Thin Air (41 page)

The woman shrugged. ‘And maybe I
don’t want to tell you.’ Her smile became a grin. ‘Bye bye,
Samantha. Just you go on home, now.’ She began to retreat into the
hall-way, and then a man’s voice called out, ‘Gina, what is it?’ He
appeared behind her, wrapped in a bath robe, his hair wet.

Samantha saw the woman’s
expression become furtive. ‘Nothing,’ she said and tried to shut
the door. Samantha wouldn’t let her. She stepped forward, her hand
flat against the wooden panels. ‘You’re screwing my husband,’ she
said.

The man came forward, his face
set into a puzzled frown. ‘What the fuck is this?’

‘This woman’s mad,’ said
Gina.

‘Mad, am I?’ Samantha’s voice
had become more strident, her accent less refined. ‘How long has it
been going on? Just tell me that.’

‘Just go away.’ Gina flapped her
hands in Samantha’s direction. ‘I don’t appreciate hysterical women
accosting me on my doorstep.’

Aspects of Samantha’s wild East
End youth reared up within her. She grabbed hold of Gina by the
hair, felt the satisfying rip of roots. ‘You’re a whore!’ she
screeched, throwing Gina back against the hallway wall.

The man hurried forward and
tried to intervene, so Samantha kicked him on the shin. ‘What’s all
this about?’ he demanded as he hopped backwards. ‘Who the hell are
you?’

‘Rhys Lorrance’s wife,’ screamed
Samantha. ‘That’s who I am.’

‘Rhys Lorrance,’ said the man.
‘Gina, what the hell’s going on?’

Gina had managed to pull herself
away from Samantha, who now stood clutching only a handful of red
hair. ‘Get rid of that fucking bitch, Gus! Get rid of her!’ Gina
ran back into the flat.

The man faced Samantha. ‘Would
you mind telling me what’s happening?’

Samantha pointed a shaking
finger at the flat door. ‘You can tell
her
that I’ll be
citing her in my divorce, OK? I’ll be taking Rhys to the fucking
cleaners, so she needn’t think she’ll end up with much.’

‘That’s my partner you’re
talking about,’ said the man.

‘She’s my husband’s whore,’ said
Samantha with satisfaction. ‘She’s had him here. I know. I spoke to
him on the phone while he was here.’

The man’s face closed in like
clouds over the sky. Samantha saw jealousy there, like a bruise
beneath the skin. She knew that look in a man’s face. She knew what
came with it. ‘It’s true,’ she said. ‘It was yesterday. We’ve both
been had.’

She turned to leave and then
paused to say, ‘Oh, what’s her full name?’

‘Virginia Allen,’ said the man.
He was staring at the door to his home.

Samantha walked away. She felt
buoyant, released. She wouldn’t divorce Rhys. She wouldn’t have to.
She had a feeling Ms Allen’s affair with her husband had just
ended. Rhys didn’t like mess. He didn’t like trouble. She’d tell
him what she’d done, of course, and act hurt and upset. He’d make
it up to her.

Instead of contacting any
friends, Samantha drove straight back to Emmertame, full of
confidence. Her instincts had been right, she’d acted on them, and
now, in her opinion, the matter was closed. She was prepared for a
couple of days’ unpleasantness at home, but that was a necessary
by-product of her action.

As she’d expected, Rhys’s car
was parked outside. He’d have found out about the forced locks by
now. He might be angry, but she had enough ammunition to counter
any attack. Her break-in had been justified. Hadn’t she proved
that?

The lodge at the gate was in
darkness, and Terry’s car wasn’t there. Mrs Moran would have gone
home for the day, so Samantha would have privacy for her encounter
with her husband. She felt fired up, ready for it.

As she parked her car next to
the Mercedes on the drive, Samantha noticed the front door of the
house stood slightly open. Light spilled out into the drive-way.
Puzzled, she hurried from the car. Wind hissed high overhead, but
at ground level, the air was still. Samantha shivered. She felt
frightened. An open door onto the night was not a normal thing. She
wanted everything to go back to normal now.

Samantha reached the threshold.
She pushed the door open wider.

He lay there on the floor in the
hall, his limbs in an eerie approximation of a swastika. Blood ran
out of him in a wide, thick line, almost to Samantha’s feet. She
could tell immediately that he was dead.

Samantha was a rational,
practical person. She did not rave or weep, she did not collapse or
scream. She swore softly beneath her breath in a relentless
monotone as she knelt over her husband’s body. There was an
enormous wound in the back of his head, where the blood had flowed
from. A small, corresponding wound on his forehead suggested he’d
been shot. His chest was injured too. Her hand hovered a few inches
above his head. His eyes were opened, but filmed. Did she know this
person? She couldn’t feel anything inside. She was completely numb,
and yet some deep part of her was not surprised by what she’d
found. How could that be?

When she stood up, she felt a
bit light-headed, but was capable to making her way to the
living-room and dialling 999. Then she sat down on the sofa and
spent the time until the police and ambulance arrived crying. The
tears were silent, cleansing, a kind of release. It was so strange.
She was shocked by what she’d seen, but couldn’t feel grief.

Jay and Dex spent two days staying with
Sally Olsen. Sally said to Jay, ‘it must be like when you first
met’, but it wasn’t. Jay and Dex were completely different people
now. She could lie in his arms, breathing in that old, familiar
scent, and feel sure that she was beginning to really know him.
There were no secrets between them now. She knew he was afraid of
returning to the real world, but like her, he’d never belonged in
Lestholme, and it would never be enough to satisfy him. The
previous night, after they’d made love, Dex had said to her, ‘I’m
ready now.’

Jay’s eyes had filled with
tears. She kissed his eyelids, his forehead, his cheeks. They did
not have to repeat history. They had a different awareness now, and
could create a new life for themselves. Jay felt serene and
supremely confident. Things that had once mattered to her seemed
irrelevant. ‘It’ll be good,’ she said.

When Jay went out into Sally’s
garden on the morning of the third day, she could smell autumn in
the air. Summer would fade for Lestholme, she thought, but no doubt
in their new time they would have equally idyllic winters.

Sally came out of the house
behind her. She folded her arms and stood next to Jay on the patio.
‘You’re going to leave today, aren’t you?’

Jay nodded. ‘I think so.’ She
smiled at Sally. ‘We all have to find the place that’s right for
us.’

‘You’ll be missed,’ Sally said,
then frowned a little. ‘Funny. I’ve never noticed anybody leave
before.’ She paused. ‘It feels different here now, doesn’t it?’

Jay detected a slight note of
anxiety in Sally’s voice. ‘It’ll be better,’ she said. Although she
would not voice her thoughts, she felt that Lorrance’s influence
had gone, and the villagers might not live in quite so much of a
dream. Perhaps Lestholme would become more of a retreat, where
people could rest temporarily from the world.

‘You’ve all been good for me,’
Jay said, and hugged Sally tightly. ‘I’ve learned such a lot.’

‘You’ve affected us too,’ Sally
said.

Around lunch-time, Jay and Dex
went back to Gus’ car at the pub. Some of the villagers had
gathered to see them off. To Jay, it felt as if she’d been on a
long holiday, where she’d met friends whom she’d probably never see
again. Intense relationships can form on holidays, but they rarely
last beyond that capsule of time. The person it would hurt most to
leave was Jem. The girl hadn’t been around much for the past few
days, no doubt aware that Dex and Jay had needed time together.
Now, as they strolled to the pub, Jay looked for Jem among the
people around them. It wasn’t until they reached the car that she
saw the girl sitting on a low wall next to the road. Jem stood up
as they approached.

‘I wondered where you were,’
said Jay.

Jem smiled.

Jay realised she was going to
find it very hard to say good-bye. She hoped that within Jem some
healing process had begun to take place. ‘I’ll miss you,’ she
said.

‘No you won’t,’ Jem
answered.

‘Jem, I will!’

‘No you won’t.’ Jem took her
hand and spoke gravely. ‘I’d like to come with you. If that’s all
right.’

‘Jem! Is that all right? Don’t
be stupid. I’d love you to come.’ She looked at Dex. ‘We both
would.’

Dex just shrugged. ‘I don’t
mind.’

Jem reached down behind the wall
and picked up a battered canvas bag, which clearly contained her
entire possessions. ‘I can’t hide from what happened to me,’ she
said, ‘but I can make the decision to let it go.’

Jay nodded. ‘Well, let’s go,
then. No point in waiting.’

Jay got into the driver’s side
of the car, Dex beside her, while Jem scrambled into the back.
‘Technically, we’re car thieves,’ Jay said. ‘Do you think we’re
likely to be stopped on the motorway by police?’

Dex fastened his seat belt. ‘I
don’t think that will happen,’ he said.

They set off down the road, in
the direction the bus had taken a few days before. Villagers waved
goodbye, then drifted back to their homes. Jay felt slightly
disorientated. It was difficult to believe she was actually going
back.

‘What do you want to do when we
get back?’ Dex asked her.

She sighed. ‘First, I want to go
back to the flat. There are a few things that need resolving.’ She
glanced round at Jem. ‘What about you?’

The girl shrugged. ‘I don’t know
yet. I want to see what it feels like first.’

Jay turned a corner in the lane.
When had the trees lost their foliage? She hadn’t been watching for
the moment of transition, but it was clear they were back in the
world they’d left behind. She saw a tractor making slow progress up
a ploughed field. They had to pull in to the side of the lane to
let another car pass.

‘And what about you, Dex?’ Jay
asked. So far, he’d said nothing about his intentions.

He glanced at her. ‘I feel much
the same as Jem,’ he said. ‘How can I know yet?’ He exhaled slowly.
‘I don’t want to take up where I left off. You don’t expect that of
me, do you?’

Jay reached out to squeeze his
knee. ‘No. I don’t think any of us should do that.’

They drove into London near
dawn. Dex had taken over the driving, so that Jay could doze. Jem
had also fallen asleep for the last stage of the journey. Early
morning traffic rushed around them, the faces of the drivers intent
and faintly hostile. Jay woke first and glanced round at Jem,
perhaps to check that she was still there. She found herself
looking at a young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties.
‘Dex, she’s changed,’ Jay said.

Dex took a quick look, then
shook his head. ‘Lestholme might be a hole in time, but London’s
very much caught up in it.’

‘Perhaps she’s always been that
way,’ Jay said, ‘only we just couldn’t see it. She never stopped
growing up.’

‘We’re back,’ Dex said. ‘What
else should we expect? If Jem is to function in this world, make
contact with her relatives, she must be part of it.’

Before they turned onto the road
where Jay had lived, Dex stopped the car, so that Jay could nip
into a newsagents’ and buy a paper. She had to know how much time
had passed. The date on the paper was 28th November. She felt as if
she’d been away for months, but it was only weeks. Such was her
eagerness to discover this information, the headline hadn’t grabbed
her attention immediately. Now, she saw it, and quickly scanned the
story.

‘Dex,’ she said in a low voice.
‘What we saw was real. Lorrance is dead.’

Dex nodded slowly, but didn’t
appear that shocked. ‘OK. What’s it say?’

‘Just that he’s been shot.’ She
read the story out to him. The police had no suspects, although the
wife of the dead man had spoken about shadowy business associates
that she’d always suspected of dirty dealings. Perhaps later the
wife herself would be accused. That could happen. ‘So, who do you
think did it now?’ Jay asked Dex. ‘Charney’s mob or Peter’s?’

Dex shook his head. They had
come to Jay’s old road and he parked the car a short distance from
the flat. ‘It could be either,’ he said, ‘or even Samantha, as you
suggested, or Lacey, or Michaels, or anyone Lorrance ever damaged.
I don’t care. I’m glad he’s dead now. I really am, Jay.’

She reached out to squeeze his
arm.

Jem stirred in the back seat.
‘Are we here?’ she asked, brushing hair from her eyes.

‘You slept like a log,’ Jay
said. ‘Yeah, we’re here.’

Jem yawned and stretched. ‘I’m
stiff all over.’

Jay turned the rear view mirror
towards the girl. ‘Look at yourself,’ she said.

Jem did so, rubbing her face
with the fingers of one hand. ‘I look terrible, like I’ve slept in
a ditch.’

‘You’re a woman, Jem. A young
woman.’

Jem looked puzzled. ‘I know,
Jay. What’s the matter with you?’

Jay and Dex exchanged an amused
glance. Then Jay said, ‘Oh well, time to get this over with.’ She
opened the car door.

‘Do you want moral support?’ Dex
asked her.

Jay shook her head. ‘No, but get
out of the car. There’s a cafe down the road. You could wait there
for me.’ It was then she noticed, with some surprise, that her own
car was parked outside the flat, its flanks dull with a muddy
patina. ‘That’s mine,’ she said to Dex, pointing at the vehicle.
‘At least we’ll have transport.’

Dex paused, then said, ‘Jay, I
think we should go to Julie’s after this.’

Jay nodded. ‘Yes, that’s a
distinct possibility. But let’s take things one step at a time.’
She kissed Dex on the mouth. ‘Please go, now. Give me the car keys.
I’ll see you shortly. The cafe’s called Anna’s, it’s down there,
not far.’