The Bridal Party, page 13
The blonde hair, the familiar features … It wasn’t Tamsyn in the back of the cart; she was in front, pulling it.
At last she reached them and set the cart down, looking at them with exhaustion, anxiety; as if in deathly fear of what they would think of her.
‘Hi, guys,’ she croaked.
Before
Nada glances from one end of the path to the other, looking for him.
This corner of Highgate Woods is relatively empty; despite the fact that it is almost May, the sun has yet to gain any of its summer warmth. The sky is grey, overcast; people walk around in huddled shapes, glancing up into the air with suspicion whenever there is a spray of rain.
Nada fishes out her phone for the hundredth time. No new messages. She snorts in frustration and puts it away, bunching her scarf high up her neck and sitting back on the bench.
It was a week ago that she received the text from Noah. She hadn’t given him her number; he’d got it from Clarisse. Nada didn’t have a say; just as with the kiss, everything had to happen on Noah’s terms.
And yet his text was innocent enough. He apologised for that encounter on the tube platform; he realised that he’d probably upset her. And asked to meet to talk it over.
As far as Nada is concerned, there is nothing to talk over. Nothing to discuss. And yet she has spent the week wondering what it would be like to meet him, and what he would say. She felt that he’d made himself very clear; that the kiss at King’s Cross was just a burst of desire. So what good could come of a conversation?
She had been confused and angry after the kiss. She had even sworn not to talk to him again. And yet the text played on her mind. There was something exciting about the idea of an illicit meeting, and getting a chance to give him a piece of her mind. But whenever the desire to text him back crossed her mind, she felt a pang of guilt for going behind Clarisse’s back.
As days went by, and she had still not answered him, she realised that he was entering into her thoughts at odd times, such as when she was teaching a class, or when she was talking to Clarisse. She realised that she had to deal with the issue head on. To meet him, talk to him, and let that be the end of it.
She replied. He suggested a time, then sent a pin of a location on Google Maps, and the deed was done.
Now Nada dives her hands into her pockets in order to keep them warm. She resents the fact that she is waiting; resents the fact that he is late. She wonders whether it is deliberate; whether his lateness is a power play.
She waits for a while longer, long enough to wonder what she is doing here, what she hopes to get out of such a meeting.
She has almost convinced herself to leave when he arrives.
He does not wear a coat, but has a long, drooping sweater that looks bohemian, and a scarf that curls lazily around his neck.
Nada’s instinct is to get up to greet him; she forces herself not to, letting him sit down next to her and waiting for him to initiate the conversation.
He doesn’t. He leans back, and appears to take in the park before them. London roars in the background, but there is still a kind of peace here, a tranquillity.
‘What does Clarisse think you’re doing right now?’ asks Nada, with as much spite as she can muster.
‘She doesn’t think anything. I don’t have to explain myself to her.’ He takes out a cigarette, goes through the ritual of lighting it. ‘And anyway, she’s at her parents’ this weekend.’
Of course, Nada thinks. Clarisse mentioned going away to see her family a while back. Why didn’t I make the connection?
‘So you wanted to talk,’ she says.
‘Yes. But mostly I wanted to listen. I want you to tell me how you feel.’
Nada stiffens. ‘No. I don’t believe you. You didn’t go through this bother just to find out how I feel. Say what you came here to say.’
‘Well, I …’
‘It hurt, Noah.’ She realises that she does want to talk first after all. She has thought carefully about what she is going to say, and doesn’t trust herself to get the words right if Noah gets into her head. ‘It upset me that we kissed behind Clarisse’s back. But it also upset me that it was in a public place; there are plenty of teachers and students from my school who travel on the same line. And it upset me that you came on to me like that; like I didn’t have a choice.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’
Nada glances at him to study his face. ‘You’re sorry? Really?’ she repeats with suspicion.
Noah exhales, sending two lines of smoke from his nostrils. ‘Well, I know I’m supposed to be, but no more than that, if I’m honest. But then you’re not as traumatised as you claim either.’
‘You don’t know me.’
He raises one eyebrow, looking at her with a knowing smirk. ‘Don’t I?’
Nada snorts, crossing her legs and shifting away from him. ‘Don’t you feel ashamed? Why are you jeopardising your relationship with Clarisse? She doesn’t deserve that.’
‘I’m not jeopardising anything. We are going to get married, and in time we’ll move out of this stinking city.’
‘So what I am, then? Something you want on the side?’
He casts away his cigarette and then puts his hand on hers. She tries to ignore it, but he takes hold of her fingers in a way that is both firm and gentle.
‘You’ve got it all wrong, Nada. You spend your time working at that shitty school, then taking care of your mum. You never have a second to spare for yourself. I saw it within seconds of meeting you in that terrible bar last Christmas, dancing nervously when you’d rather be sitting with the coats. I told myself: this girl is amazing … but there’s something missing. Something she needs.’
Nada grimaces. ‘So I’ve got this hole in my life, and you’re the one to fill it, are you? Does this arrogance normally get you what you want?’
‘I don’t want anything, Nada; I’m not chasing you. If you prefer, we can leave this bench and never talk to each other again. I’m happy with Clarisse; I don’t need anything else. But if you want more, even just as a friend, then … well, I’m here. Everyone in London is so stuck in their ways, clinging to this and that, rushing about like everything in their life is so important. If you need something different, that’s where I can come in.’
Nada lowers her resistance for a moment, and contemplates the park in front of her, mulling over his words. No one has ever spoken to her like that before; it is such a peculiar offer. And yet there is an honesty in it that intrigues her. She wishes she could see things with the clarity and certainty he does. Wishes her head wasn’t always so full of anxiety.
Rain peppers the lawn in front of her and tickles the branches of the tree above. Drops filter through the leaves, darkening the wood of the bench between them.
‘Why did you pick this place anyway?’ Nada asks.
‘Here?’ Noah smiles. ‘Well, I happen to still have my old flat around the corner …’
Now
Nineteen
‘Tamsyn?’ gasped Afreya.
She walked forward and embraced Tamsyn, wrapping her arms about her. There was a desperate relief in the way they grasped each other. Gaia stepped forward too, and joined in the embrace.
‘See? The Bard is well,’ said Paul.
Nada did not at first see what he meant. She was still reeling from the fact that Tamsyn was there, and what her presence implied. But once Tamsyn stepped out of her embrace with Gaia, Nada got a chance to take a good look at her, and realised what he was getting at.
Tamsyn was wearing a dark green cloak, a wide-brimmed hat with a feather darting out of its side, and a red waistcoat. The most distinctive feature, however, was what was strapped to her back: it appeared to be a lute. Nada quickly scanned the cart: there was a small drum there too, with a few sticks.
‘A bard … like Shakespeare?’ asked Gaia.
‘I guess. A bard is a travelling poet and musician,’ replied Nada. ‘They tell stories.’
She wanted to try and figure out if there was a reason why they had been given their particular roles: whether the fact that Tamsyn was dressed as a bard was supposed to mean anything. But she was overwhelmed, reeling from all that happened. There were so many questions, so many mysteries.
And she was also recovering from what she had just done; how she’d acted. She could barely recognise the person who had spoken to Paul in that way; the person who had threatened him with an axe. Even thinking of it made her head spin. She could still recognise the fury that was inside her, but now she was afraid of it, afraid of what it could make her become.
What had broken the dam? Was it the threat, the danger? Or – she swallowed when she considered this – was she finally sick of being cajoled and manipulated by everyone in her life?
Tamsyn was in a bad way, her eyes sunken with the strain of worry. Her hair darted out in bunches from under her hat, unkempt. There was a fear about her, a panic. The idea that this was over now, that she would be a reassuring presence telling them how it had just been a silly game, disappeared.
She stepped back, looked at them all, and burst into tears. Whether it was from relief or sadness, it was impossible to tell.
‘Are you okay?’ said Afreya.
‘I’m so sorry …’ Tamsyn sobbed. ‘I’m so sorry … forgive me …’
‘Tamsyn,’ Gaia urged. ‘What happened? You have to tell us.’
‘I had no choice …’
‘Tamsyn, please tell us, we’ve got to know.’ Nada came forward, taking Tamsyn’s small frame by the shoulders. ‘Is this a joke? A prank? Please, just tell us.’
‘It’s no joke,’ Tamsyn said, tears coursing down her cheeks. ‘They know. They know everything … I’m sorry.’
Nada’s insides turned to ice. ‘What do you mean, everything? What do they know?’
Tamsyn looked at her pleadingly, as if begging for some kind of forgiveness. ‘They know it all, Nada. We just have to do what they say. There’s no other way …’
Nada could feel the anger, the hysteria threatening to take over once more. Her grip on Tamsyn’s shoulders tightened. ‘Just talk to us, for God’s sake! What’s happening? What do they know?’
‘That’s quite enough for now.’
The voice came from behind them: Paul’s deep-throated whisper.
Nada wheeled around. He was standing in front of them, spinning the axe gently from hand to hand, an unhinged look still painted across his features.
‘We wouldn’t want to spoil anything, would we?’
Nada swallowed. ‘What is it you want, Paul?’
‘You will call me Executioner from now on; there will be no more breaking character. It’s time for you all to come inside. It’s time to play the mystery, at long last.’
Gaia took a step forward, squaring up to him. ‘What if we don’t? What if we refuse … Paul?’
Paul grinned. And then he swung the axe.
It sliced through the air, whistling as it went, and tore through Gaia’s skirts.
Gaia gasped, clutching her leg, and collapsed to the ground. For a moment, Nada couldn’t breathe; her heart was in her mouth. Paul simply stepped back into his original position, holding the axe upright again, daring anyone else to come forth. Still with that beaming smile.
Nada rushed to Gaia, falling to the grass beside her. ‘Gaia, are you all right?’
Gaia’s eyes were wide open; she was hyperventilating. ‘Oh my God …’
‘Let me take a look at it.’ The request came from behind Nada. It was Afreya.
‘Yes, let the Doctor take a look,’ said Paul. ‘Perhaps she can prescribe some leeches and bleeding …’
They ignored him. Gaia breathed heavily; Nada took her hand and held it tight. Afreya lifted the torn skirt to inspect the wound beneath. There was nothing.
‘Did he get me?’
Nada felt Gaia squeeze her hand so tightly she thought her bones would be crushed. Perhaps it was just the lack of light, but it looked like Gaia’s face was going pale, the blood draining from her face.
‘He didn’t touch you, Gaia.’ Afreya looked up.
Gaia nodded, still breathing heavily. ‘I thought …’
‘It’s just shock,’ Afreya said. ‘The blade didn’t touch you.’
‘Of course it didn’t,’ said Paul, as if such a thought was unreasonable. ‘I couldn’t hurt a noblewoman. Anyway, it’s time to begin. Bard, bring the cart.’
Tamsyn bowed her head and nodded, going to pick up the cart.
Why was she doing this? Why was she a slave to this Executioner figure?
‘Tamsyn, don’t listen to him,’ said Afreya. ‘You don’t have to do what he says.’
Tamsyn’s head drooped in defeat. ‘You don’t understand yet. I have to do what they say.’ And with that, she moved past them, pulling the cart along.
Nada tried to help Gaia up, but she didn’t take her hand, choosing to scramble up on her own, as if sulking from hurt pride. ‘I’m fine. I was just surprised, is all. I thought maybe he’d cut me.’ Her face darkened with fury as she glanced at Paul.
They walked across the courtyard, Nada and Afreya staying close to Gaia in case she changed her mind and wanted to lean on them again. As they made their way towards the house, Clarisse and Elena came running out, disturbed by the noise.
‘What happened?’ they said together, and then they saw Tamsyn, and stopped in their tracks.
Twenty
They were gathered in the kitchen, with Paul standing over them, axe in hand.
Waiting.
It felt wrong to be sitting there, at the very table where they had been drinking and chatting just a few hours ago. After what had happened outside in the mad flare of the torches, everything now felt unnervingly real under the harsh kitchen light. It was as if they had woken up from a nightmare, only to find that they had brought the dream with them.
Clarisse and Elena had been brought up to speed about what had happened outside, but Clarisse seemed to be in denial. She was on edge like the rest of them, but it had been hard to put into words how menacing Paul had become, how that attack on Gaia had changed things. Before, there had been the suggestion of danger; now it was there in every gesture he made, every word he spoke. Clarisse, however, did not flinch as much as the others, or tremble; while everyone else avoided looking at him, she studied him as if curious.
What was hardest to understand was what Tamsyn was doing there. Clarisse had run to her like a child to its mother. For a few minutes, when everyone was filing into the kitchen, they had whispered together, confiding in one another.
Nada had heard that so-called best friends sometimes had an almost secret language with which they communicated, that every word spoken conveyed ten others. Tamsyn and Clarisse had only conferred for a couple of minutes before Paul had given Tamsyn an order and she’d had to leave, but afterwards Clarisse seemed reassured, calm even.
Nada wondered what Tamsyn had said. Had she told the truth, or had she lied? Had she said that they were under threat, or that this was all an act? Nada felt like she could do with a best friend of her own, whispering in her ear and giving her courage.
They waited. Elena was trembling but trying to hide it. Clarisse had lines of make-up trailing from her eyes, carried down by tears. Gaia and Afreya looked like they were doing their best to suppress their anger, to not do something rash; Gaia even seemed to be assessing Paul. Would he actually use his axe properly the next time? And if so, could he be caught unawares? After all, Nada realised, there was only one of him, and many of them.
Still the question persisted. Would the easiest thing be to just play along? If they simply did what they were told, would they come out of the evening unharmed?
More and more questions; one for each slow minute.
After a while, Afreya got up. She took out some glasses and slammed them down on the table before pouring vodka into each of them.
Nada cast a glance at Paul, as if waiting for his permission.
‘Drink,’ he said, with that awful smirk fixed on his lips. ‘This is a celebration.’
‘Seems like we’re going to need it,’ Afreya said under her breath. She passed the glasses around. Gaia refused, but everyone else took one. Afreya made sure that Clarisse had the glass with the biggest shot.
‘This madness is going to be over soon,’ she declared loudly, her jaw clenched. ‘And then, Clarisse, I promise that we will have a proper hen do. The one that you wanted.’
Everyone nodded. Clarisse smiled without smiling.
They knocked the drinks back as one.
As soon as the alcohol hit, and the warmth of it spread down Nada’s throat, she immediately felt grateful for it. Before long, she could sense a little fuzziness on the edges of her vision. She’d wondered whether it had been a good idea; whether she should have refused like Gaia. But it was only a matter of minutes before Afreya refilled their glasses, and Nada found herself downing the second drink. It was for courage, she told herself. Courage alone.
More long minutes passed.
‘What are we waiting for, Executioner?’ asked Elena.
‘For the room to be ready,’ replied Paul. ‘It won’t be long now.’
And sure enough, a few minutes later, Tamsyn re-entered the kitchen. She kept her eyes straight ahead, trying to avoid everyone’s gaze.
‘Is it ready, Bard?’ asked Paul.
‘It’s ready, Executioner.’
Paul nodded. ‘Good. Members of the Hunt, please proceed into the room of festivities.’
They stood up, and one by one, like schoolchildren, they filtered out of the door and through the hall.
When they entered the living room, they found it had been changed completely. All the light came from candles, except for the healthy fire in the grate. It made it seem sombre and atmospheric, like the setting for a seance.
The table was now the centrepiece of the room. There was a circle of candles upon it, and a place set for every one of them, marked with parchments. Clarisse was at the head of the table; the Jester’s seat was next to Gaia’s Noblewoman.
