Cold Comfort (10 page)

“I’m no one’s,” I told him in no uncertain
terms. “Not yours, and certainly not his.” Mr Somerville just laughed again. It
was a more sinister sound this time, and for a moment I felt afraid of him.

“Get back to the cottage now, Delilah,”
Mama interrupted. “Move the car from the front of the house. I’ll be over shortly.”
She sounded coolly efficient, not at all her normal warm self. I hesitated,
unwilling to leave her here with him. “Now, Delilah,” she said again. I moved,
relieved when I stepped out of the house and into the fresh air. Somehow I
started the car and drove it back to its place in front of the cottage. Then I
went inside and sat in a chair to wait for her.

*

She arrived home about half an hour later. When
she walked through the door, for the first time in my life, I didn’t know what
to say to her. I’d thought of so many questions while I’d waited, but the words
just fled. “Why?” I finally managed to croak out.

“Oh, baby,” she said, moving to kneel in
front of my chair. “Baby, I’m so sorry you found out from someone other than
me. I regret that more than anything.”

“Why do it, though, Mama? How could you let
him do that to you?”

“Baby, I’m not going to lie, life was hard
for us. You were little for most of it, but I struggled – a lot. Before I
had you I’d always made a living that way, honey. I’m not ashamed,” she said
quickly. “I didn’t walk the streets or anything. I was a little classier than
that, I like to think. But I gave it all up when I met your dad. He was a
client. Like so many others, he said he wasn’t happy in his marriage, that his
wife didn’t understand him. I thought I’d fallen in love for the first time,
and then I had you and I really learned what love was. The relationship wasn’t
strong enough. He just couldn’t cope with my history. Even though I wasn’t
doing it anymore, he couldn’t handle the fact I had done it at all. When we ran
into an ex-client while we were out shopping one day, it was all too much for
him. He ran straight back to his wife.” She paused to take a breath. “After he
left it was a struggle for me, for us. Then, just when I was at my wits’ end,
Mr Somerville contacted me. He’d been a client before and heard I was
considering starting again. He made me an offer – come and work for him,
be available to him and him alone, and we could live in this cottage. I couldn’t
turn it down. It was the chance to make a better life for you. For both of us.”

“It wasn’t worth it, surely?”

“Honey, I’ve never known how to do anything
else, apart from look after and love you. It’s not been so bad, has it? We’ve
been happy all these years.”

“Yes,” I whispered, “we’ve been happy, but
at such a high cost for you.”

“Nothing was too much for you, sweetheart. He’s
not so bad most of the time. I’m just a glorified housekeeper, really. But now
he’s seen you, baby…” Her voice trailed off.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s a man who likes to acquire beautiful
things,” she said, cupping my face with her palm. “I like to think that’s why
he wanted me all those years ago.”

“You’re still beautiful, Mama,” I assured
her. She was. Even at middle age she was still a striking woman. Slim, with
long dark hair like mine, with deep mahogany eyes. I’d often wondered why she’d
never been snapped up by some guy or other. I’d supposed at the time she wasn’t
interested. Now that I knew the truth, I realised it just wasn’t permitted. I
felt another pang of sorrow for everything she’d given up so that I could have
a secure childhood.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Don’t look sad. I
chose this life for us, and if I faced those choices again I’d do the same
thing. I’m not ashamed of the life I’ve lived… but I don’t want it for you.”

“I don’t want it for me either.” I
shuddered, thinking of Mr Somerville.

“As I said, he likes to collect beautiful
things. God knows you’re surely one of the most beautiful. Hardy’s already made
a fuss about you…” The mention of Hardy’s name in this context brought me up
cold and reminded me of what had brought me to this point in the first place.
“Now Mr Somerville has seen you, he’ll want to keep you.”

“Well, he can’t keep me. I’m not his to
keep.”

“He’ll find a way… he can be very
persuasive. I don’t want that for you, honey. You have to leave… get away from
this place. Get out of their sphere of influence. Follow your dream, Delilah. You
wanted to study music, and you should do that… but not at Cambridge like you
planned. You’d be too easy to find there. They know too many people, and they’d
suck you back in. Go further away. I made a call to my sister in Brighton.”

“You have a sister?”

“Yes. She’s not too proud of what her
little sister does for a living, so she doesn’t want anything to do with me,
but she’ll put it to one side if I ask her to for you. Go there. I’ll write the
address down. I’ve already spoken to Sussex University. They have a BA in
Music, and with your grades they said they’d be happy to offer you a place. I
know it’s not what you planned,” she said, her head in her hands, “but it’s all
I can do. I can’t see you follow my path, and that’s what he’ll want you to
do.” I didn’t know if she meant Hardy or the elder Mr Somerville. Either way, I
felt sick.

“Brighton?” I whispered. It sounded a long
way away. All I knew was it was near the sea. “Won’t you come with me?”

“I can’t,” she replied. “I still owe him
for the debts I’d built up. He paid them off for me when we came here. I
thought I’d be able to pay him back sooner, but life is expensive. Music
lessons are expensive. I’ve got some money saved… your first year of tuition
fees. I want you to have it. We’ll deal with the rest when the time comes. I’ll
work to pay off my debts, and after that I’ll come to you… I promise.”

“I’ll work hard. I’ll earn money and help
you pay it off sooner.” I’d never been so determined to make something of my
life.

“I know you will, honey. You’re special,
which is why we can’t let them have you. They’d destroy that. Now, come on. We
need to pack.”

I peered at the large white regency
building in front of me, guitar in one hand and suitcase in the other, my
handbag slung across my chest. The building seemed to be divided into numerous
flats, so it took me several attempts to locate the correct bell. After a
couple of minutes a shrill ‘yes’ barked out of the intercom.

“It’s Delilah,” I told the voice. There was
an audible huff and then the sound of the buzzer unlocking the door. “Top
floor,” was all the voice said before the line went dead.

I pushed open the door to Student Services
and groaned. Miserable Martha was sitting behind the desk. She was by far my
least favourite assistant. I’d been calling into the office daily for the last
three months trying to find some sort of accommodation that would mean I could finally
move out of Aunt Sarah’s. The problem was I couldn’t afford anything more than
a room in halls, and that was only because they were subsidised. Unfortunately they’d
all been allocated before I’d emerged from my fog of misery sufficiently to
realise I needed to sort my life out.

When I’d arrived it was all I could do to
get myself to college to register for my course. Otherwise I’d had a kind of
meltdown. I’d veered between depression at leaving everything and everyone I
knew, speaking only to Ma on our nightly calls, and paranoia that someone would
come after me. Several times I could have sworn I was being followed or felt
like someone was watching me. It was strange, I reflected, that I missed home
when in reality I’d had no real friends there. Emily had been the closest thing
to it, which said a lot. I guessed it was the familiarity I missed, rather than
the place or the people. Then, of course, there’d been my feelings about Hardy
to deal with. Or not. It hurt too much to think about his betrayal, so I didn’t.
I just locked it away. For days he’d tried to call me, calling incessantly all
day and all night and texting in between until I’d changed my phone. I’d read
and listened to none of his messages, deciding it was better to make a clean
break from the toxic world he inhabited.

To add to my misery, Aunt Sarah’s was
becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Not least because she only had a sofa bed
that was lumpy as hell. It was situated in her lounge, which meant I needed to
be up and out the house before she left for work because she didn’t trust me to
be left home alone, and unfortunately she worked long hours in an office in
town. I tended to spend most of my days walking round campus or sitting in the
library or canteen when I wasn’t in classes or the practice rooms.

My course was my only saving grace. It was
everything I’d hoped it might be. I’d immersed myself in the vast library of
scores, CDs and DVDs on a daily basis, and I loved the historical and
contextual musical component classes almost as much as I loved the composition.
Mama said I sounded like a ‘pig in mud’ when I talked to her about it. College
was the only time I felt anything near happy.

I walked towards the desk while Martha
carried on pecking away at her keyboard, studiously ignoring my presence until
I was standing right beside her. “Morning, Martha,” I began. We were all on
first-name terms by this stage. She didn’t even look up. I tried again, a
little louder this time. “Morning, Martha. I wondered if any rooms had become available.”

“Not since yesterday,” she said, still not
looking up. I’d been told my only hope would be if someone found themselves a
room in a shared house or left the university. I’d taken to praying
homesickness would become too much for one of the other first-years and they
would leave, giving me the chance of a room. Then I felt bad about wishing
unhappiness on someone. Either way, so far I’d had no luck. All the other first-years
seemed to be wholly embracing student life. I’d overheard excited chatter from
some of the other girls about bars and club nights as they’d exchanged coy
glances with guys in the canteen, while I’d sat on my own. A part but apart. Sure,
some people had tried to talk to me, mostly guys, but I knew what they were
after. The other girls just scowled at me. I’d hoped things might change now I
was at university, but it seemed I was destined to remain on a path of lonely
isolation. Plus the longer it went on, the less able I felt to break out of it.

“You really need to think about finding a
private rental, dear. I think it’s very unlikely something will become
available now if it hasn’t already,” Martha said as the door to the office
opened behind me. She finally looked up.

“I can’t afford the private rental prices
at the moment,” I explained. We had this conversation on a weekly basis.

“Can’t you take out a loan?”

“I already have. Even with that I’ll
struggle to pay rent and eat.”

“What about a job?”

“I’m looking.”

“Well, that’s good, dear. I’m sure you’ll
find something soon.” I knew that was my cue to leave. We’d now exhausted our
conversational capabilities, and she was back to pecking at her keyboard. I
turned, trying not to let the tears that were burning my eyes spill over, and
bumped into a guy who was standing behind me.

“Sorry,” I said on reflex and moved past
him, heading for the door.

“Hold up,” he said, slipping the card he’d
been holding into his pocket. I paused with my hand on the doorknob and looked
at him properly. He was familiar… I’d seen him on my course, and frankly he was
hard to miss. He had glasses with thick lenses, the kind that magnified the
person’s eyes and made them look huge, and he was thin. Thinner than me, and
tall with it. I paused, wondering what he wanted. “I heard you say you’re
looking for a room,” he said, sounding nervous.

“Yeah,” I said slowly.

“Well, I have a room.”

“Good for you,” I said, irritated now. I
pulled the door open and walked out fast.

“No,” he said, trying to run after me,
despite his poor eyesight. “I mean, you don’t understand. What I wanted to say
was I have a room you can rent,” he called after me.

I paused midway down the corridor and
looked back at him. “Thank you, but I can’t afford private rental prices.”

“I only want £100 a week.” It was the same
as the halls prices – at the top of my budget – but if I was careful,
and found a part-time job to fit round my studies, then I’d be able to afford
it. I felt a glimmer of hope, and then slammed it back down as I prepared
myself for some sort of catch. “Really, no catch,” he said, seeming to read my
mind. “Look, why don’t we get a coffee and I can tell you about it. Then you
can decide if you want to look at it or not.” I nodded. I needed to get away
from Aunt Sarah and her disapproving stares. At this stage I’d consider
anything. “I’m Eddy,” he said, holding out his hand for me to shake.

“Delilah,” I replied.

We walked in silence towards one of the
small cafes on site. He seemed to be almost as socially awkward as me, and I
took some comfort in that. When he failed to see a step down and stumbled, I
immediately put a hand out to stabilise him. “Thanks,” he said, looking
embarrassed.

“No problem,” I assured him. We found a
table and ordered our coffee, then he started to explain.

“I’ve got a two-bedroom flat in town. It’s
nice, not far from the station, so easy enough to get in to College, but central
enough to be able to enjoy Brighton.”

“It sounds great,” I said. It did. Too
good.

“The room’s not huge, but big enough for a
double bed and wardrobe. We’d have to share a bathroom.”

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Where are you at the moment?”

“With my aunt, on the seafront.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Locationally yes, but she’s not my biggest
fan. She’s just putting up with me because we’re related and she feels obliged.
I’m meant to have found somewhere else before now, but it’s not been that easy.
I didn’t get myself organised in time to get a place in halls, and I can’t
afford most of the private rent prices. Why’s yours so cheap?” I asked,
suspicious now.

He shifted, looking embarrassed. “It’s my
flat. I own it outright.”

“No mortgage?” I asked, amazed. He nodded. “Wow.
How’d you manage that? Are your parents loaded or something?”

“Something like that.” He shifted nervously
again. “So anyway, I don’t need to have anyone rent the room out if I don’t
want to.”

“Sounds amazing.”

“Yeah, but a bit lonely.” I looked at him
then and found a kindred spirit looking back at me. We were two socially
dysfunctional souls. Both lonely and in need of a friend. Something told me I
could trust him. I took a long drink from my latte.

“We’re on the same course, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, that’s what made me stop you. I’ve
seen you in lectures.”

I paused and looked at him again, his big
eyes blinking back at me, and made a decision. “I’d like to see it, if you’re
still okay with the idea.” He smiled, and it transformed him.

*

The apartment was in an amazing location. Situated
in the fashionable North Laines, it had easy access to the station but was also
smack bang in the heart of the coolest shopping area, in a town already known
for being cool. Plus the beach was only half a mile away. The apartment itself
blew me away. Newly built and well appointed, it had a massive open-plan lounge
and kitchen, furnished with all the latest mod cons. When he finally showed me what
would be my room, and it was twice the size I’d imagined from his description,
I knew something was seriously up.

I turned to look at him. “How much were you
planning to ask for this room?” He flushed. “The card I saw you pocket in Student
Services. That was an advert for this place, wasn’t it?” Reluctantly he nodded.
“Show me.”

Slowly he pulled the card from where he had
hidden it and handed it over. The description and location were accurate, but
the price was nearly triple what he’d told me. “You lied about the price of the
room,” I said. He blushed again. “Why?”

“Because I knew you couldn’t afford it.”

“So why even speak to me? I can’t pay this
much. I can barely pay the £100 we discussed.”

“I told you, I’m not doing it for the
money.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“Company.” My mind ran to images of what he
might mean by ‘company’. Thoughts of the Somervilles filled my mind, and for a
moment I thought I might vomit all over the beautiful carpet.

“I’m not that kind of girl,” I whispered,
backing away from him towards the door.

“Jesus, no,” he said, “I didn’t mean company
like that. I meant company as in friendship. I’m not interested in you like
that. I’m gay, for god’s sake. Being gay and looking like this doesn’t make it
easy to find friends,” he said, pointing at his face, and I saw pain flash
through his eyes. My heart melted a little.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“Look, Delilah, you’re a beautiful girl. I
can only imagine what sort of attention you get from guys on a daily basis. I’m
not like them.”

“I believe you,” I said, and he looked
relieved.

“Seriously, I just want a flatmate. Someone
to hang out with. You seemed like you needed a friend too. I’ve never seen you
hanging out with anyone. It was coincidence I saw you today, but I believe we
were meant to find each other. You need a flat, I need a flatmate, and we could
both do with a few more friends. What do you say?”

I thought about it for a nanosecond, but
really he was right. I’d be mad to turn this down, and from what I’d seen so
far I liked him. “If you’ll have me, I’d love to rent the room.”

He grinned. “This calls for a celebration I
think,” he said, moving to his fridge to find a couple of beers. He levered
both the caps off and handed me one of the bottles. I took a swig and grimaced.
He laughed. “Not a beer drinker?”

“Not any sort of drinker, really,” I
admitted.

“Okay, well, you’re a student now. I think
we’ll have to work on your palate just a little if you want to fit in.” I
grinned this time. “So how quickly can you get your stuff?” he asked.

“How quickly can I move in? I’ve been living
out a suitcase for the last four months. My aunt can’t wait to see the back of
me, so I can move as soon as you’ll have me. Do you need me to sign a tenancy
agreement? What deposit do you want?”

“Let’s say a month up front. I’ll get a
contract, but we’ll sort it out later. I’m happy for you to move in today. That
way I can copy your latest assignment.” I laughed out loud this time.

“You think I’m kidding?” he said with a
chuckle. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you acing every assignment we’ve had so
far. I can’t wait to steal your best ideas.”

“I’ve had nothing to do but study since I’ve
been here. Are you telling me all this has been a deliberate ploy to copy my
work?” He looked worried for a second, as if he really thought I might believe
he’d done that, but then I laughed again and he relaxed. “My aunt will be back
from work at half five. I can collect my stuff then, if that’s okay?”

“Perfect,” he said with a smile. “In the
meantime let’s go and get some stuff in so we can have a celebratory meal tonight.”

I was the happiest I’d been in months as we
weaved our way around the nearby supermarket, pointing out our favourite foods.
When he tripped on a shopping basket someone had left on the ground beside the
shelves and nearly landed on the floor, I felt his mood dip. His sight was
worse than he let on. “I have what is referred to as progressive cone
dystrophy. It basically means I can’t see very well,” he told me when I finally
asked.