Goodbye Ruby Tuesday (17 page)

‘I was showing some furniture to a client at the studio. It was the first thing I’d managed to get a seller for. Evelyn was a big help. It was the first step to getting back on my feet, building a business up again. The woman came round; she was young, enthusiastic. She liked my work, said she’d come back with money the next day. Ruby saw her. I guess she felt threatened.’

For anyone else, it would seem mad, but when it came to men, Ruby didn’t like competition. She was so used to people falling at her feet. Evie guessed that if Killian was her confidante, she didn’t want to lose that either. Ruby was a ‘have your cake and eat it’ kind of girl, and if you couldn’t eat it, you spat on someone else’s cake so they couldn’t have it either.

‘She tried to seduce me,’ Killian looked embarrassed, ‘I guess that’s the only way to phrase it. I was horrified, tried to ask her how she was, what was wrong, but that only made her madder.’

‘Couldn’t stand the idea of someone not wanting her.’ Evie rolled her eyes, letting out a deep sigh as she wiped the eyeliner from her eyes, ‘That was Ruby.’

‘We left it awkwardly, she stormed out and when I returned to meet the buyer the next day, I found my furniture snapped and my workroom trashed. I lost the sale and I had to start from scratch again. It took more months, and more than that, I’d lost a friend. The only friend I really had.’

Evie exhaled slowly, swirling the drink around the glass. She looked across at him, sitting there looking uncomfortable.

‘So that’s why you were angry?’

Killian shrugged, ‘I was angry that my friend was gone, lost to booze and drugs and jealousy, and that I’d been so close to fixing my life only to have to start again. But most of all, I was angry that I told her she was pathetic, and that was the last thing I said to her before she died.’

The silence settled around them.

‘You know, just because you care about someone, it doesn’t make them a good person,’ Evie said. ‘I should know.’ She smiled softly at him, ‘Ruby was this beautiful, wonderful person, made up of big dreams and bad attitude. Didn’t mean she wasn’t as fucked-up as the rest of us.’

‘I still feel like shit,’ he shrugged, raising an eyebrow at her, ‘and when I found out you guys were coming, the last thing I wanted was a reminder of just how shitty I was to your friend. The one who left you this apparently magical space.’

‘We’re not here to screw anything up, Killian, honestly,’ Evie said, keeping eye contact. ‘We just want to make something for ourselves. Use this chance she gave us.’

Killian nodded, his eyes looking around the room for another topic of conversation, something lighter.

‘So… Esme seems happy, after everything that went on.’

‘Yup,’ Evie stretched her legs out in front of her, flexing her feet. ‘Back to being a little nutcase. She’s great.’

‘She’s into her books, I noticed.’

‘She’s into everything. It’s exhausting,’ Evie grinned. ‘But already, she’s coming out of her shell being here. She’s still nattering on about making a window seat. As if having a secret room isn’t enough! It’s good for her though, it’s her first real home.’

‘What about her dad?’

Evie inhaled sharply, knowing to tread carefully. ‘They were really young. It was a boy from school. His parents weren’t too keen on him throwing away his bright future on a girl from the estate.’

‘He didn’t fight?’ Killian’s frown was deep set.

‘He might have, but they were seventeen. What power did he really have?’ Evie shrugged.

‘He should have fought.’

Evie shrugged, ‘None of us really know what happened. Mollie doesn’t like to talk about it.’

‘And what about you?’

‘What about me?’ Evie asked, frowning.

‘Ruby was here for the fame, Mollie’s here to make a life for her kid. What are you here for?’

Evie sat and thought for a moment, wondering how to sum up an entire life full of desire in a single sentence.

‘I’m here to prove I can do something other than waste time pointlessly in a little town until I die.’

‘Dark and deep, mysterious girl,’ Killian grinned.

‘Not so mysterious, what did Ruby say about me?’

Killian laughed, throwing back the last of his whisky, ‘She said you were a force to be reckoned with.’

The air fizzled a little with possibility, and she watched his hands circle the glass tumbler, then still. The silence seemed to stretch on forever, watching his light eyes in the darkness, the soft light from his workshop making it seem as if the whole world had gone to sleep.

‘I… I better go to bed. Work starts properly tomorrow.’

He nodded, ‘Well, maybe I’ll see you around for some late night music.’

‘Maybe I’ll find something that isn’t whisky,’ she made a face, standing up. ‘Night.’

Her pathetic little wave made her blush, and she turned on her heel to bound upstairs, wondering how someone could change so quickly overnight, and what tomorrow would bring.

Chapter Nine

‘Okay, so I think we’re officially old now,’ Evie groaned at Mollie the next morning. Mollie just put up a hand, eyes half open, and handed her a cup of coffee.

‘I’m going back to bed,’ she croaked.

‘Oh, so I’ll get Ez her breakfast, shall I?’ Evie said sarcastically to Mollie’s retreating back.

‘You were the one who ordered that last bottle of prosecco!’ she argued.

‘And you were the one who pushed her out of your lady parts ten years ago!’ Evie said, but it was half-hearted, and she was just grateful for things to be back to normal.

‘Ez can have ice cream for breakfast at this point, I don’t care,’ Mollie laughed, threw an arm around her friend briefly and stumbled back to bed.

After a shower and a particularly annoying perky text message from Chelsea, who was already at work after doing her morning hot yoga session, Evie decided a walk in the sunshine was in order. She had a day to start after all, and she’d had an idea for making her painting into a three-dimensional sculpture, hearing about a scrapyard where she could get hold of a variety of different found objects. She knew exactly what the space needed for the opening, and making something would be therapeutic – a balm. She stepped out in the sunshine, enjoying the quiet of the warm road.

‘Hey, Evie!’ a painfully loud voice called from behind her, and there, of course, was Killian, looking gorgeous in the sunshine, wearing a sawdust-free t-shirt and jeans combo for the first time since she’d met him.

She looked down at her own ensemble – hole-ridden leggings, an oversized Guinness t-shirt she’d probably stolen from Nigel, and a pair of cherry-red cats’ eye sunglasses. She could feel the hangover hovering, as if every spare drop of alcohol was being excreted through her skin, like she was drowning in warm prosecco and regret, whilst Killian’s cheery morning persona made her want to bash herself over the head.

‘Hi,’ she croaked, ‘where are you going?’

‘Evelyn’s,’ he shrugged, ‘where are you off to?’

‘Scouting out some crap for an art project,’ she said wearily, reaching for a bottle of water.

‘You sound so enthusiastic about it,’ his chuckle was deep and warm. ‘You walking my way?’

Evie shrugged and nodded, shuffling on alongside him.

‘I think we’ve switched personas,’ Killian said seriously, ‘suddenly I’m cheery and optimistic and you’re the sullen one.’

She paused, briefly pulling down her sunglasses to look at him severely, ‘I have
never
been a cheery optimistic. And I’m hungover, not sullen.’

He laughed at how serious she looked, ‘Sorry, but comparatively, with all your hope and “we’re going to create an amazing art gallery” stuff when you arrived. Yep. Definitely an optimist!’

‘Urgh, I’m not. I’m determined,’ she groaned. ‘Scrappy, maybe. Bossy, most certainly.’

‘Whatever you say, sunshine,’ he held his hands up, and she shrugged. ‘Mollie and Esme not joining you?’

‘Mollie has gone back to bed, I think she’s taking Ez out to some summer fair in Hyde Park later.’

‘Huh,’ Killian said, ‘so I’ll have the place to myself today.’

‘Yes, you can make stuff in peace, without little feet running up and down and drunken women wandering in late at night.’

Killian snorted, ‘I’ve adapted. Didn’t think it was possible at my age but it’s quite nice for the place to be busy.’

They walked quietly together for a while, Evie too hungover to even be awkward or embarrassed around him any more, which was working in her favour. She didn’t know how much time had passed, just focusing on pounding along, one foot in front of the other, when she suddenly realised it had been an eternity since they had spoken to each other.

‘Sorry… for being quiet.’

‘I’m enjoying it, it’s unusual,’ he smirked, and nudged her arm as they walked. She inhaled sharply.

‘So, you enjoyed your night?’

Evie sighed a little, tilting her head back and forth to try and prepare herself for real conversation.

‘It was good. My friend Chelsea, who you met. She’d been distant since we got here, so it was nice to go out with her.’

‘Apparently so. Is her head hurting as much as yours?’

Evie growled, ‘No, the bitch was up at yoga at five a.m. or something ridiculous, and now she’s at work.’

‘Superhuman.’

‘Super irritating,’ she sighed. ‘But that’s Chels, overachiever till the end.’
Regardless of where she started,
Evie thought to herself with some pride. ‘So… you normally go hang with Evelyn during the week?’

‘I make a point to stop by,’ he shrugged, then whispered, ‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m kind of a loner…’

‘You? No!’ Evie rolled her eyes, and tried for a cheeky smile.

He snorted and continued walking, stopped in front of Evelyn’s house. ‘Well, enjoy your day of foraging.’

‘And enjoy your day of charming older ladies and working quietly,’ she laughed, adjusting her sunglasses, ‘I bet you’ll miss us.’

‘Yeah,’ he nodded thoughtfully, ‘maybe I will. So, maybe we should go for dinner.’

Evie started, glad she had the sunglasses on, ‘What?’

‘Dinner? Evening meal, often accompanied by conversation,’ he shrugged, hands in his pockets, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

‘Cheers, smart-ass. Why on earth would you want to have dinner with me?’

‘Dunno,’ he shrugged, ‘have dinner and find out.’

Evie blinked, tilting her head to the side. ‘You are a strange, strange man. And I’m hungover, maybe I’m not interpreting this properly. You don’t like me. We
just
started interacting without wanting to throttle each other.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ he grinned, bouncing on his heels.

‘You’re enjoying this.’

‘Seeing you squirm? Just a little.’

Evie shook her head, ‘So what would we do on this date?’

‘Get dressed up, eat some great food, talk about stuff other than your dead friend and work?’

Evie looked at him, ‘So you’ll be wearing something other than your jeans and dust-covered t-shirt ensemble.’

He twitched his mouth, deep in thought, ‘I’m pretty sure I have a pair of chinos I wore in the nineties in my cupboard somewhere.’

‘Ah, back when I was a baby?’ She laughed.

‘Fuck off, you’re not that much younger than me.’ He nudged her, and the brief contact made something in her stomach flutter.

‘In spirit though…’ she did a dramatic twirl on the pavement ‘… in spirit I am still nineteen.’

‘You want to tell your hangover that? Because it’s all downhill from here.’ Killian looked beautiful when he laughed. His skin glowed in the sunshine, and he looked strong and solid, so unlike the skinny hipster artists she’d dated, or the angry punk boys before that. Even Nigel, who had been homely, comforting with his soft smile and broad frame, none of them had ever looked like they were strong enough to handle her. Killian looked… well, he looked like someone who wouldn’t put up with any of her bullshit. Which was strangely attractive.

‘I dunno, I heard a woman in her thirties is in her sexual prime,’ she shrugged casually, watching with amusement as his face froze. ‘Can’t be all bad.’

‘I suppose that’s a fair trade for the hangovers,’ he said faintly.

Evelyn came to the door, waving at them both, ‘Hello darlings!’

They grinned back stiffly, waving their arms.

‘I better go,’ Killian nodded towards the door, ‘was that a yes to dinner?’

Evie tilted her head, trying to figure out what his angle was.

‘Saturday night?’ he wiggled his eyebrows, ‘I’ll pick you in my motorised scooter, don’t forget your Zimmer frame.’ He turned and walked up the stairs to the front door.

Evie shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked at him, ‘Hey, I haven’t said yes!’

‘So say yes!’ he called back down to her, smiling.

‘You can’t see because of the sunglasses, but I’m rolling my eyes at you!’ she called back.

‘I have absolutely no doubt!’ He grinned knowingly, greeted Evelyn at the top of the stairs, and disappeared, leaving Evie staring at him in disbelief.

Evie had a fair bit of luck at the scrapyard, charity shops and even walking along the roads where people left out boxes of junk to be taken. Her backpack was full, which, considering she didn’t really know what she was looking for, was an achievement. She was in full magpie mode, anything glittering, sparkling or red, it went into the bag. She was quite excited to sit down and get going on her project. But of course, the hangover hit again around three p.m., and so the rest of the day was spent curled up on the sofa watching Disney movies, drinking milky tea and napping intermittently.

That evening, Evie sat down at the desk in her room, fuelled by coffee and excitement, waiting for Esme and Mollie to return. She started designing a poster for their opening exhibition. Needing inspiration, she looked through Ruby’s pictures – the ones taken at gigs, festivals and plastered on the front pages of glossy magazines by the paparazzi. Then she went back through her own photos, the ones in boxes she’d brought with her, all taken on film, actually printed, in that fuzzy, furry way that pictures looked before digital. They looked young, was her first thought, before she shook it away.
Obviously we looked young. We were young.
There they were, in those awful school uniforms with the green and purple checked skirts, and the dark purple jumpers. She looked like the angry girl she was, with thick purple streaks in her black curly hair, done with cheap dye she’d found in the corner shop and bought on a whim. Her eyes were lined with thick black kohl, and she had an unflattering maroon lipstick on that clashed horribly with her olive skin. She was pouting at the camera like the person holding it was an idiot. Mollie looked like an awkward teenage – as Esme would no doubt look in six years – except Mollie hadn’t had her daughter’s confidence. Mollie’s long blonde hair sat neatly over her shoulder, her back ramrod straight. She was smiling, but her head was tilted down. Evie recalled it wasn’t actually her nervousness, but the fact she’d had an unholy crater of a spot on her chin that day, and was angling to hide it from the camera. Chelsea was loud and ridiculous, leaning forward, her arms outstretched, pierced tongue out. Her blonde hair (also from a box from the same corner shop) was slicked back with gel, so tight you could see the spotty skin around her hairline. She had huge hoop earrings the size of plates, and as she held her head up defiantly, you could see a dramatic change in colour along her jawline, where the foundation she was wearing suddenly stopped. And in the middle was Ruby, much the same as she had always been, and who she’d become. She faced the camera head-on, somehow in the background, further away than the rest of the girls, all jostling for attention, and yet… that haughty look she threw the camera, the hint of a smile around her mouth as if she knew something you didn’t. Well, that was Ruby. It was understated, but alluring. Even at sixteen. Her cat-eye liquid liner was perfect, and her red hair fell smoothly, luscious, but not as huge as it became later, as she curled it and worked in the volume, covered it with sparkly headdresses or flower headbands. No, Ruby just sat there in the middle, wordlessly telling the world that they’d better remember her name, because she was going to be important.
God, what the paparazzi would pay for a photo like this,
Evie thought wryly, fingers tracing their young faces. Ruby before she became Ruby Tuesday. She propped the photo up on the wall above her desk, and started sketching out ideas. She seemed to be drawing for ages, her hand cramping up, but there was the prototype.