The Colour of Mermaids

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The Colour of Mermaids Page 9

by Catherine Curzon


  “I don’t want to rush off.” Water pattered like rain on the carpet as Eva wrung out her wet hair. “But I’m sure you don’t want to be hanging about. I’ll just chuck on my clothes and…we can say goodbye.”

  “For now.” Daniel smiled, his voice thoughtful. For now. Will that change when we leave this room and go back to our everyday lives? Is anything about Daniel Scott everyday? He picked up his sunglasses and unfolded the arms, carefully settling the glasses in his hair. “If your friend asks about her security card… Make it our secret?”

  “Of course.” Eva had tied her skirt back on and, with one arm in a sleeve of her blouse, leaned her head against Daniel’s chest in a half-embrace. “Our secret.”

  “They’re a speciality of mine.”

  Eva glanced up at his sunglasses, waiting for them to fall over his eyes again, the carapace to close over him once more. She finished putting on her blouse and wondered where her shoes had ended up. “Can I trust you to be a gentleman? I mean, not in everything, of course, but… I won’t gossip about you, I promise.”

  She realised too late that she had said the wrong thing. Daniel’s face darkened and he turned away, saying nothing until he was in the bathroom where he had thrown off his clothes.

  Then he appeared in the doorway, a clutch of black fabric in his hands, and asked, “Does this mean the painting’s not going to happen? Because you don’t want people to know that we—”

  He threw his shirt across onto the bed and began to dress, leaving the sentence unfinished.

  “It’s not that. It’s not that I don’t want people to know, but I’m sure you wouldn’t want to think that I’m going around Brighton going into detail about…about…” She gestured to the rumpled bed. “And of course the painting’ll happen. I really want to pose for you, Daniel. It was fun earlier, wasn’t it?”

  “I’m not eighteen.” He fastened his trousers and approached the bed to scoop up his shirt. “I don’t brag about my conquests and that’s not about to change. Don’t you trust me?”

  “Yes, I do.” At least, Eva was fairly sure she could. They had only met twice, even though it seemed as if they had known each other much longer. “I just wanted you to know that you could trust me too.”

  “If I didn’t think that, we wouldn’t be here.” He held out his hand to her. “If you want this to be another secret, that’s what it’ll be.”

  Eva took his hand. One day, would they walk along the prom, arms linked, sharing chips and candy floss? She swallowed down the thought. This was a liaison, two adults driven to distraction by each other. Hoping it might be a prelude to romance was to court disappointment.

  “A secret, but not secretive. Not furtive.” She squeezed his hand. “Fun and passionate and exciting.”

  Daniel bent his head to kiss her, then whispered, “Trust me.”

  There was something in his touch, or his voice perhaps, which made Eva take a leap. “I trust you, I really do.” Her heart beat faster as she knew she meant it.

  Did he believe her? Was that why the sunglasses remained in his hair, those coal-black eyes unhidden as they finished dressing and prepared to go back to the world outside? Clothed once more in what seemed to be his suit of armour, Daniel casually threw a couple of strawberries into his mouth and retrieved the chocolates from beside the bath. He offered them to her and asked, “Ready for that cab?”

  Eva put the chocolates in her bag. “Yes, and I’ll enjoy these, thank you.”

  The car was summoned with a few taps on his mobile phone, then the moment had come, and they left their sanctuary together. The hotel was quiet as they descended the stairs and passed the closed doors with their gold numbers. Behind them, though, were other assignations like theirs being enjoyed? Stolen evenings between virtual strangers, relationships beginning, perhaps even ending? Maybe, but none of them would have this crackling, burning intensity.

  Outside, the evening breeze struggled to stir the sultry summer air. Eva put her arm around Daniel’s middle, her face tipped up towards him as she wondered if he would kiss her on the hotel steps. “We’ll see each other soon.”

  “Count on it,” he replied as a private hire car pulled to a halt in front of them. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her, before murmuring, “Have a good night.”

  “And you.” Eva wondered how many good nights the man who couldn’t sleep or dream might have. She was almost into the taxi when she paused and looked back up at him again. “Thanks for a brilliant time!”

  “The best in a long time.” He smiled, the gesture one she already knew that he made all too rarely. “See you soon.”

  Eva responded with a wave and closed the taxi door behind her. She gave the driver her address, and as the car pulled away from the kerb, she glanced back at Daniel again, a dark figure on the pavement like a shadow in the streetlights.

  ‘The best in a long time.’ Eva kept that thought in her mind all the way home.

  The cab dropped her off in the darkened courtyard and she went into her house. She’d left in rather a hurry earlier and had to go from room to room closing the curtains as she went, but her mind drifted to other things. The curtains in the hotel room, and the feel of Daniel’s suit under her fingertips, and—

  A blinding flash of light went off inches from Eva’s face as she stood before the window in her front room. Her hands clamped on the curtains and she pressed her eyes tightly shut, a vivid afterimage repeating and repeating of a ball of light.

  Lightning, that was what it was. But Eva’s heart was racing as she finally drew the curtains closed, because she knew that it wasn’t lightning at all.

  It had been the flash of a camera.

  Chapter Four

  Eva barely slept. The camera flash sent her checking all her locks twice before going to bed, and she hovered over her phone, wondering if she should tell Daniel.

  Who would have taken a photo? As she lay in bed, she pictured the front page of the local paper bellowing BRIGHTON WOMAN IN TRYST WITH ARTIST. No, it couldn’t be the press, they wouldn’t care. Maybe it was a tourist, as the courtyard did look very pretty with its flower tubs and traditional pebbled walls.

  But why take the photo at night? Maybe it was something to do with outreach?

  But she couldn’t fathom what, other than a parent who’d been cut off from their child. And someone like that was more likely to go for the more direct message of a brick through the window.

  Rupert.

  Would he? If he’d found her earring and realised it was hers… If he’d seen what was in his bin… Would he have been jealous enough, not to mention creepy enough, to do that?

  When Eva finally slept, her dreams were voluptuous, a place without unexpected camera flashes, just flesh and pleasure and Daniel. She played them through her mind as she went off to meet Lyndsey, to keep her mind from darker things.

  Now it was Eva’s turn to wear sunglasses indoors, as she headed into the café. She wanted to keep them on to disguise her bleary eyes.

  It was probably nothing, I’m worrying over nothing, she told herself as she chose a table in the café and sat down.

  Lyndsey wouldn’t be late—it just wasn’t in her DNA. True to form, she arrived in the chintzy cafe that was their regular haunt two minutes before the appointed time. Here, among the tinkling crockery and polite chatter, there was no cause for concern, nothing but cheer, and Lyndsey brought more with her. She wore a bright red sundress and a white cardigan, a delicate gold cross nestling at the base of her throat and her usual pearl bracelet around one wrist. Her blonde hair was caught in a high ponytail and she was really as far from Daniel’s darkness as anyone could hope to be. The anti-Daniel.

  “Someone had a heavy night.” She laughed, letting her large handbag slide into the crook of her elbow. “Sunglasses indoors?”

  “Of course. I’m the rock’n’roll artist bad girl, haven’t you heard?” Eva slid off her sunglasses and put them away in her bag. Lyndsey stooped down and pecked her cheek, then
slipped into the empty seat.

  “What’ve you been up to?”

  “Drawing bees, that’s exciting, isn’t it?” Eva thought of Daniel, and saw him wink at her. She grinned. “And you, busy with the Daniel Scott exhibition, I suppose?”

  “Oh my God.” She picked up a menu. “So, I have to tell you three things about that. You will die.”

  Eva leaned her elbow against the table, an eyebrow raised. She couldn’t guess if these were going to be fairly minor incidents that had flashed up as red on Lyndsey’s melodramatic radar, or if something major had happened. “Go on…tell all!”

  “Oh my God,” Lyndsey said again, widening her blue eyes. “First and most naughty, I never got my pass back from him. Luckily, since I’m in charge of issuing them, only I know that so I won’t be disciplining myself. Second and most fabulous, we can’t accommodate all the people who want to see the show and we’re bursting at the seams. Third, wait for it… Are you ready?”

  “I am agog, Lyndsey. Don’t hold back or I might burst!”

  “Mr Scott came back to the gallery the day after the opening and went straight into Rupe’s office without even knocking. I don’t know what was going on because I couldn’t hear, and I tried, believe me.” She laughed brightly, shrugging off the admission. “But Rupe told me later that Mr Scott had spoken to someone—” As she went on, she pointed one French-tipped fingernail at Eva. “And that someone had told him about her painting for the poor and he wanted them to be given use of the gallery on whatever day was most convenient for them. You’ll never guess what else?”

  Eva shrank a little in her seat. It seemed as if she had unwittingly unleashed a nest of angry wasps. So much for bees. “Erm…no, I can’t guess.”

  “Well, Rupe was so stuck, bless him, because if he said he couldn’t and upset Mr Scott, then he might not exhibit with us again, or worse, but if he said yes, then what about the ticket holders?” She raised her eyebrows to emphasise the drama. “But Mr Scott, Mr Man-in-Black-Never-Smiles, told Rupert that in return, he’d let us have the show for one more week before it heads off to Paris so nobody misses their chance. Can you believe it? What a doll!”

  “He’s done all that for my outreach group?” Eva stared at Lyndsey in surprise. She wasn’t sure that Daniel would want her to know this. “I had no idea. I mean, he told me he’d spoken to Rupert, but I didn’t realise… Well, there you are, then. Bad-boy artist who isn’t so bad after all!”

  “Not what Rupert says.” She closed the menu. “Rupert wants to know how you did it. I won’t tell you what he actually said because you won’t like it!”

  “I probably wouldn’t…” Eva almost jumped as the camera flash came back into her mind again. “Lynds, did you get the text about my missing earring? Has it turned up at all?”

  “Oh, I will tell you because I know you want me to!” Lyndsey laughed, as though Eva had spent ten minutes begging to know what had been said. “He said care home rat sticking up for his council house cousins. Isn’t that horrid? I think he’s jealous because Mr Scott and Rupe don’t seem to get on.”

  “I wonder why that might be?” Eva felt the edge of Rupert’s desk against her bare thighs again. She wasn’t going to regret it. Rupert had it coming to him. He’d obviously thought she was supposed to have had Rupert puffing away on top of her to get the outreach group into the exhibition. What a gruesome thought. And if it was him creeping about in the courtyard at night, then he was going to have a very big surprise when he found Eva’s foot in his testicles.

  “And I turned the office inside out looking for that earring and my pass and found—” She froze, eyes widening again, one hand held up. “You know what I found, you rotten, dirty pair!”

  Lyndsey dissolved into laughter, then waved the hand she was holding in the air. “I can’t even say it. I can’t say anything but afternoon tea!”

  “I wonder where my earring could be?” Eva remarked, feigning innocence. But she couldn’t for long, and erupted in a dirty giggle. “It was amazing, Lynds. He’s amazing. He’s so…oh, he knows what he’s doing, that’s for sure. He’s such a tonic after Miles, really.”

  “Let’s order our treats, because I have to be terribly serious after that.” Lyndsey pouted. “I’m going to actually act my age for once!”

  “Shall we order the cake stand and a pot of Earl Grey?” Eva knew the cake stand was one of Lyndsey’s favourites, stacked with neat little sandwiches and an array of dainty cakes. “It’s on me, to say thank you for looking for my earring.”

  “Oh, yay!” She gave a little round of applause. “I’ll go and order, then it’s serious talk time.”

  Serious? Lyndsey headed to the counter, all joy and lightness. What could have gone on in Lyndsey’s enchanted world that could be serious?

  It would be nothing, of course, it always was. It was one of the joys of being her friend. There was so much drama, without there being any drama at all.

  When Lyndsey was settled at the table again, she knitted her hands carefully in front of herself and said, “I need to tell you something.”

  Eva moved the vase that stood between them to one side and leaned in closer. “I’m all ears.”

  “So you know that Miles and I are friends forever.” Of course Eva knew that—it had been Lyndsey who had introduced them, after all, who had been a shoulder to complain on when things hadn’t worked out. She was the best sort of friend a girl could hope for. “And I’m so sorry things didn’t work out for you and him and I hope you don’t mind but… Miles and I are seeing each other, Eva. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

  “Mind? Of course not!” Eva was somewhat surprised, but she reached for Lyndsey’s hands over the table. “That’s fantastic, I’m so pleased for you both! So is it all going well? Lots of snuggly dates?”

  Passionate sex over a desk didn’t quite seem to be Lyndsey’s thing, after all. Nor Miles’, for that matter.

  “Lots and lots,” her friend admitted, blushing prettily. “He’s such a lovely friend but so affectionate as a boyfriend. If you can still be a boy when you’ve just turned thirty-seven!”

  “That’s so sweet!” Eva grinned. She really was happy for the pair. Miles seemed better suited to Lyndsey than he had seemed to Eva. “I’m glad, really. I worried about Miles, when we split up. I didn’t want him to be lonely.”

  “He’s not the sort. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him anything but smiley!”

  Eva had, however, but she thought it best to skip over that. If a morning came when Miles woke up and told Lyndsey that she was too bloody cheerful and that arts management was a load of bunkum, then she would see the unsmiley version of the man that Eva had split up with.

  “Well, that’s good then!” Eva sat back in her chair as their lunch arrived, as twee as it would be delicious. There was something slightly not-twee about picking up one’s friend’s ex, but Eva dismissed the thought. There’d been plenty of that at art school, and Eva wasn’t a dog in the manger when it came to her exes. “I’m happy for you both.”

  “Are you sure?” Lyndsey’s coral pink lips set into a pout. “I know it’s not a best friends thing to do, but we didn’t think you’d mind, and we seem to just go together so well. He’s such a little sweetie, far more my sort of man than yours, she said knowingly.”

  “You already knew Miles before I started going out with him, so really, why would I complain?” Eva poured the tea into the floral cups that reminded her of Sunday visits to her grandparents. She knew how Lyndsey took it without having to ask. Sweet and sugary. “And as for Daniel… Well, yes, he is rather different from Miles, but I wouldn’t like to say he’s my man, exactly.”

  “Hmm.” Lyndsey nodded. “So have you seen him again? Are you dating?”

  Eva laughed. “Can you imagine a man like him dating?” She bit into a delicate triangle of a white bread sandwich and only once it was too late realised she had poked out her little finger. “We…well, we did meet up again, and we plan to meet again soon
, but it’s not like we’re in a relationship, or dating, or anything like that. We just—” Eva couldn’t say or even think the four-letter word in a chintzy teashop like this. “You know what grown adults do. And it’s fun, and he’s amazing, and we get on really well, but I’m under no illusions that he’s about to turn around and call himself my boyfriend or something like that.”

  “Do you remember when he came on the scene? You must’ve been at uni, because I was.” Lyndsey took a bite from one of the sandwiches. “We went to the Tate to see his first exhibition and wandered around feeling terribly grown up, stroking our chins at the horror. No pickled sharks for him!”

  “Yes, I remember. Everyone at my college was madly jealous of his career taking off like it did, and he even made some people go back to painting after faffing about with rather bad sculpture!” And now I’m posing for him. Eva had somehow managed to forget that he was famous. She only thought of him as Daniel, not Daniel Scott. “All that darkness, all the intensity. He’s hardly going to come here for scones!”

  Although, Eva wondered, might he, if she asked? If the gentle version of Daniel was uppermost?

  “He has to get them somewhere if he wants them,” was her friend’s reply. “Just think though, all those famous women who used to race to his viewings and now—” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Now he’s dating my best friend!”

  All those famous women. “Well, I’m famous. In Brighton, at least!” Eva said. “And we’re not dating, Lynds. By the way…it’s probably best not to say anything about it at the moment. I’m sure it’s just a passing thing, and he’s very private, really.”

 

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