically to piece things together. My head felt like a child had set his spinning top off inside it. ‘Why didn’t you warn me if you knew it was him?’
‘I didn’t know until the afternoon he came to – to get you, I swear,’ Fay pouted prettily. ‘He’d fairly much disappeared when we split up. I only rang him to get a forwarding address for his post. And then on the phone that day he started ranting about how much you’d hurt him.’ She sat down again, perching like a bird on the edge of the sofa. ‘I was truly shocked, Maggie, to be honest. That
you’d been together, I mean.’
I looked down at my stripy pyjama knees, at my bandaged foot. I refused to feel guilt now for Fay as well.
‘I mean,’ she went on, ‘the previous time Troy had mentioned you, when we split up, he said he hated you. He blamed you, you see, after he saw us together on the show. It took me a while to get my head around it to be honest. You and him, I mean.’
Those great violet headlamps searched my face. ‘But you have to believe me, Maggie. I didn’t know he was after you. Of course if I’d known what he intended I would have tried even harder to let you know. I thought at the worst he might smash a few things up, or, I don’t know, lock you in a cupboard. You know – to punish you.’
‘To punish me,’ I echoed numbly. Seb’s words from the other night rattled like a spectre in the room.
‘That was the expression he always used. If you hurt him, he’d have to “punish” you. He felt things very deeply.’
‘Obviously,’ I said dryly.
‘But I can’t believe’, she could hardly look at me now, ‘that he actually tried to kill you. He’d never been violent before. Not to me, anyway.’
‘No, well,’ I said flatly, ‘I obviously have that effect on men.’ I had the sense of a great pressure bearing down on me; of everything I’d known shifting shape again. I wanted to stand and scream; to burst out through the roof into oblivion. I picked at the bandage on my hand instead.
‘So I asked DI Fox to let me tell you myself,’ she quickly pointed out. ‘I thought I should. That’s why I’m here.’
‘Thank you,’ I said stiffly, still trying to grasp this new reality. The text message I’d received from Fay that night at Pendarlin finally made sense. ‘So – you were trying to warn me about Seb then? I thought you meant Alex when I got your text.’
‘I’d been ringing your phone all afternoon, since I’d spoken to Troy, but I just kept getting your voicemail. I assumed you’d have got the messages, but in the end I rang Alex because I was worried by how mad Troy sounded. Alex was in Bristol, so he drove down. I don’t think he really believed me, but he rang the local police.’
I remembered the slowly cruising police car; my voice snatched up by the wind as I shouted desperately at its tail-lights, trapped by that bloody wire.
‘I didn’t get your messages in time,’ I said slowly, my mind somersaulting wildly as I started to compute it all. I felt sick. ‘Fay, sorry. Would you mind just giving me a minute?’ I staggered to my feet, my leg stiff from sitting for so long.
‘No, of course not.’ She stood quickly as if to help me – but I was all right on my own. ‘I need to ring my agent anyway.’
I pulled open the balcony door as Fay left the room, and stepped out into the cold.
Below me the grey-green sea swelled gently like a giant sigh. The afternoon was colourless, the sky a huge merging of cloud and colour into grey. Into nothingness.
Tiny pins of moisture pricked my face as I leaned against the damp rail watching a single gull wheel and surf the sky. For a moment the smooth-breasted white figure battled against the wind, and then he gracefully pivoted above me to let the slipstream take him where it chose. And I knew that I must succumb to the fate that had brought me here, that there was no point fighting it; that to recover from Seb’s campaign of terror I needed to somehow accept it – accept it and get on.
When Fay came back I attempted a smile as I sloshed out the last of the Earl Grey with an almost steady hand. The tea was stewed.
‘My agent’s got me an audition for I’m a Celebrity, can you believe it?’ She looked shell-shocked.
‘I can, actually,’ I said politely, passing her a cup, strangely reminded of Gwendolen and Cecily’s tea party in The Importance of Being Earnest. This was the version on acid.
‘I’m not sure about the jungle.’ She was genuinely worried. ‘All those horrid beasties. Snakes and things. Ugh!’
I ignored her. ‘But I don’t understand why Seb bothered to actually go out with me.’ I thought uncomfortably of everyone who’d said Fay and I looked alike. ‘To get at you, I guess?’
‘I don’t think it was that simple.’ Fay wrenched herself back from the jungle. ‘He blamed you for splitting us up, so it probably started out of revenge. After what you said on the show, you know.’ She added a dainty spoon of sugar to her tea.
‘What did I say?’ I racked my brain.
‘That being overprotective wasn’t necessarily right, that wanting to know where I was at every moment might just mean he liked control, not love. In a way, you know,’ Fay gave me that intense look I remembered from that first show, ‘he was right, you did split us up.’
‘Oh, great,’ I muttered. ‘So you blame me too?’ A moment on the lips, a lifetime running away from madmen you’d inadvertently offended.
‘No, no.’ She was quick to refute it. ‘I mean, I never would have left him if you hadn’t pointed out a few home truths. I wasn’t strong enough. But it was absolutely the best thing I ever did, splitting up with Troy.’ She reached out and grasped my hand in her little one. ‘I’m really grateful to you, Maggie, honestly.’
‘Oh,’ I said. I didn’t dare remove my hand. ‘You know, Fay, the funny thing is, for a while there I thought it was you out to get me.’
She looked aghast. ‘God, no.’ Her fingers slid off mine. ‘I just wanted to be your friend. It took me a while’, she looked down, ‘to realise you didn’t want to be mine.’
I felt a pang. ‘It wasn’t that simple, Fay. I – I’ve been in quite a bad place for a lot of this year. Dealing with a lot of trauma that I – I maybe haven’t handled very well.’
‘Shock’s a very hard thing to deal with,’ she said sagely. ‘That’s why I wanted you to join my Survivors’ group so badly.’
‘Yeah, well, maybe I should have done. At least I mightn’t have been alone so much.’ I thought about that first bunch of lilies arriving at my house, the same day she’d turned up. The fact I must have somehow shown I hated them on TV. He’d been watching hard. ‘How did Seb get my address? You know he sent me loads of funeral flowers?’
‘That nice policeman told me.’ She shook her head sorrowfully. ‘Seb was so angry after I’d appeared on telly that day, kept ranting about people out to get him, and you sticking your nose in – but I didn’t take him seriously.’ She fiddled with a tassel on her dress. ‘He insisted on giving me a lift when I brought you the crash photos. I’d given him the address so he could look it up beforehand. Oh God –’ She caught her bottom lip with two pearly top teeth. ‘I’m so sorry, Maggie.’
‘It’s not your fault, Fay.’ I abandoned my foul tea. ‘I guess he loved you very much.’
She toyed with her mince pie. ‘I think he loved you too. He just had such a distorted view of it all. Poor Troy.’
‘Why, though?’ I felt the anger rise again. ‘Why was he so messed up?’
‘He had a very odd image of women generally. I was so in love with him, it took me a long time to realise it,’ she said sadly. ‘He invited us both to the film premiere, you know, though I didn’t realise it was him then. Perhaps he was hoping I’d see you with him and be insanely jealous.’
I looked at her. ‘Would you have been?’
She walked to the table in the window, flicked nervously through a Country Life magazine. ‘Probably. I knew he was wrong for me, but I loved him so much.’ Her eyes filled with tears and I thought of my love for Alex despite all the pain we’d been through, and I felt an enormous bolt of sorrow for the mess we were all in. ‘So much, Maggie. That’s why I put up with it for so long.’
‘I understand that, Fay,’ I said quietly. ‘I do, really.’
‘But I do think Troy really fell for you, Maggie.’ She was trying to be generous. ‘The only other time I spoke to him he told me he’d met someone really special, and I believed him. I was kind of relieved, but it still hurt.’ She looked at me now. ‘I just didn’t realise it was you.’
And this was where my mind
hit a wall. The sheer intimacy I’d shared with Seb, the sex, the eventual protestation of love. The fact that all those terrible things he’d done, he’d done after we’d been to bed together. He’d crept downstairs and painted abuse on the wall, he’d crept out and slashed his own tyres. He’d texted me even when we were at dinner together; he’d smashed up my flat and then casually joined me at Heathrow for a weekend in Cornwall. And he must have planted the phone in the box of stuff I’d returned to Alex, trying to frame him.
His malice had wrapped its insidious tendrils around almost every bit of my life, crept into everything and pulled at it until my very stability was shaken to its foundations. And the worst thing was, I couldn’t help but feel it was all my own stupid fault.
I’d known better than to get involved again when I was so down, so precariously near rock-bottom. I’d ignored my instincts, just refilled my glass time and time again and grasped onto Seb in a drunken haze as a welcome distraction. And I – and this is what I struggled with most – I’d found him very attractive and utterly convincing.
‘How could he have loved me?’ I mumbled. ‘He hated me so much.’
Fay looked out at the darkening sky. A flurry of raindrops hit the window in a sudden squall. ‘You know, right at the end I managed to get him to counselling. The therapist warned me he might be suffering from some kind of disorder – that he had a mother fixation – and she thought he needed proper help. But he refused to go back. I wish now – I should have insisted.’
‘It was his responsibility, Fay,’ I said quietly. ‘Not yours.’
We sat in silence for a while, both of us caught up in our own thoughts of this man who’d gone so mad. Eventually there was a gentle knock and a pink-cheeked Jenny popped her damp head round the door.
‘We’re back,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I could eat a horse! All those hills. Need anything, girls?’
‘I’d better go, actually,’ Fay said, standing. ‘I’ve got to get back to London tonight.’
Bad Friends Page 35