The English Boys (3 page)

There was a knock at the door. For a moment, he didn't move, imagining Tamsyn on the other side in one of her mad miniskirts and Aran Isle cardigans. Knowing it wasn't, he was tempted to leave it. It was probably his mother, with his father and brother in tow, worried that he wouldn't eat.

“Richardson,” came a call from the other side of the door.

Daniel recognized Marc Hayley's voice and raised a brow. Hayley was Hugh's friend, and for a moment he wondered how he had gotten his address. Then he remembered: Tamsyn had thrown a party at his flat a few months before. She'd strung lanterns from the ceiling and thrown open windows, despite the fact that it had been the middle of winter. She'd pranced about the room pouring vodka and speaking in a Russian accent all evening, acting like a prostitute trying to get someone to take her home for the night. She'd been ridiculously wonderful and his chest grew tight thinking about it.

“Richardson, are you in there?” Hayley called again.

“Hold on,” he answered. He forced himself to get up from the sofa and go over to unlock the door.

Hayley stood there with his dark, curly hair flopped down in front of his face like one of the characters he played in films. All that was missing were the breeches and boots. “What a day,” he said, heaving large breaths from running up the stairs. “What a fucking bad day. There's only one thing for it.”

“What's that?” Daniel asked.

“Getting pissed.”

He stared at Hayley for a long moment, realizing he was right. Anything would be better than sitting here choking on every small memory, even having a drink on an empty stomach with a prat like Marc Hayley.

“All right,” he said. “I'll get my coat.”

They tumbled back out into the street, where it was now dark. Shopfronts were lit, enticing buyers inside to buy their wares. It had begun to rain, and couples ambled about under umbrellas, looking in windows and talking in low voices. In fact, the whole world seemed to be going about business as usual. It was infuriating. Everything was different now. From this day on, Daniel would divide his life into two parts: Before Tamsyn, and After. And After was a place he really didn't care to be.

Four

The Duke of Marlborough
public house was just a few streets from his flat, and though Daniel hated bringing Marc Hayley there on the principle that one doesn't shit where one eats, he was too tired to think of another decent pub. Rain soaked the collar of his coat, but he ignored the insistent drizzle and walked alongside his companion, looking at familiar sights along the way for comfort on this dreary night. They passed St. Mary Abbots Church, and though he had never attended services, nor was he religious, there was something he liked about the ancient building with its tall archway and heavy wooden door. It gave him comfort when he needed peace. He sometimes walked inside the gate and sat on a bench, buffered from the bustle of the High Street. He had occasionally met Tamsyn there, bringing large cups of coffee on chilly days, and though they were hardly removed from the street, it felt as though they were in another world. A flower shop had taken up residence against one wall, with buckets of roses stowed behind the stone walkway. It was a quiet place to sit, unmolested by hordes of shoppers or the occasional rabid fan. Then there was the highly entertaining game of Fashion Disaster, when he would listen to Tamsyn rate the attire of various passersby, even while she herself wore great woolly boots with tassels and amorphous gypsy frocks. It always made him laugh, because she did it with a straight face. He once told her she frightened mere mortals.

Daniel pushed his fists harder into his pockets. Nearing the pub, he realized his mobile had been silent all day. Most of his calls lately had been from Tamsyn or Hugh. Tamsyn, in particular, had spent the last month bothering him relentlessly with wedding details. Her mother was in Wales and Carey was occupied with her studies, but Daniel knew that even if her sister could have spared the time, she wasn't the sort to worry about particulars like cake and beaded slippers and what size font was appropriate for the invitations. Hugh, meanwhile, was openly disinterested and frequently told Tamsyn “whatever you want,” a phrase Daniel had thought would serve him well once the two were married. Tamsyn didn't seem to mind her bridegroom's reticence.

“Men hate planning weddings,” she'd said once.

Daniel had laughed at the irony. “Precisely.”

Even though he hated it as much as the next man, now he was glad he had been there for her when she'd needed him most. At least he could say that.

“This is it,” he said, nodding toward the large green door in front of them. There wasn't anything special about this pub, but he liked it all the same, from the plain bar towels down to the pictures on the wall: bland images of Surrey, with sheep dotting the hillside and clouds hanging low over a green valley. The frames were non­descript and ordinary. In fact, everything about the place was ordinary, as if one were walking into one's mother's kitchen, where every glass and plate and even the cracked ceiling overhead were familiar and comforting.

Daniel glanced over at the man behind the counter who ran the place. He poured pints without ever changing his facial expression, whether it was for some of their actor friends or a group of beautiful girls. When he wasn't wiping glasses or pulling pints, he leaned against the bar, talking on his mobile to his wife. Daniel placed their order and went to sit at one of the sturdy wooden tables, studying Hayley as he did so. They didn't know each other well, though they had been thrown together now and again. At the Ashley-Hunts' house, there were a few framed photos of Marc and Hugh together when they were much younger. Occasionally, Daniel wondered if he had usurped Hayley's position in Hugh's life.

Hayley sat down beside him without removing his dripping coat, his leonine curls shaking much as they did on the big screen. He was a tall man but moved with fluidity and grace, and his Roman nose and square jaw never failed to attract attention. There was something hard about his hazel eyes. He had been successful in his acting career, but more often than not had been cast as the villain in American films. He had the perfect looks for it: good-looking enough to engender sympathy, but also cruel-looking enough to be the picture of evil when his character's true motives were revealed. One couldn't trust a man like that, Daniel thought: too self-assured, too forceful.

He waited for Hayley to begin, rather than encourage him with pointless questions.

“What a fucking awful day,” Hayley repeated, taking a draw of his bitter and sucking in the foam.

Daniel nodded, wondering why he had bothered to come. If the flat hadn't seemed so damned empty, he wouldn't have consented to be the sounding board for Marc Hayley's morbid curiosity. He realized that he didn't want to be alone, either.

Hayley looked at him from the corner of his eye. “Blasted luck for Hugh. It'll scar him for life. I keep seeing the blood on his wedding kit. He'll never get over it.”

“He's gone home with his parents,” Daniel said, not certain what else to say. “They'll look after him.”

“Yes, they'll take care of everything. But the long term. It's a nightmare. Will he even want to act again?”

Daniel put down his glass, surprised. “Why wouldn't he?”

Marc snorted. “He's just lost the woman he was going to marry. I imagine that will change everything.”

“Perhaps it will.”

“You knew the girl well, didn't you?”

“Yes,” Daniel said, wondering what he was implying.

“I only met her once. What was she like?”

“She was unique, to say the least. I've never met anyone else like her.”

“Yeah. They broke that mold, didn't they? I don't mean to malign the girl's character, but she was a bit of a one-off, if you know what I mean. I couldn't believe it when Hugh told me he was marrying her.”

“When was the last time you spoke to Hugh?” Daniel asked, trying to change the subject.

“He called me a few days before the wedding. He seemed fine.”

They sat in silence for a minute, pulling on their pints. Outside, the rain began to slam against the window and a bolt of lightning reflected on the bottles behind the bar. Daniel might have thought it an omen if the worst hadn't already happened.

“Before that,” he pursued, feeling rattled. “When had you last spoken to him?”

“I was here in February, although we email occasionally. I've been in LA doing a vampire film. They're fucking obsessed with vampires there. You can hardly get away from it. Anyway, I asked him if he wanted to try his luck there.”

“Is your film going to be released this year?”

“In a few months, if all goes well.”

Daniel understood what he meant. He'd already been involved with a few producers who were struggling to make ends meet and having difficulty getting the product into the public domain. It was a tricky business. He'd been lucky, considering the relatively short time he'd been acting, but there were plenty of others he'd known who couldn't get anything going at all. Even Tamsyn had been given her breakout role due to Hugh's clout and power of persuasion.

“And when did you meet Tamsyn?” he asked, though he had an idea.

“At one of your parties, I should think.” Hayley smirked. “I remember thinking,
Who the hell is that, hanging all over Richardson?
She hadn't targeted Hugh yet.”

“By then, they were already together. We were just friends.”

“I don't think the poor bastard knew what hit him. I mean, could she possibly have been less suitable for a man of his class? Now, you or I, that might have been understandable. But Hugh? He doesn't usually mix with the less desirable elements of society.”

Daniel ignored the multiple insults and concentrated on finishing his pint. He wanted to sit there and drink until the back of his neck went numb, then lay his head upon a table and sleep for hours. If only he could wake up the next day to find it Saturday morning all over again. Had Tamsyn truly been killed by one of the twenty-seven people the police had interviewed that day? Someone who had been brazen enough to risk being caught in front of family and friends? Did Marc Hayley have some obscure motive of his own? Had he been jealous of Hugh?

“I keep thinking we were probably in the same room as the murderer this evening,” Hayley said suddenly.

“It hardly seems possible,” Daniel replied. “It must have been someone who escaped out a window or something.”

“No. She was stabbed in the chest. That's face to face, a crime of passion. Imagine being killed by someone you invited to your wedding.”

Hayley got up and ordered another round, bringing the drinks and setting them on the table with a slosh. He was already a little drunk. “Who was the last person to see her alive? I heard someone say it was you.”

Daniel put down his pint. “That statement precludes the existence of someone else as the murderer, does it not?”

“I'm not suggesting—”

“I don't know what the hell you're suggesting, but I didn't have anything to do with it.”

“We're a bit testy, aren't we?”

Daniel tried to calm down. It was pointless getting into it with the likes of Marc Hayley. “What do you expect, after what we've been through?”

“Fair enough,” Hayley answered. “I just meant, did you see anything unusual? Did you see someone else go into that room?”

“That's what the police wanted to know.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I don't think I'm supposed to discuss it. Isn't that what they told us when we were being questioned?”

“What does it matter, if you had nothing to do with it?”

“I didn't. Just leave it at that.”

“I thought we could figure it out together.”

“You've jumped to a lot of conclusions: Hugh didn't love her, she wasn't good enough for him, maybe I had something to do with it. You don't know what you're talking about, Hayley. I think this conversation is over.” Daniel started to rise from his chair.

“Wait,” Hayley said, waving him back into his seat. “Look, I'm sorry. Really, I am. I didn't mean to imply you killed the girl.”

“Stop calling her ‘the girl,' for God's sake.”

“All right. I didn't mean to imply you killed Tamsyn Burke.”

“Then what the hell is this all about?”

“We've been through something hideous today. I want to get my mind around what happened. I suppose I just wanted someone to commiserate with.”

“Someone besides Anna Parrish?”

Hayley leaned back in his chair. “Believe me, mate. Anyone besides Anna Parrish.”

Daniel looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “The papers have the two of you as quite the item.”

“Yeah, well, don't believe everything you read.”

“But you brought her all the way from LA to attend the wedding.”

“She bloody begged me to come. Said she needed to talk to Tamsyn. Why, I have no idea.” He stretched his legs under the table. “We've had a bit of a thing, Anna and me. It's about run its course. When I made arrangements to fly to London, she insisted on coming with me. I thought she might make a pleasant diversion, but after what happened today, she's locked herself in her hotel room and hasn't stopped making calls.”

“What sort of calls?”

“I have no idea.”

“That's a bit odd.”

“Everything about this day is odd, Richardson, in case you haven't noticed.”

Daniel's mobile rang. He pulled it from his pocket and saw Hugh's name flash across the screen.

“Excuse me,” he said, rising. He walked out of the pub and huddled against the doorway of the building to answer the call. “Hugh … Are you all right?”

“I need to talk to you,” Hugh said in a low voice. “Where are you right now?”

“Standing out in the rain, actually.”

“Listen, the police have just left and they're headed straight for your flat. How fast can you get over here?”

“Depends on whether or not I can find a cab at this hour.” Daniel asked. “What's going on?”

“I'll explain everything when you get here. Come round the back and I'll meet you at the door.”

There was a click on the line and Daniel's mobile went dead. For two seconds, he debated going back into the pub and telling Hayley he had to leave, but instead he turned up his collar against the wind and whistled at a passing cab. Nothing was more important than the fact that Hugh needed him.