The Outcast (27 page)

She dropped her gloves and held his other arm, and her mouth was close to his cheek, and then he understood her. He understood her kindness.

‘. . . Lewis?’ she breathed, close to his ear.

He put his arm around her waist and kissed her and he was quite cool about making her want it. She kissed him back, grate- fully, reaching up to him.

‘Oh, don’t do that,’ she whispered, an inch away from his mouth.

He kissed her and felt still and watchful, and she pressed

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herself against him as they kissed. Then she looked up and smiled at him, very warm and pleased.

‘Now I know,’ he said. ‘What?’

‘What you wanted.’

‘That’s a beastly thing to say.’

She was insulted and he was pleased to have insulted her, and he felt hard about it and liked it. He kissed her again.

‘You don’t want me to take you out, do you?’ he said.

He could feel her heart beating against him or maybe it was his heart, beating against her.

‘. . . This is what you want—’

He kissed her again, and lifted her hair from her neck, and kissed her there, and he kept to the rules and didn’t touch her below her neck, but he could feel how much she wanted him.

‘No – no—’

‘No?’

‘No,’ she said, holding onto his arm with one hand as she reached up to him.

It wasn’t like one of those other women wanting him – this was delicate and her fingers on his arm were finding out what it would feel like, not knowing beforehand. He put his hand onto the top of her dress and held onto it and pulled her towards him, and she shook when he did it and made a little sound, a soft girlish sound that came out of her because she wanted him so badly.A button broke from the top of her dress and fell onto the ground, and he had to remember she wasn’t the sort of girl you could just have against a tree, even if she was behaving like it, even if he could have done if he wanted.Then—

‘All right. Stop now.That’s enough.’

She said it very briskly, and he let go of her. There was one

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still moment, not touching, and then she immediately got close again, as if she’d never said it, and kissed him and put her hand onto his belt buckle and held it. He wanted her badly too now, and she knew that he did, and she smiled up at him, looking into his eyes and holding onto his belt like that, with her fingers tucked inside and pressing into him.

They kissed and he felt her tongue and her parted lips, and then she opened her eyes and took her body away from him again, but left her hand, holding his belt.

She tightened her fingers.

‘We’d better get back,’ she said.‘They’ll wonder where I am.’ Lewis looked down at Tamsin’s hand on his belt.

‘Oh, sorry,’ she said, and laughed, and gave the buckle a little tug, and then took her hand away, but kept looking into his eyes. He bent down to her and she kissed him with no shyness at all and pressed herself against him and he was getting taken

over. And then she pulled away. ‘I said No. Stop it,’ she said.

He knew how to behave. He hadn’t been going to touch her. She should leave it now, though. Didn’t she see that she should leave it now?

She looked into his eyes and she smiled.

‘There,’ she said, ‘kiss me on the cheek like a brother and we’ll forget all about it.’

Lewis didn’t move. She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. She laughed. Then she kissed his neck, stroked her girlish cheek against his neck, her lips against his ear, a tiny whisper, and he heard a rushing in his head and he lost everything . . .

‘WHAT DOYOU WANT?’

He slammed his fist into the tree behind her and the pain was beautiful.

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‘WHAT – ? TAMSIN!’

The woods and the sky wheeled around him.

He was on his own again.There was faltering blackness in his head.

He couldn’t see her any more. He didn’t know how long she had been gone.

He fixed his eyes on her pale blue shoes lying in the dirt with the white gloves next to them and came back to himself, except that the roaring in his ears was still there, muffled and threat- ening. He turned away and left her things lying there.

Kit saw Tamsin running down from the woods towards the house. She saw that she was upset, and barefoot, and that her dress was open at the top. She had been sitting on the window seat in the drawing room and trying to draw the kitten that was sleeping there.The kitten wasn’t hers, and she wasn’t allowed it in the house, but it had come in and she had found it sleeping and passed the time with drawing it. She saw Tamsin come down to the terrace and stop. She saw that she had been crying. She felt dread, but she didn’t get up immediately. Dicky came out of the house and metTamsin on the terrace, and Kit pushed the window open to hear.

‘Tamsin? What’s happened? Where have you been?’ ‘Nowhere—’

‘Tell me!’

‘Daddy—’

‘Where have you been?’ ‘Lewis—’

Dicky grabbed Tamsin’s arm and pulled her along with him, and inside, and Kit heard him say,‘Tell me! What happened?’

She got up and went out into the hall. She saw Dicky pull

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Tamsin into the library with him and the door closed. Kit made herself run away from the door, and out of the house and around to the library window. She went against the wall and listened, controlling her breathing.

‘– No, he didn’t!’ ‘Look at you!’ ‘He didn’t!’

‘Why were you with him?’ ‘We went for a walk—’ ‘Why did you go with him?’

Dicky was very angry and he was shouting, and Kit didn’t think she’d ever heard him shout at Tamsin.

‘He wanted me to, and then—’ ‘Then?’

‘Well, he—’

‘What? What?’

‘Well, we were – kissing—’ ‘Look at you!’

‘He didn’t do anything.’ ‘You!’

‘Stop it!’

‘You look like a slut—’ ‘Don’t!’

‘What’s this then?’ ‘Let go – stop it!’

‘What did he do to you? What did you let him do to you?’ ‘Nothing, he was kissing me. He kissed me, that’s all.’ ‘You’re lying to me—’

‘Don’t do that! Stop that!You’re horrible.’

She heard the punch and Tamsin’s cry, and then the sound of her falling.

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She couldn’t not look. She sawTamsin on her knees with her hands to her face and Dicky standing over her. Her sister kept her hands to her face, and then Dicky was on his knees and he was crying and apologising and trying to kiss her and stroke her hair. Kit put her hand over her mouth and was sickened by her jealousy. He had never apologised to her. He had never punched her face. Her face wasn’t worth punching. She was appalled at herself.

Dicky pulled Tamsin up and took her to the sofa and sat her down. Her fingers were fluttering over her cheek and eye, where he had punched her. He went to the sideboard, near the window, and Kit went back against the wall and shut her eyes and listened as he poured a drink and tried to make Tamsin drink it, and kept on apologising and saying he couldn’t stand it. After a while Tamsin said, ‘It’s all right, Daddy’ in a clear voice, quite like herself again, and there was silence.

After a moment Dicky said,‘Better?’ ‘Better.’

‘Good girl.The boy – he took you to the woods?’ ‘Yes.’

‘And he attacked you there?’

‘Yes. He hit me, but I escaped before he could . . .?’ ‘Yes.’

There was another silence. ‘Where is he now?’ said Dicky.

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C
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Lewis had decided to walk over to the Carmichaels’ and apol- ogise toTamsin. He didn’t feel very clear in his head, but it sick- ened him that he’d scared her and he thought she should know. He’d started towards her house, but Kit had been there on the path and she had been looking for him. She was out of breath and determined, and holding the keys to Dicky’s Jaguar. She was irresistible and stubborn. She dragged him along the path to the stables behind the house that were converted into garages and when she’d pulled the cover off the Jaguar – like she was pulling the rug off a racehorse before a race – he had

looked at her, incredulous and admiring. ‘You want me to steal your father’s car?’ ‘He won’t notice. It’s just for looking at.’ ‘You’re insane.’

‘I’ll drive it myself then. I will.You can’t stop me.’

Lewis had looked at her hopeful, desperate little face and felt he had no choice about it.

‘Where are we going?’

‘It doesn’t matter, come on!’

The road was clear and light, and the car felt very good to drive and Lewis didn’t think about anything except the driving, and

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Kit played with the radio and tried to find songs she liked.They didn’t talk. Kit fiddled with the radio and Lewis felt the ease of being with her. It was the only thing he could be doing, and just right, and the feel of the car going fast and the noise of the engine and the snatches of music above it were perfect.

They went to London. He hadn’t driven into town before and they were lost at first and drove around and looked at things and then parked in Soho Square, and he turned off the engine and waited. It was very quiet without the engine noise and the wind going by.

‘I’ve never been out in London at night before,’ said Kit. ‘I should hope not.’

‘Just tea with aunts, and uniforms.’

He lit a cigarette and she pulled down the mirror and got a lipstick out of the pocket of her jeans. She wasn’t used to doing it, and although she didn’t make a mess of it, it was clumsy, the way she did it, and without vanity.

‘There.’ She turned to him,‘Is it all right?’

She had a black top on and she squashed her hair down – what there was of it – and smiled at him. He found he couldn’t say anything. He nodded. She looked down into her lap and then glanced up at him.

‘Do you quite like jazz?’

There was only one place to go.

They left the car, and the London night was hotter than the country, and dirty-smelling. Lewis forgot everything except that he was alive and that it was good to be alive, and not shut in anywhere, and the familiarity of the street was not a melan- choly feeling, but reminded him of the rush he’d felt whenever

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he escaped there before, and he thought maybe this was the right place to be.

Kit felt joy at being out with him, and on the streets, and thought if nothing else happened in her life she’d be happy.

They stopped at the corner where the club was, and there was a crowd and Lewis pushed past some people and rapped on a door.The panel slid aside.

‘Lewis. Bloody hell!’

They went inside andTony slapped Lewis on the shoulder as they went down, and Kit held his hand tightly down the steep, dark stair. It was very smoky and there were people standing on the stairs and around the bar. Lewis was walking into the past.

Kit gripped his hand and kept his shoulders in front of her, and stared. It was very busy and the crowd was noisy and moving, and it was the same as it had been, for Lewis, but still shocking because it was so full of energy and heat. Kit pressed close to him and he led her across the room to a table.

There was only one chair and he seated her and looked around for another. He saw then how thrilled she was, and he felt at home and proud to be showing his place to her. He had been twenty-six months in one prison and then two weeks more in a different kind. He was out now.

The band playing was a small jazz band, close together on the stage, and they were playing something hot and fast.There were people near the stage and people listening, or dancing, or just ignoring the music and talking.There was a couple kissing at a table, which Kit was shocked to see and had to look away from because it made her embarrassed.

Lewis put a chair for himself next to her and went over to the bar. Jack was there. Of course Jack was there.

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‘Hey, Lewis; long time, man.’ ‘Jack.’

They shook hands.

‘You won’t be looking for any trouble with that pretty girl around—’

Lewis turned around to look for the pretty girl and realised he meant Kit, who was watching the band with her chin on her hands. She felt his look and smiled at him, before looking away again. She looked beautiful, he could see that she did. If she hadn’t been Kit, and he hadn’t known she was fifteen, he would have called her a pretty girl, too. She was fifteen, though. He had been fifteen when he met Jeanie. He didn’t know how old Jeanie was. It wasn’t the same thing.

‘How you been keeping, Lewis?’ ‘All right, you?’

‘Pretty good. Gin? And the lady?’

‘No. I’ll have a beer. And a . . . Coke.Thanks.’

He took the drinks and went over to Kit with them. He sat down. Kit leaned forward and sipped her drink and then laughed suddenly and said something to him, but he couldn’t hear. He leaned towards her and she shouted into his ear over the music. She was talking fast, about whether the band had a singer, and wondering if they were from America, and that they reminded her of another band she had read about; and he couldn’t catch everything she was saying, but just listening to her was lovely because she didn’t know what he knew, and she saw it all her way, which was a good way to see things.

The set finished and the lights came up a little, and Kit sat back and looked at him, as if he’d given her the biggest present in the world. It wasn’t a look he was used to. It made him feel uncomfortable.

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‘What?’

‘Nothing—’ But she kept on looking at him.

It was odd how being looked at like that made him feel that he was someone different.

‘Well, for God’s sake, we are having a heatwave.’

Jeanie was at his shoulder. Her hand was on her hip, and most of the rest of her seemed to be on a level with his eye.

‘Hello, Jeanie.’ ‘Introduce me?’

‘Jeanie Lee. Kit Carmichael. Kit, Jeanie.’

Kit held her hand out very politely and Jeanie took it. ‘Hello there, Kit Carmichael,’ she said, and then she turned

to Lewis,‘That’s jailbait, Lewis.’

She didn’t lower her voice to say it, and Lewis saw Kit’s eyes widen.

Then she leaned down and said,‘Happy to see me?’

In a funny way he was, but he glimpsed Kit’s face as he stood up and he turned away from the table and spoke to Jeanie quietly.