Virtually Perfect (42 page)

'...Maman?'

Eve's eyes flicked down the corridor.

He peered up at her accusingly, from beneath a mass of blonde curls.  His nappy bulged beneath his Superman pyjamas.

He removed his thumb from his mouth momentarily.

'Où est maman?' he blurted suspiciously, cuddling his toy duck.

Eve looked to Ben.  He forced a grin back to Tristian. 

'Elle est dans la cuisine!'

Eve closed her eyes.

...Oh God!

'That's my sister, Monique,' Ben whispered in her ear.  'I think you've already met.'

Eve nodded, eyes shut tight; mortified.

'Aller la trouver!' Ben boomed, smiling, clapping his hands.  'Go-go-go!'

The little boy giggled: a flash of white milk teeth.  He squeaked on his little toes, blonde curls bouncing off through the door of the lounge.

'I don't know what it is about kids' stories.' said Cara.  'They always make me doze off.'

She attempted a surreptitious drag of her cigarette, gawking down at the floor.

'...Oh sweetheart!' she gasped at Eve.  '...What you done to your feet?'

Eve looked down.  There was blood.  It was everywhere - smeared all over the varnished oak plinths of the corridor, a trail of blots leading across the cream lounge carpet.

She looked up at Ben.  He started to twinkle.

'Oh God!'

Oh shit!  ...Oh no, please!  Oh not now...

'I'm so sor...'

The colour had drained from her face.  He saw her going.  He only just caught her time.

Ben gazed down at the crescents of sooty eyelashes.  She felt light - much lighter than last time.

'Eve?  ...Eve!'

....
Fuck!  What have I done? 

Her head rolled back, her neck arching deeply, the pearl choker tight around her throat.  She made a horrible noise as she breathed in.  His startled eyes flicked to Cara.

...Help!

'Bring her in here!' she said quickly, shuffling to the lounge.  'Put her on the sofa!  ...Poor little love.'

Eve awoke with a jolt, pulling a face, pushing the little amber glass vial from under her nose.  Cara smiled to herself, screwing on the stopper, slipping it back into her handbag. 

Eve's eyes met Ben's, saw the look of concern.  She turned to Monique.

'...I'm so sorry,' she murmured.

'It's OK!' Monique grinned, running a hand through her blonde hair.  'Don't worry!'

Eve could see it now.  The eyes, the nose, the dented chin.  How could she have missed it before?

Monique punched her brother's shoulder.

'Je t'ai dit, imbécile!  Tu devriez avoir eu la conversation!'

'...Nous avons eu la conversation!' muttered Ben, rubbing his shoulder, scowling back.

'Oui
, mon oncle Benjamin,' piped up Tristian.  'Imbécile!'

The little boy's laughter filled the room.  Ben paused for a moment, then smiled, reaching across and ruffling Tristian's hair.  His eyes flicked guiltily back to Eve.

'Would you like a cup of tea?' Monique asked her.

'No, thank you,' Eve replied, glancing down. 

She stared down at her perfectly bandaged feet. 

...How long have I been out?
 

She wiped the spittle from the corner of her mouth, her eyes following the multicoloured trail of towels, out to the hallway, all the way to the front door.

'You've got some nasty cuts,' tutted Cara.  'Looks like glass to me.  I don't think there's anything left in there, but one of them's ever so deep.  You ought to go up to the 'ospital, I think it might need a stitch...  Ben'll take you, won't you Ben?'

Cara peered across at her son.  He nodded back quickly.

'Of course.'

Eve shook her head.

'I'll be fine, really.  I'm...  I'm so sorry for making a mess...  If you've got a sponge?...'

'Don't be silly,' Ben said flatly.

Eve looked back to Monique.

'I'm so sorry for spoiling your dinner.'

Cara sat on the sofa beside Eve; Monique, Ben and Tristian sitting on the floor, staring back across the coffee table.  Eve felt her chubby hand on her shoulder.

'Don't be daft love!  Stay an' 'ave some with us!  We're 'aving cottage pie...'

'...Oh no,' said Eve.  'I couldn't.  I really must be getting back...' 

'I'll give you a lift,' said Ben.

'It's OK,' Eve assured him.  'I can call a cab.'

'I will give you a lift,' he said impatiently, getting up. 

'Stick mine in the microwave,' he told Monique.  'I'll have it when I get back.'

Before Eve had chance to argue, he scooped her up, carrying her to the front door.

''Ere!  Take my slippers!' Cara shouted after them.

'Can you get that?' he said to Eve.  She reached out and twisted the handle.  'Don't worry about it, Mum,' Ben called back.  'I've got her shoes in the car.'

The front door slammed shut behind them.

Monique and Cara sat staring at it.

'Well?' said Monique.  'What do you think?'

Cara frowned after them.

'She ain't half got a gob on 'er...  What were they rowing about?'

Monique smiled at her mother.

'Ben says she thought I was Lydia.'  The two of them exchanged a look.  'She thought he was messing her around.'

'...Oh!' chuckled Cara.  'Oh, I see!' 

She looked back to the door. 

'Then I reckon...  she'll do just fine.'

'I'm so sorry about the mess,' said Eve, staring down at the blood smears on the white marble staircase, clinging to his shoulders as he carried her down.

'Stop apologising.'

'I can come back tomorrow and clean it up,' she said hopefully.

'That won't be necessary.'

'Hold on to me,' he said as they got outside, click-clacking down the damp steps. 

Eve's arms tensed around his neck, cold drizzle misting her face.  He kept one arm under the crook of her knees, the other fumbling in his pocket.  Eve heard the blip of the alarm.

'Can you get the door?'

The handle felt cold; slippery with raindrops.  Ben slid her into the passenger seat, gently clunking the door shut behind her.  Eve wiped her hand on her dress.

He paused before he started the engine.

'Are you sure I can't take you to the hospital?' he said without looking at her.

'I'm fine,' Eve assured him.  She glanced down at her feet; reached out grasping her toes, turning them and examining the soles.

There was no blood coming through.  The bandaging was faultless.

'Your mum did a really good job.'

'She ought to,' Ben told her.  'She was a registered nurse for forty years.'

He turned the key; switched the lights on.  They set off.

There was no radio tonight.  No chit-chat.  No laughing.  Just the rev of the engine, the intermittent whir of the wipers, the indicator tick-tocking.

Eve didn't know what to say - where to begin.  She stared out of her window, trying to think.  The lights from the bars, the restaurants; the pubs and clubs whirled past her.  She wished she lived further away.

He pulled up outside, grinding the ratchet of the handbrake.  Eve stifled a wince.  He never depressed the button. 

Ben turned off the lights and the engine, listening to the whir of the after run pump.  He turned to her, found pleading eyes glistening back.

'I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean it.'

He stared at her for what seemed like forever.

Ben ran his fingers through his hair, gazing into the cafe; peering into the shadows.

'Yes you did,' he said quietly. 

He turned to her again. 

'It's OK.  You were right.'

He twiddled his fingers in his lap.

'I
am
a fake,' said Ben, gazing down at them.  'Sometimes I don't even recognise myself anymore.  I am...
magnolia
.'

'No!  No you're not!  Oh Ben, I'm so sorry.  I... I
—'

'...God knows what Gramps would make of me now...  Eve, I was embarrassed to introduce you to my own mother.  What kind of man does that make me?'

'...I didn't mean to make a mess on the floor!'

He watched her rake her hair from her face. 

'I must look awful!' she flustered.  'The things I said!  Oh God, what must they th—'

'Not
you
, you wally!' he said, grinning.  '...No,' he sighed, closing his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as the smile fading.  'I was worried what
you
would think.  I was scared of Mum showing me up.'

'...Well everybody is!'

'No.  Not like that, Eve.'  He stared into her eyes.  'I was ashamed of her.  Embarrassed to introduce her to you...  What am I turning into?'

'How do you think I felt listening to Dad tonight?' Eve tried to reason.  'By the way, I haven't had an allowance since I was eighteen.  I don't know what he was banging on about, I'm not about to start taking one now...  And you've met my stepmother!  What have you got to be embarrassed about?'

'...Eve?'

'What?'

He stared back at her.

'That stuff I saw on the coffee table this morning...'

'...It wasn't mine.'

'...I hope not,' he said.  'I couldn't bear to think of you...  You know... doing that.'

'I didn't!  I wouldn't!  ...I don't!' she said, frantically shaking her head.

'You don't belong here,' he said.

Eve paused, mouth slightly agape, blinking back at him.

'...What?' she murmured.

'You had a good life in London,' Ben said flatly.  'You really ought to go back.'

'I don't want to.'

'You must have friends there?'

'I haven't.  Most of them moved away... got married—'

'You could get your old job back.'

Eve scoffed.

'Not likely!'

Ben sighed, folding his arms.

'Go and work for Christie's then.  Or Sotherby's.  There must be a hundred different auction houses to choose from.'

Curtis had stopped Ben in the Pavilion when he went back to look for her, glancing down at the stilettos dangling from Ben's fingers, drunkenly shrugging as Ben hid them behind his back.  He told Ben about the £10,000 Chinese pisspot.  That their profits had gone up by a third since she joined them.  That Eve was the was the best auctioneer he'd ever seen.

'Why would I want to go to London?' she frowned.  'I'm happy where I am.'

'Eve,' Ben said flatly.  'You're wasting your time.'

'...What do you mean?'

He looked her straight in the eye.

'There's nothing for you here.'

It felt like he'd just punched her.  Eve tried to swallow, blinking back, quickly looking away.

'I see,' she murmured, staring down at her white bandaged feet.  'Sorry, I—'

'Eve?'

'It's OK.  I understand.'

'Eve—'

'Could I have my shoes please?'

Her eyes scanned the interior of the car, seeing nothing.  They looked anywhere, but at him.

'Eve, I—'

She forced a brave smile, made herself look, just for a second.

'Please?'

Her voice cracked, gaze flickering away.  Her pain was palpable.  Ben could feel it ripping at his throat.

Eve closed her eyes as he leant over her seat, so close they were almost touching.  He fumbled around in the back.  Eve felt the cold leather as her fingers wrapped around her Blahniks; tried to hold the poker face as she forced her feet into them.

'Thank you.'

'Eve...'

He watched her scrape her loose hair from her face, dragging it around to the other side, away from him.

'I didn't sleep with him,' she said, collecting herself.

'Eve—'

'I mean, I slept with him, but—'

'For God's sake!' snapped Ben.  'Don't you get it?  It doesn't matter!  I... I really don't want to hear anymore.'

He sat there shaking his head, hand to his brow, blocking her gaze.

'Please,' he said quietly.  'Please... will you just go?'

Eve stared at him for a moment longer.  His hand slinked down, reaching for the key.  Ben stared out of the windscreen.  She heard the ignition, the engine rev, saw the lights come back on.