Shut Your Eyes (The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 3) Page 4

  ‘So, that’s it then,’ I summarise, watching him go. ‘Me and Lucy are free agents.’

  ‘Both of you?’ Mum asks, picking up her cup and saucer.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘They’ve both dumped both of you?’

  I gaze out of the French windows. It’s begun to rain. I really should have brought an umbrella.

  ‘Yes.’

  She leans forward, grimacing, as if she’s just drunk ditch water.

  ‘But why?’

  ‘It’s personal, Mum.’

  ‘It’s because of this place,’ she decides quickly. ‘That’s it. It’s because you’re from here, and he can’t stand the memories.’

  I shake my head. ‘It’s nothing to do with that.’

  ‘So, what is it?’ Her lips are wobbling now. ‘I thought you’d found the one. I thought you were going to get married. I thought … Oh, I don’t know what I thought.’

  She waves the teacup in front of her face, and begins to cry. Oh great. That’s all I need. I thought she’d opt for righteous indignation. I never expected tears.

  ‘Mum, it didn’t work out, that’s all. You know what it’s like.’

  ‘No.’ She shakes her head. ‘I don’t know. Roger … Roger was the only one. How can it not work out?’

  ‘It just didn’t.’

  ‘And I thought he was such a lovely boy. I can’t believe it.’ Putting down her cup and saucer, she wipes her eyes. Her face clouds. She’s obviously moving on to anger. ‘If I could get my hands on him, I’d …’ She bites her lip. ‘I’d rip his bloody testicles off. He’s an idiot. He’s lost the best thing he’s ever found.’ She waves a finger. ‘I know he’s poorly and he’s in hospital, and you shouldn’t speak ill of the …’

  ‘He’s not dead,’ I interrupt.

  ‘I know that, but he’s not worth it, Maya. That’s what you’ve got to remember. It’s not you. It’s him.’

  I cross my arms and stare at the tea tray, biting back a little anger of my own. It’s not him at all. And he is worth it. And one day I’ll be able to explain. Suddenly, I’m gripped by a need to defend the man I love. It’s a good thing Dad appears in the doorway, clutching a biscuit tin.

  ‘Roger, Dan’s finished with Maya.’

  ‘And Clive’s finished with Lucy,’ I add.

  ‘Has he? Oh.’ And that’s it from Dad. Lowering himself back into his armchair, he opens the tin. ‘Ginger nuts, malted milks, bourbons and custard creams. No digestives.’

  ‘Your daughter’s life’s falling apart and all you can think about is biscuits?’

  ‘Well, you’ve got to go on eating.’

  He offers the tin to me. I wave it away.

  ‘Explain,’ Mum orders. ‘Explain why he’s dumped her.’

  Dad’s eyebrows wiggle. ‘How can I explain?’

  ‘Well, you’re a man, aren’t you? You should know what goes on in men’s brains.’

  ‘I’m not so sure about that.’ He helps himself to a custard cream. ‘You trained it all out of me.’

  He’s about to get a good verbal mauling from Mum when the phone rings.

  ‘That’ll be for you, Audrey,’ he says. ‘The daily call. Pam from the reading circle.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ Rising to her feet, Mum stomps into the hallway, answers the phone and launches into a muffled rant.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Dad asks, biting into his biscuit.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘If there’s anything I can help you with …’

  ‘I don’t need any help, Dad.’

  He doesn’t seem convinced.

  ‘You’re still my little girl. If you need anything …’

  ‘Honestly, I’m alright.’

  He pops the rest of the biscuit into his mouth and chews thoughtfully.

  ‘It’s a shame,’ he says at last. ‘I liked him, I really did. I suppose it just wasn’t to be.’ He rummages through the tin and pulls out a bourbon. ‘You’ll find someone else. Don’t worry. But you deserve the best, Maya. Remember that. Someone who can give you everything you need.’

  ‘I don’t need much.’

  ‘Love, respect and friendship. Everyone needs that.’

  ‘Have you heard from Sara?’ I ask, eager to change the subject.

  ‘She’s losing her house, moving in with us for a while.’

  My mouth falls open. I knew it was difficult for Sara, but I didn’t know things had got this bad. I have no idea how Mum and Dad are going to cope with my sister and her feral boys.

  ‘That’s going to be interesting.’

  ‘It’ll be a bloody nightmare,’ Dad grins. ‘Temporary though. She’s moving back to Limmingham, looking for a job, and then she’ll rent. The kids are going to use your old bedroom.’

  ‘Well, I’m not going to need it.’

  ‘Staying in London then?’

  ‘Of course.’

  He bites into the bourbon and pulls a face, probably because he’s never understood why I went to live in the capital. As far as he’s concerned, it’s full of ne’er-do-wells.

  The telephone receiver’s slammed down.

  ‘Oh, here she comes. Have a biscuit. You’re getting skinny.’

  He thrusts the tin at me again. This time, I help myself to a malted milk and stare at it.

  ‘Bloody Pam,’ Mum almost spits. ‘Going on about bloody books.’

  Through a mouthful of bourbon, Dad gives out a sigh.

  ‘She runs a reading circle, Audrey.’

  ‘Well, there’s no need to go on about bloody books at a time like this. We’ve got real life going on here. Oh, Maya.’ She clasps her hands to her chest. ‘You haven’t got a job. You gave up your job.’

  ‘I’m an artist, Mum. That’s my job.’

  ‘How can it be a job? What about security?’

  I suppose I could tell her about the ridiculous sum of money that’s recently landed in my bank account. That’s security enough.

  ‘I’ve sold another picture. I’ve got enough to keep me going. I need to focus on painting. I need to take a chance.’

  Mum’s face puckers.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ I add quickly, before she can tell me that my painting’s never going to amount to anything. ‘I’m meeting someone. A friend.’

  While Mum eyes me with more than a good dose of suspicion, I collect my handbag and make for the door.

  ‘I’ll see you soon.’

  The rain hits me as soon as I step outside. Retreating just long enough to borrow an umbrella, I finally head off, relieved to escape my parents’ attentions.

  I choose the coast route this time, emerging onto the main stretch, crossing the road and following a cliff-top path down the hill, past the crazy golf course, bowling green and ornamental gardens, towards the centre of town. When I reach the first building, I pause. Holding the umbrella in one hand and grabbing the steel railings with the other, I look out over the North Sea. It’s overwhelmingly grey beneath a darkening horizon. An endless mass of cloud rolls in, dragging the rain in its wake, but none of this seems to have dampened the spirits of the August holidaymakers. The beaches below are still busy with people sheltering from the showers beneath umbrellas, coats and beach tents. I smile at the grit of the British, determined to make the most of it, come what may.

  ‘Penny for them?’

  Jolted out of my reverie, I turn to find Layla standing by my side.

  ‘They’re not worth that much.’ I’m transported back to Dan’s kitchen garden, to the softness in his blue eyes when he asked me the very same question … and I gave the very same reply. I shake the memory out of my head. I’ve got to think straight. I can’t afford to be distracted. ‘How are you doing?’

  ‘Not bad.’

  Gripping her own umbrella, she stands fixed to the spot, clearly unsure of what to do next. It’s up to me to give a little reassurance. Stepping forward and angling my umbrella to one side, I give her a one-armed hug.

  ‘Shall we walk?’ I ask.r />
  ‘Why not?’

  In silence, we take the slip road down to the promenade and walk southwards, past shops and arcades and cafés, all of them busy. I have no idea what Layla’s thinking about as we move on, but I’m wondering exactly how to give her my news … and I’m dreading her reaction. By the time we reach the pier, the rain has stopped, and both of us have closed our umbrellas.

  ‘Let’s grab a bench.’ I nod towards the Victorian hotels and flats that line the top of the cliff. ‘How about up there?’

  With a nod, Layla gives her agreement. We climb a steep, winding path back up to the top of the cliffs, and find a bench overlooking the sea.

  ‘Prepared for everything.’ Opening her handbag, Layla pulls out a tissue and wipes the seat. ‘You don’t want a wet bum.’

  ‘Certainly not.’

  I settle myself next to her, arranging my handbag and umbrella on the bench, and the thoughts in my head. I glance up at the sky where the clouds have parted now, albeit temporarily. And then I gaze out to sea again. Ever-changing under a restless sky, it’s mutated into an olive green-grey, streaked with strips of deep blue.

  ‘Oh, look at that.’ Layla points to the right, where a rainbow’s kicked into life above the cliffs. ‘Make a wish.’

  I wish for this to be easy.

  ‘Happy families,’ she observes, turning her attention to the beach. The promise of a tiny scrap of sun has lured the crowds back out of the cafés and beach huts. Already there are children paddling, making sandcastles, kicking balls about on the sand. ‘I often wonder what goes on behind closed doors when I see people like this.’

  ‘That’s pretty cynical.’

  ‘Is it any surprise? My dad was good at putting on an act in public, but once we got home …’ She shakes her head. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t go on about him.’

  ‘Why not?’

  We slip back into silence for a moment or two. A seagull wheels through the air in front of us, in search of a lunchtime chip.

  ‘There are plenty of normal, happy families out there,’ I press on, determined to be positive. ‘You’ve got one of your own now.’

  She smiles. ‘Yes. But I’m determined. My kids are getting the best upbringing I can provide. All the love and care and attention. It’s the best way to undo the past: break the cycle. But I suppose it’s not always that easy.’

  She’s thinking about her brother. I know it. And even though we’re fast approaching the inevitable, I’d like to put it off for a little longer.

  ‘How’s Sophie?’ I ask.

  ‘Starting chemo. I’m going over to visit next weekend. Should be interesting. We’ve talked on the phone, but I haven’t seen her since she moved to Wales. She’s talking about moving back to Limmingham. I think she’s finding it hard on her own out there.’ She pauses before going on, tentatively. ‘And Dan?’

  I clasp my hands together and say nothing. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see we’ve been joined by my shadow from the ticket queue. He lights up a cigarette, leans against the railings and stares at the pier.

  ‘I’m so sorry about what happened, Maya. I wasn’t thinking.’

  ‘There’s no need to apologise.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have turned up like that. Did you sort it out with him?’

  I falter, fiddle with the umbrella. The moment has finally arrived.

  ‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ I begin, searching for exactly the right words and finding nothing particularly helpful. ‘He’s had an accident.’

  Too blunt, by far. I watch as shock takes hold of her face. Lips part and eyes widen. Before she panics, I need to allay her fears. Speaking quickly, I fill her in on what happened, tell her there’s no need to worry, reassure her that her brother’s alright. For all I know, I could be talking complete and utter bollocks, because the truth is I have no idea how he is at the minute. I’m simply working on assumptions. The shock seems to deepen. It’s joined by confusion, along with a good dash of anger, and I know exactly why that’s arrived.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I just couldn’t … I should have called you. I know that.’ And I also know I’m babbling. ‘He’s your brother and you had a right to know, but after what happened, I thought I should get his permission first, but he was unconscious and I had to wait, and I thought you had enough to deal with.’

  ‘It’s okay.’

  ‘It’s not, Layla. But I was caught between a rock and a hard place.’

  She shakes her head.

  ‘It’s alright. I understand.’ Reaching into her handbag, she pulls out a fresh tissue and wipes her eyes. ‘But he’s alright now?’

  ‘On the mend. Past the worst of it. It’s just broken bones. He’ll be fine. He’s still in hospital …’

  Absent-mindedly, she taps her umbrella.

  ‘I should send him a card … so he knows I care.’

  ‘No. Listen to me. This isn’t a good time for you to make contact. You need to be patient.’

  ‘You’re right. What am I thinking of? If I send him a card, it’ll only end up in the bin.’

  And now, out of nowhere, I’m angry with Dan. For the life of me, I can’t work out why he won’t face his sister. She’s just about the nicest person I’ve ever met and as far as I know, she’s never done anything to merit his contempt. I swallow back the irritation, reminding myself I have no right to be angry. After all, I’m not in possession of all the facts.

  ‘I could give it to you,’ Layla suggests. ‘You could wait for the right time.’

  I shake my head.

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘We’ve split up.’

  She stares at me, perplexed.

  ‘He finished with me,’ I explain. ‘Because of what happened. Because I got in touch with you. When he woke up, he put an end to it.’

  ‘Oh God.’ She raises a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh no, Maya. What have I done?’ The poor woman. If it’s not bad enough that her brother’s in hospital and his relationship’s apparently in tatters, she’s now convinced the entire mess is her fault. ‘I only wanted to make things better … for all of us. We all feel like there’s something missing. I know we do. Something here.’ She touches her chest and drifts into thought. ‘That bastard.’

  For a split second, I think she’s referring to Dan, but then she pulls a photo out of her handbag.

  ‘He caused a lot of pain.’

  She hands it to me. A picture of a man. Thick-set, dark-haired and bleary-eyed, he’s smiling at the camera … but I can see the cruelty in his eyes.

  ‘My dad. You see the resemblance?’

  It’s obvious. While she has the same bright blue eyes as Dan, the rest of her features are clearly influenced by her father.

  ‘Two peas in a pod,’ I murmur, without thinking. ‘No wonder Dan lost it.’

  She blinks at my words, and I wish I could take them back.

  ‘Why?’ she whispers. ‘That’s all I ever wanted to know. Why did he treat us that way? Why was he such a pig? I never got the chance to find out. None of us did. I should have talked to him in those last few weeks. He was different then.’

  ‘Different?’

  ‘Quiet … miserable. You could almost see the shame in his eyes.’

  ‘He was dying.’

  ‘I don’t think it was that. He changed after he got beaten up. He said he didn’t know who’d done it, but I think he did. I think he finally realised he was a low life piece of shit. I should have made the most of it.’ She becomes silent for a minute. ‘It doesn’t matter now, does it? He caused all that pain, fucked everything up, and now I’ve fucked it up even more. I’m sorry.’

  Tears well in her eyes. I search through my handbag for more tissues and hand them to her, knowing exactly what’s going to happen next. My brain’s just flicked the ‘fuck-it’ switch and my mouth’s planning on letting me down in style. I’m losing the will to deceive, because it’s exhausting. And besides, I can practically see the
guilt gnawing away at my companion. If I leave her like this, she’ll only end up jumping on a train to London and ambushing her brother. I need to take a leap of faith and put her lifeline back in place. Hopefully, she’ll believe me, find some comfort from the fact that nothing’s ruined, and maybe discover a little patience. Whichever way it goes, I feel like I’ve got no choice.

  ‘Okay.’ Leaning in to her, I speak out of the corner of my mouth. ‘I’m going to tell you something very strange now.’

  She blows her nose, suppresses a sob and narrows her eyes.

  ‘I don’t want you to say a word,’ I warn her. ‘And I don’t want you to react. I want you to just carry on as if you’re upset. Do you understand?’

  She frowns.

  ‘I mean it, Layla. I’m not supposed to be telling you this. You’re going to think I’m mad, but I’m not, and this is the truth. So just listen and say nothing. I’ve not really split up with Dan. It’s only temporary and it’s all an act.’

  Leaving out my sister’s involvement, and Jodie’s too, I tell her almost everything, from Boyd tracing me, through his surprise appearances, to what he did to Dan. I give her a moment to let it all sink in before I explain the upshot of it all.

  ‘Boyd’s told Dan to stay away from me. If we see each other, if we go to the police, he’ll do something else. Don’t worry, you’re perfectly safe,’ I lie, noticing the alarm in her eyes. ‘He’s only after me and Dan. We don’t know what he’s capable of, so we have no choice at the minute. We have to go along with it. So, officially, we’ve split up. Dan’s ended it. And we need to make everyone believe that.’

  ‘Have you been drinking?’ she asks, goggle-eyed.

  ‘I wish.’ I fix her with a resolute stare. ‘I’m not mad and I’m totally sober. This man tried to kill your brother. It’s important you tell no one. I’m not supposed to talk about it, but you need the truth. And now I’ve given it to you, you need to keep it safe.’

  She’s still not convinced, and I could do with some proof. I look around. Thankfully, my shadow’s still leaning against the railings.