Lifesaver (19 page)

‘Max and I were making pretend stained glass,’ Adam said, gesturing towards some sheets of plastic daubed with splodges of paint. ‘You have to let it dry for twenty four hours, then it peels off and you can stick it on windows and things.’

‘But mine didn’t come out right,’ Max contributed. It was the first time he’d volunteered anything to me in conversation, and his words were music to my ears.

‘Why not?’

He actually took my hand and dragged me towards the table. ‘Look. Dad did his OK but I couldn’t make the pen get the paint out straight, it comed out in all blotches.’ He stuck a finger into one of the creations, smudging it further. ‘Not dry yet, Dad,’ he called.

‘I think that one’s lovely,’ I said, trying to work out what the blobs of red paint were meant to represent.

‘It’s a apple,’ he said, shooting me a sideways look which told me he knew exactly what I’d been thinking. He was smart, I thought, with unwarranted pride.

I knew I’d go to sleep that night with the memory of that small hand in mine. The perfection of his fingers and the sticky touch of his skin made me happier than anything had for a long, long time.

‘Cup of tea?’ asked Adam. ‘Or would you prefer something stronger, for the shock—a brandy; or a glass of wine, if it’s a bit early for the hard stuff? There’s some white in the fridge.’

‘Well,’ I said, thinking about the drive back. But I didn’t need to leave for a while—hopefully, I wouldn’t have to leave for a while—and I
was
still feeling pretty shaken. ‘Wine would be nice, if you’re having some too.’

‘Oh, any excuse,’ said Adam, going through to a narrow kitchen and opening the fridge. ‘It’s good to have company.’ Then he seemed to remember the circumstances under which I’d come to be in his house. ‘So, what happened out there? They didn’t hurt you, did they? I’d always thought they were harmless enough until now. Bunch of little shits.’

‘Da-ad!’

Adam clamped his hand over his mouth in mock shame. ‘Sorry, Max. Anna, would you like to come through? Our back room’s a little bit more civilized.’

Reluctantly leaving Max at the table, where he was switching on a computer, I followed Adam out to the kitchen. ‘No, they didn’t hurt me. The knife was all part of the act. I’m sure they wouldn’t have used it. But I probably would have ended up handing over my purse though, just in case.’

I got a steely chill in the pit of my stomach just thinking about the flash of that knife. ‘I really am grateful to you,’ I said, abruptly.

‘It was nothing,’ Adam replied. ‘They know that I know where they live, so they wouldn’t have dared try and get nasty with me. The tall one and that one with the tattoo are brothers. They live in a flat with their mother at the top of the road. I’m just wondering if I should tell her, or maybe we should go to the police instead? It might be simpler—the mother’s a piece of work, really, and I’m not sure if I want the aggravation of trying to complain to her.’

I was horrified at the thought that I’d caused aggravation to Adam; not to mention the idea of the police interviewing me, possibly with Adam present. Lying to him about my name and address was one thing, but to the police was quite a different matter.

‘Oh, don’t, please. Honestly, it’s fine. I’m fine. Nothing was taken. They were just trying it on. And I really don’t want to go through all the palaver of involving the police, or for you to get a load of grief from this woman either.’

‘They shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it. I wish I’d given them a good kicking to make sure they never try it again.’ Adam sounded quite vicious. I couldn’t imagine him giving anyone a good kicking, although he was certainly strong enough to. It was distinctly at odds to the idea that I had of him as a superannuated hippie.

He poured two generous glasses of wine, re-corked the bottle and put it back in the fridge. ‘Cheers.’

‘Cheers,’ I replied, accepting one of the glasses and taking a large swig. ‘Oh, that’s better.’

‘It’s a shock, isn’t it, being mugged. Happened to me once in India. These two men pulled a knife on me, too, but they meant business, so I just handed it all over—cash, passport, everything. Took me days to get it all sorted. But at least I wasn’t hurt.’

Adam gestured for me to come through the kitchen and sit down with him at a small pine table in a conservatory tacked on the back of the house. It was tidier than the front part, but the table had more rings than Tiffany’s, and when I rested my elbow on it, it came away astonishingly sticky. It was patronising to say that the place lacked a woman’s touch—better perhaps to say that it lacked a cleaner.

‘It’s a good thing you came along,’ I said, trying discreetly to rub the stickiness off my arm with a moistened finger. ‘I was about to do something that I heard you were meant to do when being attacked by a group—throw your bag as high in the air as you can, because it surprises them. They’ll look up at the bag, thus giving you the opportunity to leg it. But I’ve never been quite convinced that this would work, so I’m kind of glad I didn’t try it.’

I had a sudden, awful vision of the scenario had I actually done that. My handbag, looping slow-motion circles skywards, disgorging all its contents to rain down on Hardcourt Road: loose tampons, lipsticks, tissues, keys, face powder, old bendy sticks of chewing gum—and worse, the map with Adam’s address on it, and my documents stating that my name was Anna Sozi. All of which would have been lying in the road for Adam to come along and find. And where would I have been? I’d have run off and hidden, safe, but with absolutely none of my personal belongings, and my cover well and truly blown.

‘Actually, you know, the more I think about it, the more ridiculous that idea is. I mean, you might as well just
hand
the bag over to them, mightn’t you? If you chucked it in the air and ran away, they’d have got what they wanted in the first place, wouldn’t they—your credit cards, car keys and money.’

Adam laughed. He bent down and picked up half a wizened carrot from the floor under the table, and lobbed it with deadly accuracy from where we sat, right through the archway to the kitchen and into the sink. ‘True. Mind you, I think I’ve heard that theory myself. I think actually it’s more of a strategy if they
aren’t
muggers, but are threatening physical violence on you for other reasons. It’s definitely got that element of surprise.’

‘Rapists, you mean,’ I said. ‘But you don’t often get gangs of rapists, do you?’

‘No, you don’t, thankfully.’ He paused. ‘Well, this is a cheery conversation, isn’t it?’

I knew what was coming next, and concentrated on a close inspection of Max’s drawings on the fridge door, which I could see through the archway. They all featured people with arms coming straight out of the sides of their heads, and vertical lines at the bottoms of their legs which I thought at first represented grass stalks, but then realized must have been toes. Four separate lines, not joined to anything else, and then a large round circle for the big toe. Still, they were better than Crystal’s efforts. At least you could tell they were meant to be people.

‘So, what brings you to these parts, anyway? You live in Wealton, don’t you?’

‘I was just enquiring about getting something framed,’ I said, as nonchalantly as I could.

‘Yes, they’re great, those framers. I’ve used them myself, quite a bit.’ Luckily Adam didn’t ask what I was having framed.
Oh, just imaginary photos of my unborn children…

‘I’ll miss the project, when it’s finished,’ I said, to change the subject again.

‘I know. It’s been really successful,’ he replied with pride. ‘The contractor who’s redoing the underpass by the station is coming to collect the panels on Friday. I think I’m going to organise a night out for everyone who’s been involved, to celebrate. A pizza or something. I hope you’ll consider coming?’

‘Of course, I’d love to,’ I said, although I couldn’t see much to celebrate. Just when I had a chance of getting to know Max, it would all be over.

‘Daddy, I’m hungry,’ said Max from the archway. He smiled at me, and I wanted to stay there forever.

Adam leapt up. ‘Sorry, honey, aren’t I a terrible father? Sitting here drinking wine when it’s your tea-time. Fish-fingers and spaghetti hoops sound OK?’

‘Fine,’ said Max, putting his thumb in his mouth and leaning against the wall. He looked tired, and I instantly began to worry: was he all right? Were those violet circles under his eyes normal, or signs of something sinister? Adam, however, seemed unperturbed.

‘Excuse me while I put some tea on for this poor child,’ he said, extracting a blackened greasy grill pan from the oven and fishing a box out of a freezer compartment in dire need of defrosting. The box was covered with such a thick layer of snowy ice crystals that it was impossible to tell what was inside, but Adam seemed to know. He upended the box on the kitchen counter, and one fish finger plus a lot of orange crumbs fell out.

‘Damn, only one left. We live on fish fingers. I’m not much of a chef,’ he confessed. I was horrified—Max couldn’t live on fish fingers! He needed wholesome, home cooked food, free from salt and preservatives, busting with vitamins. I had to bite my tongue to stop myself interrogating Adam as to whether Max got enough fresh vegetables.

‘Not that he’d eat anything else if I did cook it,’ he continued. ‘He only likes pizza, eggs, sausages, chicken nuggets, and chips, of course, don’t you, mate?’

‘And cheese. And bread. And yogurt. And biscuits. And apples, and pasta,’ Max added.

Almost identical to Crystal’s diet, then, I thought. Anyway, Max didn’t look under-nourished.

‘Do you like pasta with tomato sauce?’ I asked, an idea forming. Crystal ate yards of spaghetti, but only with butter and cheese on it, ‘nothing runny.’

Max nodded.

I stood up. ‘Well, it just so happens that I make a pretty mean home-made pasta sauce,’ I said casually. ‘Shall I cook it for you—both of you, if you like? Seeing as there’s only one fish finger left. It could be my way of thanking you for saving me back there.’

‘Well… said Adam, stroking his beard and gazing at a spot on the ceiling.

Both Max and I held our breath. ‘Oh please, Daddy, let Anna stay and make my supper,’ Max plucked his father’s arm and I could have floated up to the ceiling on wings of delight.

‘Wow, he really is tired of your cooking,’ I said, laughing, although I came back down to earth with a bump when I became aware of Adam’s real hesitation. Perhaps I’d misjudged the situation—what if he had a girlfriend coming over later? Hardly ideal for her to find another woman in the kitchen.

‘I’m afraid we probably don’t even have the ingredients,’ he said eventually.

‘You could go to the shop, Daddy!’ Bless him, I thought, what a star. But that only made Adam seem even more uncomfortable.

‘No, honey, we’ve just got in.’ He turned to me. ‘It’s a lovely idea, but I don’t really want to drag Max out again.’

Belatedly, I got it. He didn’t want to take Max, but he wanted even less to leave him in the house with me, when he didn’t really know me from, well, Adam. I’d got carried away with myself. All the hours of daydreaming about getting to know them had given me a false sense of intimacy with them both when, in reality, I’d only met Max once before and just spent a few hours making a mosaic with his father. For all Adam knew, I could be planning to abduct Max, or worse.

Or perhaps he really just didn’t want me to stay to dinner… I felt torn. It that was the real reason, then my offering to go to the shop wouldn’t make Adam feel any better about it. But if I
didn’t
, then that was it anyway. I decided that I had nothing to lose except my pride. I’d offer, and if he still turned me down, that would be the end of it.

‘I’m happy to nip out to the shops,’ I said, cringing at how desperate I sounded. ‘If you’d like me to cook, that is.’

‘Well, if you’re sure,’ he replied. ‘I really don’t want to impose on you.’

‘It would be my pleasure, honestly,’ I said, looking into his eyes but wishing I was looking into Max’s. Might as well go for it, I thought, it’s my last chance. ‘I mean, I’d love to get to know you both a bit better. There never seems to be a chance to chat properly at the hall, does there?’

I waited, every muscle tensed. The pause seemed to last an eternity.

Eventually Adam smiled. ‘So, we have nothing in the fridge except a couple of onions and a bit of old garlic. I’m afraid you’ll have to get everything else. My big shopping day is tomorrow.’

‘No problem,’ I said, imagining myself floating back up to the ceiling like an escaped helium balloon, my head bumping against the beaded lampshade . ‘Where’s the nearest food shop?’

‘Tesco Metro on Shaftesbury Road.’

Oh no. Would Shaftesbury Road be on my map? Was it a walk, or a drive? I grimaced. Did Adam think it strange that I had to ask where the nearest shop was? ‘Sorry, Adam, remind me—I’m quite new round here. Shaftesbury Road?’

‘End of the street, right, and right again. The main high street. It’s a five minute walk, but I’d take the car if I were you. Just to be certain you, er, aren’t hassled again.’

The thugs. I’d forgotten about them. ‘Oh. Yes.’

‘Shall I walk you out to your car? Max, you stay here, I’ll be back in a second.’

So Adam escorted me across the road again, and I drove off to buy supper for him and Max, as if it was something I did every day. When I looked in the rearview mirror, Adam was standing in the middle of the road, waving cheerfully at me.

As I wandered around the fresh bread scented Tesco’s, I couldn’t shake a strange dreamlike feeling that they
were
my family, and I would be making pasta sauce for them, before tucking Max into bed and settling down in front of the TV with Adam. Bloody hell, I thought euphorically. That’s too weird.

In the carpark, once I’d dumped the bag of groceries on the front seat of the car, I dialled Ken’s number. His office phone went straight to voicemail.

‘Hi darling. Listen, someone from the mosaic workshop’s just asked me if I could take care of their little boy this evening, so it looks like I won’t be back until quite late. I know you’re out, but just thought I’d keep you posted anyway. See you back at home. Love you. Bye.’