Hothouse Flower (32 page)

Kit sighed. ‘Look, it’s not something I talk about very often. Do you really want to hear? It’s not a pretty story.’

‘Yes,’ she nodded, knowing intuitively that this was the missing link to Kit and who he was. ‘Actually, I do. But only if you are up to telling it.’

‘Okay,’ Kit breathed. ‘Is there any wine left in this house? I could do with a glass.’

‘There’s half a bottle in the fridge, but it’s a couple of days old.’

‘Any port in a storm,’ Kit quipped. ‘I’ll restoke this pathetic apology of a fire whilst you get the wine and the glasses.’

Julia padded off to the kitchen, feeling shell-shocked. Having struggled to find the strength to place Kit firmly in the past, she was now trying to accept what seemed a very plausible story. And when he’d held her hand, that same irritating bolt of electricity had ignited and slid up her spine.

‘Here you are. Probably disgusting by now,’ she said as she poured the remnants into the glasses and handed one to him. ‘So, fire away.’

‘It is,’ said Kit, taking a gulp, ‘disgusting, but never mind. Right … if you don’t mind, I’ll rattle through it, tell you the bare bones; it makes it easier, somehow.’ He sighed. ‘As I mentioned, I shared a house at uni with Annie, who was studying architecture, and a couple of other students. Annie’s best friend, Milla, came up from London to stay with her one weekend. I was twenty-two at the time, and from the first moment I set eyes on Milla, I fell passionately in love. She was the most vivacious, beautiful, charismatic human being I’d ever met. The room came alive when she walked in. She was at drama college, training to be an actress.’ Kit shook his head. ‘I know she would have been a huge success if …’

‘If what?’ Julia prompted.

‘I’ll get to that soon. Anyway, even though Annie warned me not to become involved, that Milla was a flighty butterfly with all sorts of hidden issues, I jumped in headlong. And Milla seemed to like me too, even though we were so different, and we became an item. In the following few months, I spent more time on the motorways between Edinburgh and London than I did working. She was like a drug. I just couldn’t be without her.’

‘First love,’ whispered Julia, thinking of Xavier and the moment she had met him.

‘Yes. Completely,’ agreed Kit. ‘And, of course, I decided to fall in love with the most complex, needy woman of the lot. But I know now that was partly what appealed. It was the excitement of the roller-coaster, never knowing where I was with her; whether she was really mine. She’d tell me she adored me, that she loved me more than anything, and then I wouldn’t hear from her for a week or so. Suffice to say, my work suffered and I was living on borrowed time as far as my course was concerned, but I didn’t care.’ Kit gave a strangled chuckle. ‘Julia, I was a basket case.’

‘So, what happened next?’

‘I staggered on, up and down to London, and after a while even I realised Milla was beginning to behave oddly. She’d always had lots of energy, able to stay up all night dancing and partying, but the energy began to take on a manic quality. Sometimes I’d spend an entire weekend with her and she wouldn’t sleep at all. She seemed to be mixing in some pretty seedy groups in London and was starting to lose weight. Then, one weekend, I caught her in the bathroom, injecting herself. She was using heroin.’

‘Oh, God,’ Julia muttered. ‘Did she confess?’

‘She had to, she’d been caught red-handed. I knew Milla sometimes used coke, but this was a whole new level. She swore she could come off it, but said she needed me there to help her.’

‘And you agreed?’

‘Like a lamb to the slaughter. I threw up my med course and hot-footed it down to London to save her.’

‘Oh, Kit! After all that hard work. You must have been about to get your degree.’

‘Yes,’ Kit sighed. ‘Told you I was a basket case.’

‘So did you save Milla?’

‘No. If only I’d known then, that the one person who can save an addict is the addict themselves. Yes, Milla tried, I know she did, going cold turkey for a couple of weeks, or maybe a month, but then it would start over again. And, naturally, I became the “enemy”, the beast who took money away from her, refused to let her walk down the street without me, listened to her calls in case she was contacting her dealer. She hated me. Hated me.’ Kit ran a hand through his unruly hair. ‘This went on for months, until I came back to the flat after a trip to the supermarket and found her gone. She was picked up by the police the following day, lying in a gutter, unconscious. She’d overdosed. The hospital booked her into a drying-out centre and she promised me she’d stick with it. She was desperate I didn’t leave her. I agreed not to, on the condition she stayed there and received the help she needed. I also told her if she went back on it, I would leave for good.’

‘You had no choice, Kit, surely? For Milla’s sake and yours.’

‘That was certainly what the professionals told me, yes,’ agreed Kit. ‘And that was the last good moment, really, when she came out of the rehab centre. We had three glorious months when I got my Milla back. She even talked of returning to drama school and I looked in to restarting my medical studies in London.’ Kit shrugged. ‘It was normal, and wonderful because of it.’

‘But it didn’t last?’

‘No.’ Kit shook his head wistfully. ‘By then I knew the signs: the mania, the purple shadows under her eyes, the weight loss … I may have given up my university course, but by this time I had a PhD in Milla and addiction. Milla denied it, but I knew she was using again. So, I carried out my threat, hoping it might jolt her into realisation. God, Julia, it was dreadful. She screamed and cried, begged me not to go, said she’d kill herself if I left …’ Kit put his head in his hands. ‘It was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do. I loved her so very much, but I knew nothing would change if I didn’t leave her and, by this point, I knew I was being dragged down with her.’

Julia instinctively reached out a hand to comfort him. ‘Kit, I can’t imagine …’ she whispered. ‘Did it help?’

‘No! Of course it didn’t.’ He gave a short, despairing laugh. ‘I stayed away for a week, literally having to stop myself going to her twenty times a day, then went back to find the flat deserted. I alerted the police, of course. And, eventually, two weeks later, they found her in the squat of a renowned dealer. She was dead.’

‘I’m so sorry, Kit,’ Julia whispered, finding the words as useless as when the phrase had been repeatedly said to her.

‘Yup, well … so was I.’ He raised his head from his hands. ‘She’d said she’d kill herself if I left her and, in essence, that’s what she did. The autopsy showed she died of a massive overdose, but there was worse: it also showed she’d been raped repeatedly before she died. She’d obviously turned to prostitution to get her fix. I’d seen bruises in strange places on her body before, which I’d tried to ignore, but I had to accept she’d probably slept with men for money when she was with me.’

As Kit paused and stared into the fire, she could see in his eyes he was reliving the pain.

‘I – oh, Kit, I don’t know what to say,’ she whispered.

‘As you know so well, Julia, it’s always best to say nothing, because there’s nothing to say. After that – well, I lost the plot. I felt so bloody guilty for leaving her, so angry she’d wasted her life and, actually, most of all, bitter she had chosen heroin and subsequent death over me. I simply lost my faith in human nature. All that stuff about “doing the right thing”, that “love will win through” … well, it hadn’t worked. There was no “happy ending”, just the dead, broken body of a young woman and the wreck of a man still alive.’ Kit smiled bitterly.

‘You mean, you had to accept you had no control? That sometimes it doesn’t matter what you do, how much effort and love you pour into life, it makes no difference to the outcome? That’s what I’ve learnt in the past few months, anyway,’ Julia said quietly.

‘Yes, that’s about the size of it,’ Kit agreed. ‘And it’s taken me years to learn the flip-side; that sometimes it
does
make a difference and one mustn’t lose belief
.
Of course, in the long run, these tragedies do make you wiser, more accepting of the frailty of human nature. But, my God, it took me a long time. I suppose I had a breakdown of sorts, afterwards.’

‘Is that where Annie came in?’

‘Yes. She was amazing. When she heard, she zoomed down to London and carted me back to Edinburgh, where she proceeded to give me the kind of TLC one reads about in books. She explained over and over again that Milla had always been fragile mentally, that there was nothing more I could have done, how I’d loved her and cared for her, and that I mustn’t feel responsible for what happened to her. I, of course, ignored her,’ Kit chuckled, ‘and carried on down the road to destruction and self-inflicted isolation. Let me promise you, Julia,’ he looked her straight in the eye, ‘you have nothing on me. I wallowed in self-indulgence. For years, actually. I was so angry!’

‘Hardly self-indulgence, Kit. You’d been through hell. So, how did the anger stop?’

‘I had what I suppose one would call an epiphany a couple of years ago. On my travels, I did a three-month stint teaching English to a camp of orphaned Burmese children on the Thai border,’ Kit explained. ‘Even though I’d seen some pretty horrific things before, this particular scenario really got to me. Most of the kids had simply the clothes they stood up in. Their parents were gone, shot in Burma or escaped into the Thai countryside, desperate to find work. These kids were stranded in no-man’s land. They weren’t in a place of safety – the Thai government refused to let them in, but they’d face death if they went home. There was literally no future for them. And yet –’ for the first time, Kit’s eyes glinted with tears – ‘they were all so grateful for the smallest thing you gave them. A new football was like handing over World Cup Final tickets. Each one of them had hopes and dreams for the future, even if they had none. They didn’t give up on life, even if life had given up on them.’ He wiped his eyes harshly. ‘It’s a cliché, I know, but seeing those kids, who’d suffered the kind of pain in their short lives that I couldn’t even begin to imagine, yet still arriving each morning with smiles on their faces and anticipation for the day ahead … it gave me the kick up the backside I needed. To put it bluntly,’ he added, ‘I realised I was a self-indulgent shit, who’d wasted the past ten years feeling sorry for myself. If these kids could look to the future
and
, more importantly, still trust in the goodness of human nature, then surely, with the advantages I’d been given, so could I?’

They sat in silence, deep in their own thoughts.

‘When I was little,’ Julia eventually cleared her throat and spoke, ‘my mother told me about the “Glad Game” in a book called
Pollyanna
. You have to think of what you have, not what you don’t. It’s trite and simplistic, I know, but it’s true.’

‘Yes, it is. That’s exactly how those Burmese kids looked at life.’ Kit smiled suddenly. ‘Blimey, we’re a right pair, aren’t we? Although you’ve had such –’ Kit searched for the words – ‘dignity throughout. Yes,’ he confirmed, ‘dignity. And I’m sorry if my recent actions have added to your distrust of human nature. I swear I’m not what you thought I was. Believe me, I was trying to protect you.’

‘It’s okay, Kit. I do believe you, really,’ said Julia, surprised to find that she did.

‘You see?’ shrugged Kit. ‘There’s the difference between you and me; in the old days, I wouldn’t have been generous enough to even listen to an explanation. I was looking for an excuse to push them away. I promise, I’m different now. Especially with you, Julia.’

‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. You cared for Annie too, when she needed you.’

‘I think I’m improving, yes. At least …’ Kit paused and looked at her, ‘it’s the first time I’ve actually wanted to race round to a woman and explain my actions, before she sailed off into the French sunset.’

‘I appreciate it, Kit.’

‘Are you really leaving, Julia? I don’t want you to. I really don’t,’ he blurted out suddenly.

There was a pause as Julia digested what Kit had just said. She felt suddenly hot and uncomfortable.

‘Don’t, Kit, please don’t,’ she whispered. ‘I … can’t cope.’

‘Mistrust has crept in, hasn’t it? Because of Annie and the baby?’

‘Sorry,’ Julia muttered.

‘Christ!’ Kit stood up and paced about the small room. ‘Bloody typical! The first time since Milla that I actually
feel
for a woman, and look how I’ve managed to mess it up. Sorry,’ he waved an arm at Julia, ‘what did I tell you about my tendency to self-indulgence? Apologies, but look, Julia, I have to tell you this …’ Kit was still pacing, faster now, his words tumbling out. ‘I have to tell you I think I’m in love with you. I knew it when I was looking after you and not resenting it at all. I loved the fact you needed me, after all these years of running in the opposite direction from any woman that did. And it felt – amazing!’

Kit smiled at her then, such an open smile of genuine joy that Julia wanted to react spontaneously and throw herself into his arms. But she stopped herself. Neither of them was a teenager, embarking on their first taste of romance. They were both at least a third of the way through their life’s journey and damaged irreparably by it.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Kit was there first, into his stride.