Читать книгу All the Little Lies - Chris Curran - Страница 15

CHAPTER FOUR

Eve

It was a long way to Newcastle and Eve would normally have insisted on at least sharing the driving, but this time she slept for much of the journey.

Alex had come upstairs while she sat miserably in the bathroom and tapped on the door.

‘Eve, I’m so sorry. If it’s that important to you, I’ll cancel my appointments and come with you. Let’s book a hotel for a couple of nights and I’ll get in touch with the Baltic. As an art historian I should at least be able to arrange for us to meet a curator.’

He nudged her as they approached the city. It was already dark and her eyes were dazzled by the lights. ‘We’re nearly there. Our hotel is just across the river from the Baltic.’

She sat up and shook her head. They were approaching a steel bridge flanked by two others. On the right she recognized the Tyne Bridge. The river below them was a dark mirror gleaming with reflections of city lights.

When they stopped outside their hotel Eve looked across the water. The gallery was a great chunk of a building. Over the front the massive words, BALTIC FLOUR MILLS, proclaimed its industrial past, but brightly lit glass sections at the top and sides relieved its bulk.

Eve stared hard at it almost imagining she could see the pictures inside. She’d hoped to have a look round as soon as they arrived, but the exhibition spaces must be closed by now. Alex had got them an appointment with one of the curators next morning.

Eve was still cloudy from sleep and struggled to listen as he carried on talking and pointing. ‘That’s the Millennium Bridge leading over to the Baltic. They call it the Blinking Eye.’

Eve could see how it had got its name. Hanging low over the water it really did look like the slender outline of the upper and lower lids of a wide open eye. Its two semicircles of light, the top lid lit up in blue and purple and the lower a curve of brilliant white, shone in the black glass of the river.

She smiled at Alex. ‘You sound like a city guide.’ When he looked down and she noticed his knuckles turn white on the wheel she realized her mistake, but said nothing. Alex had done his PhD at Newcastle University and it was where he had met, married and lived with his first wife, Beth. Where their children were born. Where their marriage fell apart before Beth took the children to Australia and broke contact.

‘It’s changed quite a bit since I was here,’ was all he said as he pulled into the hotel car park and turned off the engine.

He took her hand to help her out and must have realized how wobbly she was because he pulled her close. She rested her head on his chest, wanting suddenly to cry. He was very warm and held her tightly, whispering, ‘Was the journey all right? I know you hate being a passenger. And I’m not a patch on you for driving. Had a sticky moment on the M25 when that bloody Audi cut me up.’

She remembered jolting awake to see a silver flash speeding away from them and hearing Alex curse, but she had fallen asleep right after. Now she saw how anxious he must have been all these hours and one tear spilled onto her cheek. She wiped it away. ‘You did brilliantly.’

He kissed her gently on the mouth and for the first time in weeks she felt a surge of desire.

‘Let’s check in,’ she said.

When they got to their room she had to dash to the toilet. Nowadays she felt as if her bladder had shrunk to nothing. She came out to see Alex standing by the window looking over the river. It was a lovely view, but she pulled off her shoes and trousers and lay on the bed looking at him. He was tall and slim, and although he was twenty years older than her, he didn’t look it. And there was something about his back, with his T-shirt all crumpled from the long drive, that was so vulnerable it made her want to cry again. He usually seemed so calm and composed that she still sometimes thought of him as a professor and herself as a student, but today she felt almost maternal. And guilty. She had been completely wrapped up in wanting to find out about Stella Carr and hadn’t thought how coming here would stir up memories of his first marriage.

Without turning he said, ‘Shall I make you some coffee?’

‘I don’t want anything but you right now.’

He came to her and they kissed and he held her very tightly. When he moved back to look at her, his eyes shone almost gold in the light from the bedside lamp. They made love then, slowly and in silence and when it was over they lay close together, their breath coming in matching rhythms.

The next thing she was aware of was Alex brushing her hair away from her face, and she realized he was dressed and that she had slept.

‘I can’t face going out to eat, can you?’ he said. ‘Room service is a bit pricey, but I could get a takeaway and sneak it in if you like.’

Eve was too sleepy to be hungry, but knew she should eat. ‘A spicy pizza would be nice and some cold juice.’

He jumped up. ‘Just what I fancy, but with a couple of beers instead of the juice.’

Alex put the TV on for her, but she grabbed the book she was reading from her bag.

It wasn’t until she heard the music for the television news that she realized how long he’d been gone. A few minutes later he came in with a pizza box and a carrier bag. His hair was damp.

‘There was a queue, then it started pouring with rain and I had to wait in a doorway.’ He rubbed a hand over his face.

She pulled herself up straight in the bed. ‘Alex, what’s wrong.’

He had turned to the little table by the window and was unpacking the bag. ‘Oh, nothing, except some boy racer nearly knocked me into the river. Just managed to jump out of his way and, more importantly, to save the food.’ He faced her with a smile. ‘No harm done. Now let’s eat before you fall asleep again.’

Stella

The photo session turned out all right in the end. After Ben Houghton drove away and Stella saw Maggie staring down at her, she raced inside and up the stairs, but Maggie was in the bathroom. Stella tapped on the door.

‘Maggie, are you all right?’ There was no answer, so she went to the kitchen and made herself some beans on toast.

When the phone in the hall rang Maggie hurtled down wrapped in a towel. She leaned over and closed the kitchen door so that Stella couldn’t hear what she was saying. Minutes later she was slamming out the front door.

Stella had been awake for hours when she heard a hoot from outside. As she opened the front door she felt a lurch of anxiety. What if Ben did something while they were alone in the car? But Maggie, looking straight ahead, was in the passenger seat.

Stella sat in the back of the car watching Maggie nuzzle at Ben as he drove with one hand on her knee. He looked back and winked at Stella, which made her face go red.

What he had said to her yesterday – what he had done – had obviously just been to make Maggie jealous. And it turned out that the photo session was for all the artists. The four others were men. Stella knew one of them, Baz, from college and the rest were all a similar age to her and Maggie. The photographer wasn’t much older and he encouraged everyone to clown around as he took lots of snaps very quickly.

A few paintings had already been hung, and he was photographing one of the men in front of his work, when Maggie came and sat next to Stella on a black sofa.

‘It’s all right,’ she said, ‘I’ve got over it, so no need to avoid me. I know Ben only kissed you to annoy me.’ She held up her wrist to show Stella a lovely gold bracelet he’d given her. The phone call the night before had been from him and he’d come back to take Maggie to dinner and a hotel for the night. ‘We’ve been making plans,’ she said with a secret smile.

Before Stella could ask anymore David Ballantyne arrived with sandwiches and bottles of beer, and they all went out into the courtyard. One of the men, James Stone, who had dark floppy hair and a silver earring, came to sit on the stone bench next to Stella. She liked him and as they ate and drank in the sunshine she felt as happy as she had ever been. A thought came into her head. This is when my real life begins.

When he stood to leave James nudged Stella with his knee. ‘Coming?’ But Maggie called out. ‘Don’t go, I need to talk to you.’ So James waved and said, ‘See you around then.’

Stella sighed and followed Maggie back into the gallery. She whispered, ‘Don’t you want to be alone with Ben?’

Maggie laughed. ‘And miss the best bit. Look.’ She was holding a small bag and pulled out the two dresses they had worn to the preview. ‘Ben wanted a photo of me in something a bit more glamorous and we thought it might be nice to have one of the two of us together.’

When they’d changed, the photographer asked them to come back into the courtyard where he took several pictures. Then Ben appeared and said, ‘Now a few of Maggie on her own, I think.’

Maggie was trying out various poses, some sexy, some sedate and some comical, and she and the photographer were soon laughing together, so Stella wandered back into the gallery. She was looking at a picture by James and was so absorbed that she gasped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

It was David Ballantyne. ‘Sorry. I thought you heard me,’ he said. He gestured with his head and they moved over to a beautifully lit corner of the gallery where six canvases were leaning against the wall. Although only their backs were showing, Stella recognized them as hers.

‘What do you think?’ he said, and when she looked blank he smiled and added, ‘I mean how’s this corner for your work?’ He gestured towards the rest of the room. ‘It’s visible from pretty much everywhere and people will be drawn over as soon as they come in.’

It was difficult to speak. ‘It’s wonderful. The light …’ she couldn’t go on. There was a pain in her throat as she struggled not to cry at the thought of her pictures on display in such a beautiful spot.

‘You’ll be the star of the show. No doubt about that.’

All she could say was, ‘Thank you.’

He was looking away from her and fiddling with the frame of one of the canvases. ‘I want you to know I think you’re a rare talent and I’m very proud to have you in the exhibition.’

Stella was glad he left her then, muttering something about work and busy, because she had to move close to the wall to hide her tears. She was so thrilled that her heart seemed to throb. Was it possible to die of happiness?

She turned one of her pictures around. It was the first she’d done in London when she was feeling lost and homesick and was a fantasy version of the Tyne Bridge. She’d removed all the other bridges around it and painted it as if it was in the middle of jungle rather than in Newcastle. Was it really as good as David said?

‘Put that back the way you found it, young lady.’ Ben Houghton’s voice boomed out, and she automatically did as she was told. He clapped her on the back and gave his huge laugh. ‘Only joking, my darling. If anyone’s entitled to handle it, I’d say it’s you. Now will you step into my office for a moment?’ He smiled down at her, raising one eyebrow.