I Found You (20 page)

He nods vaguely. And then suddenly he turns to Alice, his expression stricken and terrified, and he says, ‘I think we should go to the police. I think we should go now. Seriously.’

‘What!’

‘The longer I’m here, the more I know that I’ve done something really bad. That phone ringing – it was about me. I know it was. Someone was ringing about me. Someone who thought I’d be there. And maybe it was someone who loves me. Or maybe it was someone who wants to kill me. Or maybe it was someone I’ve hurt. But they were calling here. And here is close to you. And I cannot be in your house any more, not without knowing who I am. Because I’m really starting to think, Alice, really, really, that who I am is bad. Please, Alice, take me now. Take me and leave me there. Let the police sort this out. I mean it. I really do.’

Alice inhales sharply. She feels a kick to her gut and a tiny burst of nausea.

She stares at Frank for a while, her eyes locked on to his. He looks genuinely terrified. She wants to hold him, but she senses that he does not want to be held, that he wants to escape. She sighs, softly, and
says, ‘There are no police here. The nearest police station is eight miles away. And it will be closed on a Sunday. I could call the police, but I’m not sure what I’d say to them:
Hello, there’s a man in my house who thinks he might have done something, to someone, somewhere. Please come immediately
.’ She smiles tightly, desperate to be right about someone for once in her life, desperate to keep Frank and prove to herself and the world that this wasn’t a mistake. And even if he’s right, even if he has killed someone, he’d have a good reason for it; she knows he would. ‘So listen, stay one more night. Please. One more night, then in the morning, after I’ve dropped Romaine at school, I’ll take you. OK?’

He looks unconvinced.

‘And remember,’ she continues, ‘that pub? We were going to go there for lunch? To try their famous toffee Yorkshire puddings and see what you could remember? Yes?’

He lets his head drop slightly and nods.

‘Come on then. We’ll go via home and book a table. It gets busy there on a Sunday. And we’re a big group.’ She touches his elbow and begins guiding him gently towards town. ‘We’ll just take Sadie. Give her some quality time without those two other buffoons. And if we’re lucky, there might be some live music. They often have live music. I wonder what sort of music you like, Frank. Indie guitar bands, I reckon, by the look
of you.’ She’s blathering, deliberately, not wanting to give Frank a chance to think or talk, not wanting him to remember that he doesn’t want to be here any more. Because Alice really, really doesn’t want Frank to go. She doesn’t want to leave him at a police station and get a smug call from him in few days saying,
Thanks for everything – my wife and I are so grateful to you
. Or a call from the police saying,
He’s an axe murderer. We’ll need to bring you in for questioning
.

She doesn’t want anything other than to wake up in his arms every morning between now and the end of time.

‘Elbow,’ he says vaguely.

‘What?’

‘Elbow,’ he repeats, with more feeling.

She looks at his elbow, questioningly. ‘What? You mean . . .?’

‘That’s what I like. I like Elbow. Are they real? Are they real music?’

‘Yes,’ she smiles. ‘Yes, they are. They’re really good.’

‘Can we listen to some? Later?’

‘Sure,’ says Alice, taking his hand in hers. ‘Of course we can.’

‘Wow!’ he says, his whole demeanour brightening. ‘I can’t believe I remembered that.’

Alice squeezes his hand and smiles at him. ‘Batter,’ she says.

‘What?’

‘Yorkshire puddings. They’re made of batter. Big golden puffs of batter.’

‘Ah,’ he says. ‘I think I remember those. I think I do.’

Then he puts his arm across her shoulder and pulls her to him and they walk towards the heart of town together, the dark shadow of the house on the cliff fading away behind them.

1993

More people arrived at about eleven, fresh from the Hope and Anchor. Mark swung the front door open to them and they trailed into the house. Gray watched from the door of the snug. He wasn’t sure he liked the look of this lot. They were older, weather-worn, burly and rough around the edges. Most of them were drunk. Mark looked unfazed by their arrival.

‘Come in, come in!’ he called out, high-fiving and fist-touching and taking carrier bags full of beer. ‘The party’s through there.’ He gestured towards the doorway where Gray was standing. The new arrivals looked around the house as they entered, checking out the ceiling heights and the sparkling crystal chandeliers. A small guy with his hair held back in a lank
ponytail seemed to be the one responsible for bringing everyone to the house. ‘Hope you don’t mind,’ he called out to Mark over the shoulders of the men in front of him, ‘we picked up a few stragglers en route.’

‘No, no, no,’ said Mark, clasping the man’s hand tightly and then doing a complicated twisty handshake. ‘The more the merrier. Definitely. Come in, come in.’ He gestured the last few people in. There were roughly twenty of them, mainly men, a couple of younger-looking girls and a woman who looked about fifty with a shaved head and pierced eyebrows.

The three girls looked round curiously as the new guests arrived. Alex stood up smartly and said, ‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome!’

They lined up at the bar while Mark served them all drinks. Gray stood at the side of the room and stared at them. The guy with the ponytail was making a spliff on the bar. The shaven-headed woman was smoking one she’d made earlier. Two of the younger men were hitting on Izzy and Harrie, who appeared not to be at all unhappy about this. He turned to see what Kirsty was doing and saw her sitting on the fire fender staring into the dead embers.

‘Come on,’ he said, joining her, ‘let’s go home.’

She turned to look at him and he could see immediately that something wasn’t right. She was smiling at him lovingly, her eyes filled with sparkles. ‘My beautiful brother,’ she said, pulling him towards her and then
holding his face between the palms of her hands. ‘Just look at you. Look at your beautiful face. You are such a good person. Such a
beautiful
person.’ She pulled him towards her and held him hard against her.

He pulled away and looked into her eyes. ‘Christ, Kirst. Did you have more E?’ he demanded.

‘I did,’ she said, nestling her head into the crook of his neck. ‘I truly did.’

‘Oh, fuck. Kirsty! How the hell am I supposed to take you home now? I can’t take you home like this. Oh, for fuck’s sake! How much did you have?’

‘Just one.’

‘One what? One quarter? One half?’

‘One whole,’ she said.

‘You had a whole one! Plus the quarter!’

‘God, I don’t know. Who cares? It’s all just so beautiful. This house. And these people. And you, Gray. My beautiful brother. Let’s go and see the peacock! Come on!’

She got to her feet and he stared down at her. ‘Fine,’ he said, thinking that actually some fresh air might be just what was needed. ‘We’ll go and see the peacock. And then I’m getting you a cup of coffee and a pint of water and I’m taking you home. But fuck, Kirst, you’ve got to promise me you won’t take anything else. Seriously. It’s dangerous.’

‘It’s not dangerous, my beautiful brother. How can it be dangerous? Look what happened to you! You
kissed that girl! Seriously, Gray! It’s the answer to everything!’

He turned to look at Izzy who was now sitting with her legs hooked over the lap of one of the men from the pub and playing with Harrie’s hair; Harrie had her head in Izzy’s lap. The man from the pub looked as if he was too scared to move, or even to breathe. Mark meanwhile was sliding beers and cocktails across the counter and passing out more and more of his white pills and the music was getting harder and harder and the chatter was getting louder and louder and the air was filled with smoke and shadows of people dancing and Gray was now fairly convinced that Mark’s aunt was not in the house.

‘Come on then,’ he said, ‘let’s go and find the peacock.’

The air outside was crisp, more October than the first day of August. A light mist hovered between the ground and the sky and the gardens glowed silver in the moonlight. The bass of the music was still loud out here, the beat insistent and raw, and Kirsty danced and spun ahead of him. Gray breathed in deeply, trying to clear his head. The effect of the E hadn’t lasted long and in fact, apart from the manic bliss of his kiss with Izzy half an hour ago, he wasn’t sure it had really done anything at all.

He scoped the gardens, looking for the peacock, and then there, in the distance, glimpsed a shimmer
and flurry, a screech and a sudden movement. ‘There,’ he said to Kirsty. ‘There he is.’

Kirsty put her hands to her mouth and whispered, ‘Oh, look. Look at him. Look at him, Gray!’

They tiptoed across the soft grass, then sat side by side a few feet away from him and watched. Kirsty nestled her head into the crook of Gray’s neck and he felt a softness open up in his belly. She’d never been affectionate with him before. There’d always been that polite remove between them, but here she was, her heart wide open, holding on to him and loving him. He put his arm around her waist and he pulled her closer and he whispered into her ear, ‘Love you, little sis.’ And she whispered back, ‘Love you, too, big bro.’

And there before them the peacock suddenly turned towards the light of the house, towards his audience, and he opened up his fan of plumage and he shook it in time to the music and Kirsty opened her mouth wide and said, ‘Wow! He’s dancing! The peacock is dancing!’

‘He is!’ Gray laughed. ‘He really is!’

And as he said this he saw a shaft of light fall across the lawn and the shadow of a man stretched out before them. They both turned and saw Mark heading towards them with a handful of beers.

‘Hello, you two,’ he said loudly.

Gray stifled a groan.

‘What are you doing out here?’

‘Just watching the peacock,’ said Kirsty. ‘He’s dancing!’

Mark sat down next to them and passed them each a beer. ‘Dancing peacocks, eh?’

‘Yes, look!’

But the peacock had disappeared.

‘Oh,’ said Kirsty.

‘So,’ said Mark, looking at Gray, clearly uninterested in the dancing peacock, ‘you appear to have lost Izzy to the charms of a local oik.’

Gray shrugged. ‘She was never mine.’

‘She looked quite a lot like she was yours, earlier.’

‘It’s just drugs, isn’t it? It wasn’t real.’

Mark nodded. ‘Like dancing peacocks?’

Gray ignored him. ‘Who
are
all those people in there, anyway?’

‘Locals. You know. People who actually live here all year. Christ. Just imagine.’

‘Do you know them?’

‘Some of them, sure. I’ve been coming here all my life, remember. Since I was a kid.’

There was a long silence, pierced by screams of laughter coming from inside the house.

‘So,’ said Mark, a while later. ‘The other morning. What the hell was that all about?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know what I mean. I mean me basically being
dumped
, by you
and
your parents, on your
doorstep
. That wasn’t very nice.’

Neither of them said anything.

‘I mean, I assume that that’s what it was? Yes? I was being dumped by proxy?’

Gray held Kirsty closer to him. ‘She was just feeling ill. She wasn’t in the mood.’

‘So, you and me, Kirsty. Are we still on?’

Kirsty didn’t reply, just nestled closer to Gray.

‘Are you feeling better now?’ he insisted. ‘Well enough to come out with me tomorrow night?’

He plucked at the grass with his fingers as he talked. His voice was shrill. His energy was manic.

‘I don’t know,’ said Kirsty. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘What does that
mean
? You’re either into me or you’re not. You either want to go out with me or you don’t. We’re either on or we’re off.’

Kirsty said nothing.

‘Well?’

‘Listen, Mark, it’s late. She’s wired. I need to get her home. Let’s have this conversation another day, shall we? When we’re all a bit less . . .
chemical
.’

‘But don’t you see? That’s precisely why we should have this conversation right now. While all the emotions are running on the surface. While we’re all feeling
real
.’

‘Mark,’ Gray sighed, ‘this is not real.’

‘Of course it’s real. All of it’s real. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever you’re seeing, it’s real. It comes from in there.’ He pointed at Gray’s head. ‘It comes from in there.’ He pointed at his heart. ‘Just takes little keys to unlock it, little keys like E and booze. So’ – he turned sharply so that he was inches from Kirsty’s face – ‘I’m asking you now, Kirsty, I’m asking you: what’s going on? Huh?’

Gray got to his feet and pulled Kirsty up to hers. ‘Really, not the time, not the place, mate. I’m taking her home, OK?’

Mark grabbed at Kirsty’s arm and brought her back down on to the grass. She landed on her bottom with a hard thump.

Gray pushed down on Mark’s shoulders and said, ‘Get the fuck off her!’

He began to pull Kirsty back up again and Mark suddenly threw himself at Gray’s legs, pulling him down into the grass, half on top of him. Gray’s upper body hit Kirsty who cried out in pain and he pulled himself up and struck out at Mark, who caught his fist in his hand and gripped it. With his other arm Mark dragged Kirsty towards him and held her around the neck in the crook of his arm. Gray pulled at Kirsty’s arms, but this just tightened Mark’s hold around her throat, so he took hold of Mark’s wrist and attempted to pull his arm away. Mark kicked out with the heel
of his right foot and slammed it between Gray’s legs, narrowly missing his balls. Gray rolled backwards and then came back up to sitting again, about to launch another attack on Mark, and stopping as the silver of a flick-knife caught the moonlight.

It was at Kirsty’s throat. Mark was panting. His eyes were wide and he licked his lips.