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Authors: Hazel Osmond

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The First Time I Saw Your Face (36 page)

BOOK: The First Time I Saw Your Face
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Would it hurt as much as this hurt now? Oh Matt, Matt, you were so lovely and I was so gullible. If she could only go to sleep and not wake up again.

She heard other voices outside the door.

‘Open the door, Jen, love. Now, Jen!’

She took her hand off the razor and drifted back towards the door, unable to work the bolt, but then managing it.

‘You were right, Mum,’ she said when she opened the door. ‘All the time you were right about him.’

Her mother put her arm around her and steered her back to the bedroom. ‘Let’s not talk about that now, love. That’s not important. Come on; have a little lie-down before Cress gets here.’

Jennifer let Brenda put her into bed and felt tiredness start to pull her down. ‘Cress is going to be so angry with me,’ she said.

‘Don’t be daft, nobody blames you, darling. It’s him we’re all angry with. So angry.’

‘How can you be?’ she said. ‘He doesn’t exist.’

CHAPTER 36

It was muggy in the room. Mack tried to open one of the sash windows, but his ribs hurt too much. Outside, grey houses faced him, uniform and dull, the Bath stone looking depressing under the clouds. He wished he was looking out on all those different shades of green.

Picking O’Dowd’s mobile out of his pocket took some effort and when he had, he went over yet again what his options were. Ignore O’Dowd and he’d print what he already had and throw him and his family to the wolves. Result: he’d have still lost Jennifer and shafted his family. Or, ring O’Dowd and confirm it was Rory. Result: he’d still have lost Jennifer, but his family would be off the hook.

He wasn’t even going to think about what Cressida Chartwell would to do to him when she found out. Correction, what her lawyers would do.

He got out his own mobile and tried Jennifer’s number again and the number of the farm. No reply. Had he really been expecting one?

He’d have to ring O’Dowd soon. What if someone spotted
Cressida flying into the country and O’Dowd rang, full of fury about why he was the last to know she was here?

He plonked both phones on the bookcase and limped over to the sofa. Lowering himself on to it, he worried away at what he should do, trying to tune out the throbbing in his ribs until it filtered through to his brain that someone down in the street was ringing the front doorbell.

That’s how it started this morning.

Nobody knew he was back. He waited for the ringing to stop, but it seemed to intensify and now he was sure he could hear banging too.

It’s Danny, he’s followed me here.

That thought should have scared him, but maybe if he was beaten senseless he couldn’t think about Jen. He moved tentatively out of his flat, catching sight of his puffed-up eye and massive lip in the mirror on the landing and clutched at the banisters as he went downstairs. Just before opening the front door he had the insane idea that it might be Jen herself out there. His heart bucked in his chest.

It was not Jen, or Danny, or anyone else from Northumberland. It was a man who appeared to be totally square and his delicately braided hair looked incongruous on top of all that bulk. Seconds later, Mack found himself lifted off his feet and was being hauled back up the stairs. The pain was so intense that he swore he could hear the front doorbell still ringing in his ears.

He must have looked like a cartoon, his legs a blur as
he struggled to keep up. In the flat he was deposited on the sofa and closed his eyes to cope with the pain. When he opened them again Cressida Chartwell was standing in front of him. She took off her sunglasses.

‘Pull the curtains and turn on the light please, Chuck,’ she said in that cut-glass, but somehow classless accent of hers. When Chuck had done as he was asked, she indicated the ladder-back chair, and it was placed a few feet from the sofa. Cressida sat in it and very politely told Chuck to make himself comfortable in the kitchen. She would call him if she needed him.

‘I want to start,’ she said, looking Mack straight in the face, ‘by telling you why Chuck is called Chuck when his real name isn’t even Charles. It is because when he finishes with people they look like chuck steak. This is no exaggeration. I hope you believe that?’

He nodded, although he was finding it hard to believe anything, particularly that this was not all some kind of hallucination brought on by his injuries. Cressida Chartwell was here in his living room. Hollywood had worked its magic on every inch of her – she smelt headily exotic; the suit she was wearing was pale and obviously expensive; her nails were buffed; her hair glossy; her shoes so delicate they would only just get her from red carpet to limo. An aura of languorous glamour hung about her as if she was some rare orchid. Except today she looked red-eyed and drawn, and Mack knew that this was probably down to him. Why was she here? Why hadn’t she gone straight to the farm?

‘I see that someone has already started teaching you a lesson, ratboy,’ she was saying, her calm delivery very, very disturbing. ‘You’ll have to forgive me if I seem a little slow to wade in myself. Jet lag, getting this news just as we landed: I’m making up my response to it as I go along, on the hoof as it were. But whatever I decide it will involve letting Chuck back in this room.’

He tried to disappear into the sofa, unable to think of anything other than how much he deserved this. He was pathetic. Scum of the earth. A lying, deceitful bastard.

‘You are pathetic, scum of the earth. A lying, deceitful bastard,’ Cressida said.

It sounded worse coming out of her mouth, each vowel and consonant given its proper weight. He wanted to shout ‘I know, I know’. What he tried to do was tell her why he’d even set out on this job in the first place.

‘Save it, not interested,’ she cut across him. ‘My concern is Jen and how to sort out this current mess. Of course I’d also like to crucify you afterwards, bring a case against you for, oh, I don’t know, obtaining pecuniary advantage by deception, breach of privacy … anything my lawyers can think of. I would go for you as much as someone who’s willing to pay anything can go for someone. I’d go for that bastard O’Dowd too and the bigger bastard who owns the paper – the lot.’

‘Luckily for you,’ her mouth did a little twisting motion, ‘that’s not going to happen. I have talked to Brenda and Ray on the way here. They’re adamant that it ends now. Can’t bear having Jennifer’s life paraded through the
courts for everyone to gawp at. So … regretfully, I have to concur with their wishes. Which just leaves me with damage limitation. I am going to keep Jennifer’s name out of this if it kills me. I’m presuming that although O’Dowd hasn’t rung me yet to gloat, this is going in tomorrow’s papers?’

She was on her feet, moving around the room, stopping now and again and then pacing on, and he was waiting for her to mention the words ‘injunction’ or even ‘super injunction’, but she suddenly stopped by the bookcase and snatched up one of the phones.

‘This the one you call O’Dowd on?’ When he nodded, she chucked it at him.

‘Ring him back. Tell him I’ll flesh out his story if he—’

‘He hasn’t got the story yet, well not the confirmed one,’ he said quickly. ‘I never rang him back after you talked to Jen yesterday.’

She shook her head as if she despaired of how stupid he must believe her to be. ‘You really think that’s going to save you, that dumb lie? You hit the jackpot yesterday afternoon and you’re still sitting on the news? I think not. Ring him back—’

‘Please believe me. I haven’t talked to him – I can show you the call register if you like.’ He fumbled with the phone. ‘O’Dowd wasn’t expecting any news till today. He doesn’t even know you’re in the UK, not unless someone else has—’

‘Liar,’ she screamed at him. ‘Coward. You’re just trying to save your skin.’ She came and stood in front of him
and he looked at her skirt because he was too ashamed to look at her face. He waited for her to hit him or push him, although her words were violent enough.

‘I should have checked you out,’ she stormed, jabbing her finger towards him. ‘I should have looked after Jen like she’s always looked after me. Too tied up in myself to do it … And to think I was grateful to you. Stupidly grateful because I loved the fact Jen had found someone who made her sound as if she was … back. I thought you were making her brave again, when all you’ve done is teach her if she
is
brave, she’ll get punished.’

He would not have been surprised if she’d spat at him, such was her anger.

‘Who could blame Jen if she finally decides the world’s too cruel to cope with on her own? And guess who’ll be waiting to carry her off on his bloody white charger?’

His face must have registered shock.

‘Oh, don’t give me that mock concern.’ Cressida clicked her fingers. ‘Safe life, safe man, safe marriage. All down to you. In a few years’ time she won’t even remember what she was capable of.’

As Cressida had been speaking he had struggled to keep control, but that sent him over the edge and he let go, his body bringing up great convulsive sobs that made his ribs ache even more. He should have felt embarrassed, but he felt nothing but hatred for himself and sorrow for Jen.

‘No, no,’ he spluttered, ‘you can’t let that happen. Not with Alex. Please, please believe me. I love her.’ He wiped his nose with his hand. ‘I didn’t want to do this job. Cross
my heart, O’Dowd had me right over a barrel—’

‘Shut up,’ Cressida snapped, ‘I don’t give a toss about you.’

‘I don’t give a toss about me either.’ He was almost wailing, rocking himself back and forth on the sofa. ‘I didn’t set out to do this damage. I thought I could just be her friend … I tried not to fall for her, make her fall for me … but …’

Cressida looked down her nose at him as he continued to cry.

‘You’re quite the actor,’ she said at one point, ‘I can see how you pulled this off.’ Without warning she swept down and gave him a mighty slap across the cheek. The shock made him close his eyes, and when he opened them she was running her fingers carefully over the palm of the hand she’d used to slap him.

‘Real tears,’ she said, ‘my, you are good.’ She continued watching him as he sniffed and snivelled before moving to open the door and call for Chuck. He feared she had lost patience and was going to have him beaten up, but she calmly asked Chuck to see if there were any paper towels in the kitchen. When he brought a roll, she threw it into Mack’s lap.

Next time he looked up she was at the window, tweaking the curtain back. Seemingly satisfied with what she saw, she resumed watching him.

As he blew his nose, he just caught her saying, ‘If you don’t stop crying, I will personally rip your tear ducts out myself. I have no idea exactly where they are located, but
I was thinking of going in via the groin …’ She moved towards him, and he flinched, but she was heading for the ladder-back chair again.

‘Before I ask you, yet again, to ring O’Dowd back, and yet again you lie and say you haven’t already coughed up your juicy little snippet, I’d like you to tell me one thing.’ Her eyes were as steady and probing as Brenda’s had been that day she had interrogated him on his doorstep. ‘When Jen told you about Rory, you’d got what you wanted. Why still get her up on that stage? You could just have slipped away without being missed.’

‘It was the only thing I could give her. I wanted her to feel like she was flying again. I … I just hoped she’d be able to remember that after everything else I’d had to do to her—’

‘There was no “had to” about it. Don’t try being mealy-mouthed with me, ratboy. You probably tore O’Dowd’s arm off to get this job.’

‘No, he made me do it, I tried to tell you—’

‘Ah yes, and up to now I’ve not been interested, but hey, guess what … take the floor, Mack Stone, let’s hear your explanation.’ She waved her arm at him as if introducing him to an audience.

‘It was my mother … he had some … some dirt on her … I had to do the job or he’d have published it.’ He had addressed the words to the carpet rather than her, knowing what reaction she would have. Sure enough she said sarcastically, ‘And no doubt, you’re going to tell me you can’t divulge what that dirt was? Conveniently.’

‘It’s a horrible secret,’ he said miserably. ‘If I tell you, I wouldn’t blame you for getting your own back and selling it the highest bidder. In the end I had to decide between destroying my family or …’

He knew Cressida would supply the missing words and waited for the vitriol, and possibly another slap.

Confusingly, she said, ‘Interesting body language there, ratboy.’ Before he could think what she meant, she went on, in a weird conversational tone, ‘So, you saw Jennifer act? She’s a good little actress, isn’t she? Not top-flight, but I think she’d have found regular work.’

He heard himself make a strange noise and then he was struggling up from the sofa, not caring about tear ducts or Chuck or cracked ribs. ‘Who are you kidding?’ he shouted at her. ‘She’s a bloody good actress, better than you. She was wonderful on that stage. She was Viola; hundreds of years after she was created, there she was.’

‘Well, you’ve got balls, at least,’ she said frowning, ‘or did you work out that you shouldn’t just agree with me because it would sound better if you defended Jen? I can’t make you out – those things you were doing with your body when you were talking about O’Dowd and your mother … fair bit of anguish there. Hard to fake, even if you were as good an actor as me …’ She pursed her lips and studied him. ‘So … what exactly do we have here?’

Bending forward, she placed both elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her hands. Now she was really scrutinising him and she reminded him of a clothed version
of
The Thinker
. What she was thinking about, though, he didn’t have a clue.

‘Films are so much easier than real life,’ she said, when she slowly unwound herself and sat up straight again. ‘You find someone has wronged you and your family; you hunt them down; do a little speech about retribution, and then –’ she made a little gun shape with her fingers and pointed at him – ‘you blow them away. Real life, however, is more complex.’ The gun was a hand again. ‘I could make some kind of deal with O’Dowd, get Chuck to give you a beating you won’t ever forget. But where does that leave Jen?’

BOOK: The First Time I Saw Your Face
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