The Judas Tree, page 13
‘Is everything all right?’ Will asked, trying to keep his voice light.
‘What are you hiding?’
‘Nothing.’ He dropped his hands from the door handle. ‘I’m just going to clean my teeth and then I’m going to bed. I’m not feeling very well.’
‘You’re hiding something, William. Don’t you lie to me. If you lie it will only make things worse.’
Will swallowed, his stomach churning. What should he do? Lie? Or tell the truth? If he lied, and his father subsequently discovered Socks, he’d turn apoplectic. ‘My cat,’ he stammered. ‘She was so cold. I bought her in to warm her up.’
His father stared at him as if he was speaking a foreign language.
‘Her water was frozen solid.’
Then without a word his father pushed past him and opened the door. Will ducked in front of him, putting himself between his father and the cat, who was sitting on the bed, licking her paw and cleaning herself.
His father turned fiery eyes on Will. ‘What the hell is that animal doing up here?’
‘She was cold!’ Will stood in front of his father and opened his arms wide to protect her, but his father pushed him aside and grabbed Socks by the scruff of her neck. He held her up, pushed her towards Will’s face aggressively. She squirmed in his grasp.
‘I will ask again. What is this animal doing in my house?’
Will tried to speak but his voice failed him.
‘Answer me, you idiot! I asked you a bloody question!’
Will watched his father’s hand slowly squeeze the cat. Socks screeched.
‘Stop it!’ Will shouted. ‘You’re hurting her. It was freezing in the shed! I didn’t want her to be cold. Please stop. You’re hurting her.’
‘You shouldn’t have brought it in!’
His mother appeared at the door. ‘Philip?’ Will watched her face take in the scene, shock replaced by a calm intake of breath.
‘I told him not to bring this bag of fleas into my house!’ With each word his father shook the cat, who writhed in his hands, the whites of her eyes showing.
‘I’m sorry! I didn’t—’
‘It’s all right.’ His mother interrupted Will’s pleading. ‘William’s sorry.’
Will looked at her in panic and she widened her eyes, trying to communicate, nodding with purpose. ‘Aren’t you, William?’ She continued to nod at him slowly. ‘You’re sorry and you’ll take the cat back to the shed straight away.’
Will shook his head. ‘But it’s too—’
‘Won’t you, William?’ Her voice barked with a level of sharpness he seldom heard. She stared hard at him, willing him to take her lead. ‘We all know it’s best that cats live outside.’
Will glanced at his father. Thankfully, he’d finally stopped shaking Socks, who now hung in his grip like a rag doll.
‘I’m sorry,’ Will whispered. ‘I shouldn’t have brought her in. Please, please don’t hurt her.’
His mother walked over to his father and held her hands out. ‘I’ll take the cat, Philip.’
‘It needs to go. First thing tomorrow. If not – if I find out it’s here – I swear to God, I’ll put it in a bag and drown the thing.’
His father pushed Socks towards his mother, who took hold of her and cradled her gently, thumb stroking the soft fur behind her ear.
‘Get rid of it.’
As soon as his father had left the room, Will looked at his mother and pleaded with her. ‘Please don’t let him send her away. I love her.’
‘Then you should have left her in the shed.’
‘But—’
‘There are no buts, Will. If she stays, he’ll drown her. He wasn’t joking. Do you want that?’
Will didn’t answer, instead he stared at Socks, who had started to purr, eyes closed, chin tilted up as his mother stroked her.
‘Where will you take her?’
‘There’s an animal shelter in Peterborough. Someone will give her a new home.’
‘They won’t love her like I do.’
‘Maybe not. But at least she’ll be safe.’ She turned away then and as she did so he saw she was crying.
It was the first time he’d ever seen her cry.
Will got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side to open the door for Frank. ‘Do you want me to sleep on the sofa tonight, Frank? I’m more than happy to.’
‘Bless you. I’m fine, though. I’ve got Pie to look after me.’
While Frank got ready for bed, Will heated some milk in a pan and made hot chocolate. He carried it upstairs and found Frank already in bed with Pie curled up and purring beside him.
‘Do you think he’ll be OK?’ Frank asked.
‘Yes,’ Will said gently, unsure if he should answer with such certainty when in all honesty he had no idea at all if Pinwheel was going to be all right. He placed the mug on the table beside the bed. ‘I think he’ll be fine. Probably being spoilt rotten by all those lovely veterinary nurses.’
Frank smiled gratefully and gently ran his hand along Pie’s back. The cat stretched his paws out in front of him and yawned happily. ‘Thank you, William. I’m in your debt.’
‘Of course you’re not. It was nothing.’
‘It wasn’t nothing. You were there for me tonight. I couldn’t have done that on my own.’
Will smiled. ‘You can call on me any time. Now try and get some sleep.’
As Will drove home he battled those memories of his father. Painful images of him shaking Socks. His cold and glassy eyes when he said he’d drown her. Will had never got over how close Socks had come to being killed and it was his fault. He’d known full well his father would go mad yet he still brought the cat inside. He made the wrong decision and it nearly cost her life.
The memory was a timely reminder; nothing was safe in his care.
Not a cat and certainly not a child.
Chapter Thirteen
Harmony watched the clock limp around to six to signal the end of another unproductive day. She leant forward and wearily turned off her computer then packed her papers into her bag in the vain hope she’d manage to get some work done later. Will hadn’t called since Tuesday evening. Before then he’d been calling every few hours. In the end she’d texted to ask him to give her a bit of space. She’d hesitated before sending it; she knew she couldn’t hide forever, but she was still so hurt, and struggling with fresh feelings of loss. She felt utterly betrayed by him.
‘See you tomorrow, Alice,’ she said to the department PA, who was cleaning her gold-rimmed glasses on the sleeve of her cardigan.
‘Will do. You make sure you try and get an early night tonight.’ She smiled kindly. ‘You look shattered.’
It wasn’t any wonder she looked shattered. She was currently trying to sleep in George’s begrudgingly vacated bed, surrounded by Lego constructions and Star Wars figures, which was nearly impossible with her mind racing the way it was. She couldn’t stay at Sophie’s for much longer.
She had to face Will.
As she walked down the stairwell and into the building’s reception area, she saw a man sitting on the sofa in the entrance lobby, reading a newspaper. As she neared him, he lowered the paper and smiled at her. Her heart skipped a beat.
It was Luke.
‘Oh my God, hello,’ she said, unable to conceal her surprise.
He stood up, still smiling broadly.
There was an awkward few moments during which she wondered if they were supposed to kiss or shake hands. In the end she did neither.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I had a meeting in Knightsbridge that finished early and it’s too late to go back to the office now, so I thought I’d pop in and say hello.’ He paused then smiled again. ‘It’s nice to see you.’
She blushed and glanced at the man behind the reception desk, who seemed oblivious to their exchange. ‘It’s nice to see you too.’ She furrowed her brow. ‘How did you know where I work?’
‘You told me. At lunch.’
‘Did I? I don’t recall. But how did you know I was here today? Sometimes I work from home or have meetings off-site.’
‘Well, I decided to pop in on the off-chance. Then I asked this gentleman if you were in today and he rang up to your office and was told you were just leaving,’ he said with wry amusement. ‘It’s no more sinister that that; you don’t have to look so worried. The cab drove past Imperial on my way to the meeting and I remembered you worked opposite and thought it might be nice to go for a drink.’
She tried to smile.
‘So do you have to race home or can I steal you for a quick drink?’
‘I should get back.’
He leant closer to her. ‘I’d like you to come.’
She caught the smell of him, shampoo and a hint of aftershave, an unfamiliar washing powder, and her pulse quickened.
‘And it’s Friday tomorrow. Nearly the weekend. An after-work drink to celebrate?’
‘I’m staying at my sister’s. She’s expecting me back.’
‘Your sister’s?’
Harmony didn’t say anything.
‘Look, I’m here now. Just a quick drink? I’d like to talk about Will. He seemed uneasy when I came for supper. It would be good to have your take on why.’
She hesitated and looked at her watch. It was ten past six; it would be chaos at Sophie’s when she got there; the boys would be midway through eating, they’d be fighting, the television would be blaring, then Sophie would be battling to get them to do their homework, shouting as all three did their best to avoid doing it.
Luke saw her indecision and seemed to take that as a yes. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘There’s a great restaurant a few minutes’ walk away. It’s smart but very laid back. You’ll like it.’
‘You said a drink, not dinner.’
Luke laughed. ‘I did.’ He smiled and gestured for her to walk in front of him.
What are you doing? demanded the voice in her head as she followed him down the steps and onto Exhibition Road. Go back to Sophie’s, ring Will, sort your life out.
But she ignored the voice and walked with him. They didn’t talk. She was conscious of him glancing at her a couple of times. She wondered if the people they passed assumed they were together as he guided her through the crowds, close beside her, every now and then touching her shoulder. She turned to give him a casual, friendly smile to reassure herself she was doing nothing wrong. Just a drink with a friend of Will’s. Someone, perhaps, who could shed some light on his hang-ups and secrecy. Luke nodded and smiled back. A simple, easy smile. Nothing untoward at all.
‘Here we are,’ said Luke. The restaurant was on a side street and had a few tables set out on the pavement. Each table held a menu, a glass bottle of golden olive oil, and a small white bowl of sea salt.
Luke held open the door and allowed her to walk into the restaurant first. She knew of the place, but she had never been before. It was expensive – the haunt of minor celebrities, MPs and glamorous trust-fund-confident twenty-somethings – not for people like her. A waiter with jet-black hair and doleful eyes welcomed them, nodding his head in exaggerated hospitality, his greeting almost unintelligible beneath a thick Spanish accent.
The main restaurant was dark and cosy but steps at the far end led down to an airy conservatory-style bar area. The walls were covered in murals of curling vegetation and oversized flowers and exotic birds. Harmony was a button in a box of nails beside the animated men and women, talking and laughing, dressed in expensive clothes with glistening hair, a world away from her knee-length black skirt and ponytail secured neatly at the nape of her neck and make-up free face. The opulence unsettled her. She felt both insignificant and insecure. Though she and Will were more than comfortably off, and she was used to hanging out with Emma and Ian, wealth was still a foreign country to her. Somewhere to visit but not home. Before her mum died they’d lived in a cramped second-floor flat on the Park Green estate in Reading. Her abiding memory of the place was the threadbare carpet with its garish seventies pattern of black flowers on a red background. When their mother became too weak to get out of bed, she’d occasionally ask them to ‘tidy the carpet’, and the two girls would get down on their hands and knees and colour in any new patches of wear with black felt-tip pens.
‘I don’t see why we have to do this,’ Harmony once grumbled, as she lay flat on her tummy, legs kicked up behind her, searching for hessian strands to blacken. ‘I mean, it’s not as if anyone ever comes to visit. You’d think Princess Whatshername was coming for tea.’
‘Di,’ her sister said, as she concentrated on colouring.
‘Yes, her. Princess Di. She’s not coming though. Nobody comes. Only the nurse and I don’t think she’d care about the carpet.’
‘Mum’s dying, Harmony. She wants lots of things, like soup instead of beans on toast and three sugars in her tea. If she wants the carpet coloured in then that’s what we’ll do.’ She pointed at the floor beneath Harmony’s elbow. ‘You missed a bit.’
‘Table for two?’ the waiter asked Luke in his Spanish lilt.
‘We’re not eating,’ Luke said. ‘We’ve just come for a drink.’
‘Certainly, sir. Would you like to sit at the bar?’ He gestured to the other side of the room where there was a dark wood bar with mirrors behind and a row of empty leather stools.
Harmony asked the barman what white wines he had by the glass. He recommended a white Rioja with enthusiasm. She thought of Will, who wasn’t fond of Spanish whites.
‘That sounds lovely.’
‘And I’ll have a beer,’ Luke said.
They were quiet as the barman prepared their drinks. Harmony shifted in her seat, glancing up at Luke to give an embarrassed smile as she tried to think of something to talk about. The barman put their drinks and a dish of almonds on the bar in front of them.
‘Thank you,’ Luke said. Then he lifted his drink to her. ‘Cheers.’
Harmony clinked her glass against his. She noticed how long and slim his fingers were, his nails cut short and clean. They reminded her of her father’s fingers, or at least how her mother had described her father’s fingers – long and graceful like those of a concert pianist.
‘Your dad had the most beautiful hands,’ she heard her mother’s voice saying.
Luke smiled at her, his eyes burning through her to the point where she had to look away. As she did so, she noticed the woman on a table nearby staring at Luke while the man she was with stared at his newspaper. When she realised Harmony was looking she glanced away, the skin on the back of her neck reddening as she stirred her drink.
‘So are you and Will OK?’ he said, taking a small handful of almonds.
‘Will and I?’
He nodded and put an almond in his mouth.
‘Yes,’ she said, trying to keep her voice light. ‘Yes, of course. Why do you ask?’
‘Things were strained the other night, and just now you said you’re staying at your sister’s. There’s also something about you today. You seem …’ He hesitated. ‘Sad.’
Harmony was aware of her body tensing. She lifted her chin and shifted her weight on the stool. ‘That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with us. I’m staying with my sister for a few days; we’re close and I haven’t seen her for ages.’
‘I see. I’ve drawn the wrong conclusions. Forgive me.’
She was about to agree but something stopped her. She sighed. Maybe it would help to talk to this man. What did she have to lose? ‘No, you’re right.’ She picked at the edge of the scallop-edged drinks mat that sat beneath her wine glass. ‘We’re having problems. It’s been a difficult six months.’ She paused, glancing up at him. ‘I was pregnant, but we lost the baby. It’s hard to deal with for both of us for different reasons.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Losing a child is devastating, sadly I know what it feels like.’
‘You do?’
His expression closed down, clearly not wanting to explain further. ‘You and Will must be going through all sorts of emotions.’
A lump rose in her throat as she tried to push back the memory of Will saying he was relieved when their baby died. She dropped her eyes.
He touched her knee lightly. ‘Hey, it’s OK. Let’s not talk about this. It’s painful for both of us. Let’s talk about you, instead. You fascinate me.’
‘Me?’
‘I can’t stop thinking about you.’
Harmony looked over her shoulder, conscious they could be overheard. ‘Luke, I don’t—’
‘Do you ever get the feeling you’re supposed to be with someone? That it’s an imperative?’ He leant forward so his face was only a few inches from hers. ‘Because that’s how I feel about you. I can’t get you out of my head.’ His eyes dug into her. ‘I want to know what it feels like to fuck you.’
Harmony felt as if he’d shot her with his words.
She drew back from him, her heart pounding. Was he joking? Surely he was. But the look on his face was deadly serious. She was overwhelmed by the need to escape; any comfort she’d felt in his company had evaporated.
‘You can’t say that,’ she managed to say. ‘I’m married.’ She glanced again at the woman who’d been staring at Luke, but she was now occupied with her phone, the man she was with still absorbed by his paper. Harmony reached down for her bag. ‘You told me you wanted a drink.’ Her voice was shaky.
‘I wasn’t being entirely truthful.’
‘I’m married.’
‘But not happily.’
‘We are happy.’
‘You literally just told me you’re not.’
‘I have to go.’ Harmony stood, angry at his presumption, angry that she couldn’t snap back and tell him how wildly happy she and Will were. ‘I should never have come.’
Luke grabbed hold of her above the elbow.
‘Let go of me.’
‘I know you feel it too. You felt it that night at the party. And at lunch. At the way you reacted when you saw me on the sofa back then. I know it from the way you look at me and the way you act around me. I can read you like a book.’
