The First Time I Saw Your Face (31 page)

‘I knew it, I knew it.’ Alex shook his head as though the whole world were stupid but him. ‘I knew it would be too much for you. You’re feeling overwhelmed, aren’t you?’ He was peering at her as if she was a failed experiment.

Jennifer did a quick moral calculation. Telling someone you were feeling wobbly when you weren’t was wrong.
Agreeing with Alex that she was overwhelmed and letting him take her home would only make him more clingy and convinced that she couldn’t cope without him. On the other hand, it would get her home quickly, and once he’d dropped her off she could get in her own car and set out to find Matt. That shouldn’t be too hard, they’d probably pass him on the road.

‘Well, I am a bit tired, Alex,’ she agreed, ‘not overwhelmed, exactly …’

Just as Alex led her away, she caught the look Doug gave her. It seemed to say ‘Do you think this is one of your better ideas, Jen?’

How bad an idea it was became apparent when they were in the car heading towards Brindley and Alex pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the engine.

His earlier solicitous tone had gone.

‘You must think I’m an idiot, Jennifer,’ he said. ‘First you race to the pub, then after your little tête-à-tête with Doug you’re suddenly desperate to go home. And now I can’t get a word out of you, you’re so busy peering out of the window. Who are you looking for, hmm?’ He slammed his hands on the steering wheel. ‘What’s going on between you and Harper?’

She reached up and flicked on the light hoping it would steady her. ‘I’m sorry?’ she said, now a stewing mass of guilt about lying to Alex and irritation that he was delaying her journey. There was anger there too at his assumption that he had a right to ask the question in the first place.

‘I’ll ask you again, what’s going on with that writer?’ Alex’s tone was more aggressive this time.

‘That’s really none of your business, Alex.’

‘I think it is.’ The way he was looking at her made her acutely aware how alone they were. ‘You don’t know the first thing about him and he’ll be gone soon. He’s just someone messing about with you, filling up his time whilst he’s here—’

‘Right,’ she said, undoing her seat belt. ‘I’m not listening to this. I appreciate you don’t like Matt, but I do. And why do you think he’s just filling up his time? What are you saying, Alex? That he couldn’t possibly, genuinely, like me back?’

‘No,’ he said quickly, ‘of course not. But he’s going to hurt you, Jennifer. When he goes.’ Suddenly he had undone his seat belt and had reached across and grabbed her wrist.

‘Listen to me,’ he said forcefully, ‘there’s something not straightforward about him. He comes across all nicey-nicey, but—’

‘Stop it, Alex. Stop smothering me.’ Although he still held her wrist tightly, she felt a retreat.

‘I’m not trying to smother you. I’m trying to protect you.’

‘Really?’ She shook her wrist free. ‘It doesn’t feel like it to me.’

He sat back in his seat, and she knew him well enough to understand he was trying not to lose his temper.

‘Look,’ she said, when he showed no signs of starting the car again, ‘I was wrong to lie to you back there—’

‘Yes you were. And you have no idea how much that hurts. I’ve done all the right things; cared for you and helped you and now you’re shoving me to one side.’

‘Alex, please, we’ve been through this. Before Matt even arrived we had that chat about us just being friends. I cannot feel about you the way you feel about me. I’m sorry.’ She paused. ‘You’re twisting this in your mind—’

‘Have you slept with him?’ The words thundered out into the car.

No, I haven’t slept with him, but I desperately, desperately want to.

Could she walk to Brindley if she got out now? The silence between them filled the car until there seemed little air left for her to breathe. She wound the window down, surprised at her own composure.

‘You have no right to ask that question, Alex,’ she said, thankful for the cold air on her face, ‘and I am certainly not going to answer it.’

Alex still wasn’t moving and she wondered if it was a question of who would weaken first. She went to open the door and Alex turned on her.

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He started the car, his truculence evident even in the way he turned the key in the ignition. ‘And put your seat belt back on. I know I’m good for nothing else, but at least I can stop you messing up everyone’s life even further by making that stupid, drunken mistake again.’

The shock of what he’d said to her felt like a blow. She expected to see him looking taken aback too, as if his
anger had run away with him, but he was staring ahead, his chin up, his mouth a downward curve.

She genuinely wanted to run for home now; too strung out to handle anything but being safe.

‘Drive me home, please,’ she said, and they were the only words she spoke until she got out of the car and said, ‘Goodbye.’

Mack came out of the ditch once Alex had driven off again. Why had they stopped? It looked like some kind of quarrel, and at one point it seemed as if Jennifer was trying to fight him off. If things had not calmed down Mack had determined to wrench open the car door and pull the bastard out.

Poor Jennifer.

Lovely Jennifer.

He was glad she was fighting with Alex and then he realised how selfish that was. When he was gone, she’d need Alex. That thought made him stop walking and stand with his head down until suddenly he was running to the bench. Stupid, really, he could get a signal here, he was certain, but it seemed natural to seek out Peter Clarke.

‘Any news?’ O’Dowd snapped.

‘Thanks for asking me how Opening Night went. Listen, need you to do something for me.’

‘Money?’

‘No. A footballer. Newcastle one preferably, other Premier League team if needs be.’ He paused. ‘Definitely not Sunderland.’

CHAPTER 30

Jennifer knew Matt wouldn’t come into the library today. She remembered how it used to be, the high of the performance followed by the overwhelming need to sleep far into the next morning. She would have welcomed a few hours longer in bed herself. After Alex had dropped her off, she’d taken to the red wine as if it could wash away that horrible scene in the car. Brenda had scooped her up and put her to bed in the end.

‘I know it’s hard for you, seeing them all acting,’ she’d said as she’d turned out the bedroom light.

No, Mum, what’s really hard is seeing the man you love strip off his shirt and knowing that you are no nearer to discovering what the skin underneath feels like on your lips.

There were some children messing about near the computers and she watched Sheila give them a sour look but say nothing. Jennifer suspected another Reece-related incident was occupying her thoughts. Yesterday he’d rung from Ibiza to tell her he’d got there safely, but already lost
his passport. It was not looking like a promising career move.

The phone on the desk rang.

Matt, it could be Matt.

It was Lisa – Lisa gabbling so fast Jennifer had to tell her to slow down.

‘OK, OK, but listen, Jen. I’m wafting about in my dressing gown early on when I look outside and there’s only Robbie Trentham.’

‘Robbie?’

‘Get a life, Jen. Striker for Newcastle. Lush beyond lush. Just standing there in my street, not even eight o’clock, looking under the bonnet of his car. Next thing he’s coming up the front steps. Bloody Dad gets to the door before me, but I’m not far behind, sucking in me belly, pushing my puppies out … I mean, I haven’t got a trace of slap on. Says he’s got some strange knocking under his bonnet, managed to get the car to Dad’s garage, found it shut, asked around, got sent here. Could Dad have a look? Bless him, he sounded really nervous.’

Jennifer heard Lisa breathe in and then she was off again.

‘Dad’s like, “Wow, can I have a look at a Ferrari? Yes, I can.” Anyway, while he’s doing that I ask Robbie does he want some coffee? And get this, Jen, we chatted on like anything. When Dad came back, said he couldn’t find anything wrong. Robbie suggested we took it for a longer drive, so I ran upstairs, just chucked something on …’

Jennifer doubted that.

‘… twenty minutes later we’re haring down the A1.’

‘That’s incredible. So where did he take you?’

‘Leeds. Yeah, just booking into this hotel. Lots of smoked glass, there’s this big piano—’

‘No, wait, what? Lisa, you have to be back for six-thirty this evening, seven at the latest. Lisa? Lisa? Don’t do this.’

Lisa’s voice was surprisingly firm. ‘Listen to yourself. I’m booking into a hotel with Robbie Trentham. Come on, when am I ever going to get another chance like this? It’s fate: he’d normally be training, but he’s got a groin strain.’ There was an earthy laugh. ‘Tell Finlay for me, will you, Jen? And remember, keep your chin up and don’t take any crap from Jocelyn about that costume hanging off you.’

With a sudden jolt, Jennifer realised what Lisa meant.

‘No, Lisa, come back …’

Jennifer felt Sheila remove the phone from her hand and replace it on the desk.

‘I … I,’ Jennifer said, starting to feel paralysed by the dawning realisation of what was likely to happen now.

Sheila nodded, ‘Aye, aye indeed. Do I gather Lisa’s not going to make the performance tonight?’

Jennifer nodded.

‘Well, I’ve bought tickets. Lucky you’re the understudy.’

‘No, no, I’m not.’ Had she shouted that?

‘Why not? You’re the prompt, aren’t you, must know it by heart. And didn’t you say you’d done it at school? Done it at Manchester? I bet you more or less know all the words.’ Sheila was warming to the idea. ‘Yeah, you’ll have to do it, like in those films … the show must go on and the understudy saves the day.’

‘This isn’t a film, it’s real life!’ Jennifer knew this time she had shouted, the hysteria rising in her throat.

A man in the World War Two history section turned round and shushed her.

‘Oh shush your ruddy self,’ Sheila yelled back.

Mack waited for the doorbell to ring and knew he ought to go and pack his bags: whether this worked or whether it didn’t, he’d be out of here tonight. Although what was there to pack? Not his walking stuff, not his terrible jeans. Let them all stay here and rot. He didn’t want anything to remind him of this job when it was over.

He was going to shed Matt Harper like a skin. Trouble was, he wasn’t certain there was anything underneath that skin any more.

The ring on the bell finally came at ten minutes past twelve and he wondered which person in a panic it would be.

It was Doug, barely comprehensible, and Mack had to act amazed at his news. Everyone felt Jennifer was the obvious choice to take over, but she was adamant she wasn’t doing it. Would Matt come and talk to her?

Mack had suspected that, offered the part on a plate, Jennifer would initially push it away.

‘Finlay will persuade her,’ he said, getting his fleece off the back of the chair.

Doug didn’t look particularly optimistic.

The changing room was crowded when they arrived and somebody had moved the screens against the wall to
make more space. The only person missing was Jennifer. The empty seat between Neale and Finlay was, he presumed, where she had been sitting.

‘Here comes the cavalry,’ Angus said.

‘We were just discussing our options,’ Finlay explained. ‘Jennifer feels she cannot take over from Lisa and we must respect that decision. I might be able to persuade one of my sixth-form drama students to read the part, or we bite the bullet and cancel.’

You are not cancelling this. She has to do this. If I don’t give her this, what else am I going to leave her with?

The room was noisy now, people talking across each other, and Mack could tell opinion was roughly divided into two camps: those who felt Jennifer shouldn’t have been put in this position, and those who thought that, really, why couldn’t she have a go?

Had anyone voiced that last opinion? Was that why Jennifer’s chair was empty?

‘I hope no one has upset Jennifer?’ He looked directly at Jocelyn for that last bit.

‘No, no,’ Finlay said. ‘We’ve all been very gentle with her, Matt. She’s outside taking a phone call.’

He pushed his way from the room and went outside as quickly as he could without running. He listened. She was round the back of the hall.

Jennifer had been thankful Brenda’s mobile had rung when it did and gave her an excuse to get away from all those eyes. People were being kind, but she was sure that would
change if they voted to cancel the last performance. Everyone would forget then that this was all down to Lisa, not her. She thought again about the possibility of actually getting on that stage. No, she still wanted to throw up and run away, or even run away and then throw up. This was one thing on which she had to stand firm, not try to please anyone but herself.

She leaned against the back wall of the hall and rang the number showing on the register of missed calls. It would be Cress, who else? She imagined her sitting up in bed in the dark of a New Mexico night.

‘Jen, listen,’ Cress said as soon as she answered, ‘I know I said I wouldn’t be in touch again till tomorrow … your tomorrow … but Brenda’s just rung to tell me Lisa’s on heat …’

‘Ah.’ Jennifer waited for yet another person to try to persuade her to get up on that stage. But Cressida wasn’t saying anything.

‘Are you still there?’ Jennifer asked.

‘I am, just thinking what to say to you …’

‘Forget about me,’ Jennifer said quickly, ‘you don’t sound right. Is it just because you’ve been woken up … or has something else happened?’

There was another long period of silence before Cressida said wearily, ‘Jen, I told you … I’ll explain it all tomorrow when I see you—’

‘When you see me? Cress—’

‘Just listen, Jen. This is serious. My life is about to go down the tubes and America’s going to chew me up and
spit me out; I don’t know if I’ll even be allowed to finish this film. But sod it. I’ve given into temptation and it’s only a matter of days before somebody twigs what’s going on. Oh Jen, I’m as scared as hell, but absolutely, absolutely walking on air.’