Exposure (56 page)

Over the years since university, she had frequently enjoyed rerunning a delicious bit of mental footage. Once, Luke had come into the kitchen in very short cotton shorts. He did not bother to say hello, but pulled off his grass-stained T-shirt and, with a mesmerizing ripple of his abdominal muscles, threw it into the washing-machine. Then he walked over to the fridge and gulped down a half-litre of strawberry milk before he said,
'Beat
the wankers, three—nil.' Then he grinned and wiped his mouth on his arm. Caroline had thought she might faint, and after he left, she spilt hot chocolate on her Schopenhauer essay.

Now she took in his pale, sweating face. 'Oh, you look so ill, Luke. Normally it's your picture they have in the dictionary beside the word "health".'

'I just haven't been sleeping that well. I think I've been a bit depressed.'

'Hey, I know what it feels like,' Caroline said, nodding. 'I mean the whole nightmare of getting over someone and all that.'

Luke made eye-contact with her, his eyes searching her face. 'Do you?'

She was oddly moved by his interest in her feelings. 'Yes, of
course.
Fuck, I've had to get through it before. It's horrible. It's the worst pain in the world. You're all, like, "Does nobody
know
I'm in this terrible anguish? How can
God
let this happen?'" She shook her fist at the mirrored ceiling. "
'Is there anybody out there at all?
" You question everything, don't you? No, it's awful.'

Luke stared at her, sickened and afraid. To hear his private emotions parodied as if they were common to everyone—to people with acne! What did this unpopular girl know about the way he and Arianne loved? 'No,' he said, 'no, it's not like that.'

She recoiled. 'Oh. Well, look, I'm sorry. Obviously I have no idea what happened. Maybe you hate her. It's really none of my business.'

She looked away and Luke realized then and there that genuine loneliness was worse than humiliation. He said, 'No, I don't hate her. It
is
like you said. The only person I hate is him.'

'Him? What?' She crossed her eyes and prodded Luke's arm.
'jamie-with-the-hair?'

'Yes.'

'Why the hell's
she
going out with
him,
anyway? Other than the diamonds and so on, I mean.'

'No, no, she's really not like that,' Luke said. But as he spoke, he realized he wasn't sure if that was true.

'So maybe they're a real couple, then? Look, I don't want to rub it in—believe me, I sympathize—but maybe you just have to let go or whatever. You know what I'm saying?'

'No.'

'But if she's not in it for the wrong reasons, there must be something...'

He struggled to speak. He regretted placing his faith in Caroline, opening himself to this onslaught. 'No. All I wish is that he could just ... just
die.
'

Caroline smiled gently. 'Oh, Luke,' she said, 'but you know you've got to forgive and forget, really. Though I have no idea if there is anyone mature enough to actually wish their ex well. Actually, if there is I really don't think we'd get on.' She frowned in sympathy. 'God, life's tough, isn't it?'

Luke said, 'I've got a gun.'

She scrunched up her face as if he had told a disgusting joke.
'Sorry?
'

He lifted the butt a little way out of his pocket.

'Yes, but it's not
real
though?' she blurted out without thinking. When she went over it later, she realized that even if it had been a replica it would still have been bizarre of him to bring it to a party.

'It's real,' he told her.

She glanced around nervously and spoke in a level, quiet voice, with a false smile on her face. 'Come on. Not really, though.
Really,
Luke?'

'I said it is. It's real.'

She was plainly frightened. He noticed the way her pallor made all the spots stand out. He felt terribly sorry for her. How could he have been so viciously superior about someone like Caroline? Who the hell did he think he was? He took a sip of his drink to give his mouth a little moisture. He could see her eyes flicking round the room. 'You're scaring me,' she said. 'Is that what you want to do? I don't understand.'

'No, I don't want to scare you, Caroline, I promise. I only want to scare him.'

'But why? What's the point? What's the point of scaring people? They'll just be
scared,
that's all, they won't
change.
Why would that stop them loving each other? What has a gun got to do with that?'

Caroline waited a moment. 'Luke, you're not crazy and this is
crazy-person
behaviour. You're
so
far from crazy, you're the most—'

'Dull, conventional.
Go on,' he said.

'No!
'

'Yes. That's what I am.'

'No, you're not. You're gorgeous, OK? I've been completely mad about you since we were at university—I'm amazed you never guessed. Well,
there—now you know.
'

What was he supposed to say to this? Because, of course, he had known and he really didn't care. This irrelevance, couched in such significant words, only added to the sense of madness. He stood up as if he might shake it off and restore order, but Caroline jumped up with him. 'Luke!' she cried out, then she clapped a hand over her mouth.

An image came into his mind of what she must imagine he was about to do. He saw himself slowly take the gun out of his pocket and fire it—just once—into the air. Cracks forked across the mirrored ceiling and several fragments dropped. He saw the crowds parted, backed against the wall, the music turned off and everyone motionless, as if they were expecting to be in a photograph, waiting for the flash to go off.

How could he make both the sense of madness and this image of Caroline's disappear? He thought about running—the sound of running, the way his breath would be jarred out with each footfall. But he stood still.

And then, suddenly, with a mouthwatering scent of peaches and jasmine, Arianne walked up beside them. She said, 'Hey, Luke, I
thought
I spotted you. How funny you're here. Isn't it an amazing party? Did you like the falling stars? They were my idea.' Before he had answered her, which did not seem to be part of her objective, she turned to Caroline and leant over to kiss her on either cheek. 'Hi, we haven't met,' she said.

'Hello,' Caroline said, stuttering her name abruptly, less out of awkward loyalty to Luke than because of the stunning effect of the presence of this girl. To be next to her was like standing too close to the edge of a platform as an express train roared past: sheer force of personality, rattling your teeth.

'Caroline Selwyn? Why do I know your name? Are you on TV or something? Oh, God, are you
incredibly
famous?'

'No, I'm not.'

'Thank God for that. Oh, no,
I know
— Jamie reads your column in the Saturday
Telegraph.
Is that right?'

Caroline looked surprised. 'Um, yes. Yes, it is.'

The two girls stared at each other, and it occurred to Caroline that Arianne might think she was the new girlfriend.
Luke Langford's
new girlfriend—and after this amazing creature: it was delectable!

'Oh,
wow,
you're a
really good writer
' Arianne said. 'Jamie's
always
saying so. I'll have to read it too, now I've met you. Make me feel
very
important over my morning cappuccino to actually
know
the columnist.' Arianne smiled so beautifully—it was such a prime example of a smile—that it would have required great spiritual poverty not to return it.

'Oh. Well, thanks very much. I hope he keeps reading it,' Caroline said. She was wildly flattered, in spite of herself. She loved the thought of the words she edited meticulously late into the night, with an uncouth tub of ice-cream and a bag of nachos beside her, finding their way into such glamorous hands. Just to picture it: her spotty face in the byline photograph on this girl's breakfast table—by the natural yoghurt, the honeydew melon, the serene green tea!

Then she remembered that Luke had a real gun in his pocket and she watched, in paralysed agony, as Arianne turned to talk to him.

Luke's face was so pale now as to make the grey of his eyes appear lurid and fake. He seemed to have become thinner in the last few minutes—his cheekbones stood out sharply. He was clenching both fists and smiling tightly.

Arianne said, 'You look ... you look thinner, I think.'

'You look beautiful.'

'Oh, God—thank you. It's really just the necklace.'

Caroline said, 'It's an amazing present. I wish a boyfriend of mine would give me a present like that.'

'Yes, I'm so lucky,' Arianne said vaguely, as her fingers touched the little diamonds at her throat. 'I had absolutely no idea he was going to get me anything at all.'

Jamie appeared behind her. 'You showing off, baby?' he said, tousling her hair. 'Is she flaunting her jewels?'

Shamefaced, Arianne lowered herself so that he could drape his arm over her shoulder. Jamie laughed at her. 'You do what you like, sweetheart. I just want you to be happy.'

She smiled at him, then turned back to Caroline, who, she knew perfectly well, would be the only girl in the room self-effacing enough to grant her an opportunity to boast. 'You can see it if you like,' she said. 'It's Victorian. The clasp's a bit tricky so you might have to help. Here, I'll turn round and you can take it off'

'Oh, sure, OK. No problem,' Caroline said. 'I'd completely love to see it.'

Jamie grinned at Luke. 'Women.' He shook his head, but there was little life in the sarcasm. 'So,' he paused for a sip of his cocktail—it was something pale orange in a martini glass, 'so, Arianne pointed you out to me. You had a brief thing before she met me, she said. You're not press, right? Are you?'

'No.'

'I didn't think so. What do you do, Luke?'

'I'm an account ... I'm in advertising.'

'Right. Got it. You're a creative?'

'No, I—'

'Oh, OK, no, I get it. You're one of the guys who ... What do you call it?'

'An account manager.'

'Jeeze. Sounds like a bank manager.'

'It's not. And you're a soap actor?'

'For now. I have a Hollywood film coming up.' Jamie smiled and took another sip of his drink. 'So, I'm wondering something, Luke—'

Arianne squealed. 'Oh, my
God,
you're so right! It does actually work fantastically as a bracelet. Do you think you could do that in the day, you know, with jeans and a sweatshirt or whatever? Or is it just too, like,
HELLO, DIAMONDS
?' She was talking to a campy, high-fashion gay man, who had joined her and Caroline.

Jamie observed them for a moment and then continued, 'Yeah ... So, Luke, I'm wondering how you managed to get in, man.'

'Through the door,' Luke said. He could feel his mouth attempting to twitch out a smile and all the while he thought: Shoot him in the heart. He thought: This man is the thief of happiness.

Jamie was laughing. '
Through the door.
Oh, that's very funny. You're very funny. Do you have a light?'

Luke took the lighter out of his pocket and flicked up the flame in front of Jamie's cigarette. Jamie leant towards it.
'Boom,
' he said, widening his eyes. He puffed out smoke as he moved back. 'Oh, look, I don't mean to be a wanker. I'm actually a decent bloke, mate, I really am.'

Shoot him in the heart, Luke thought. In the heart. His fingers tensed round the gun.

'But it's, like, you
follow
her,' Jamie said. 'I mean, why do you do that?'

'I don't.'

'Come on, now. You sit on your own in the clubs she goes to, mate. I've seen you myself. We've all seen you. We make bets. In fact, I've won three hundred quid tonight. I
said
you'd find a way. I've got fucking
faith
in you, man.' He pointed at Luke with his head tilted affectionately on one side, then he lowered his arm. 'Look, you have two choices. One is that I can get Steve on the door to throw you out. Now, I'm totally happy for you to go with this option because it'll get more coverage: "Gatecrasher thrown out of exclusive new club, Lapis-Lazuli".You get the idea. That's a lot of free publicity, so you should definitely feel free to go with that option.' Then he put his hand on Luke's shoulder. 'Or,' he said, 'or you can
just leave.
OK? Because I don't want to fuck you up any more than you obviously are already. Shit—you need to get some
self-respect,
mate. No woman is going to want you like this. You're
good-looking.
Be a
man,
yeah?'

Luke stared at the tanned face, the polished teeth through the fierce smile, the smooth black hair. This was a man. Jamie Turnbull was telling him how to be a man.

'OK,' Arianne said, 'finished the tedious girly stuff.' She smiled up at Jamie, who kissed her forehead. When he had his arm round her she looked calm, rather than angry or insatiable. Without those qualities, she appeared to be—happy. A little less sexy, perhaps, but happy. She glanced at Luke and he saw a brief burst of genuine pity in her eyes. Then Jamie lifted her off the ground and she giggled like a child as he tickled her ribs and swung her long legs out to one side, then the other. 'Put me
down!'
she said.

'Now, why would I do that? Give me eight hundred good reasons and I'll think it over.'

The giggling and the tickling and the swinging went on and on. Luke watched it as helplessly as a man in his pyjamas before a blazing building. At last two other friends came up to say hello to Jamie and he was forced to put Arianne down and greet them. One of them was a man in a showgirl costume with gold feathers on his head and bright red stiletto boots.

Luke's fingers let go of the gun and it swung freely in his blazer pocket, knocking against his leg, like a pendulum. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Caroline. There she cowered, hating him, fearing him. He said her name and, reluctantly, she raised her eyes. She looked nauseous with terror.