Dear Marcus,
I can’t think when I last sent you an email. It feels strange. I wanted to let you know that I was thinking of you, though. I’m having a very good time out here. The Course is everywhere: in every church in Manhattan, or that’s what it feels like! I’m going up to Connecticut and then on to Boston, where I’ll be making a speech about how to be an effective Course leader. Terrifying.
I want you to know that I forgive you, Marcus. I hate what you did, but I love you. I think being away from you like this has made me realise how much we need each other. David once said to me that we were the best-matched couple he had ever met. I think he’s right and I don’t want to throw this all away because of one drunken mistake.
I wish you were out here with me, Marcus. It is cold, but the sun has shone brightly every day I have been here. The skyscrapers look beautiful in this sunlight. I am staying in the Earl’s apartment near the Frick. It’s predictably lavish, with carpets so thick that your feet disappear into them. I try to stop at the gallery every day — I want to get everything I can from this trip.
David said he might want me to stay an extra week — he’s trying to set something up at Yale. If not then I’ll be home the last week in November. Don’t be too lonely, darling.
Your wife,
Abby xxx
P.S. give me a call on the mobile Monday night your time.
Marcus read the email again and felt a hard knot of shame build in his stomach. He pictured Rebecca lying back naked on the beanbag, saw the childish amusement in her eyes as he licked his way up her leg. It seemed so long ago, though. So much had changed since then, Rebecca seemed like a character from a bizarre dream. He shut his computer and stared out of the window.
He would have to speak to Mouse. He owed it to his friend to give him a chance to explain. Perhaps Lee had given him the earrings before she disappeared, perhaps he had found them going through her possessions and was ashamed to have taken them. Marcus dialled Mouse’s mobile. There was no response. He left a message.
‘Mouse. It’s me. Listen, we need to talk. I want to hear your side of the story. Just tell me where you got the earrings and it can stay between us. No one else needs to know. Give me a call, Mouse. Please.’
Marcus hung up the phone and stretched out on the sofa. He opened up his computer again and found the article about Lee in the newspaper’s online edition. The piece contained very few facts, and hinted with many allegedlys and supposedlys and carefully hedged words that Lee killed herself because the Course was a cult that sought to control the lives of its followers. The newspaper would get a call from the Course’s lawyers, despite the careful manner in which it presented the story. Marcus read it once more and then drifted off to sleep. He woke after a couple of hours and stumbled to bed. Darwin, yawning, came too and curled up at his feet as he slept.
On Monday, Marcus kept his mobile in constant view. He found his work particularly dull that day as he trawled through further documents relating to the legal wrangle between Plantagenet Partners and the Chinese bank. The case was growing increasingly murky. It seemed to him that the hedge fund had acted recklessly and criminally, and now he was being asked to help them cover their tracks. He was surprised, when reading through one of the documents, to see the Earl’s name. He searched through the files on his computer and realised that the Earl was one of the initial backers of the shady hedge fund, and was now a non-executive director of the business. He wondered if the Earl knew the details of the case.
He could hardly muster the energy to care, though. Partly his boredom was driven by the anticipation of speaking to Abby, partly by the recollection of Rebecca’s response to his description of his life. Marcus knew that he was wasting his talents at the law firm, but the money was so good. He walked out for lunch feeling dejected, sniffing as he attempted to fight off the cold that sat threateningly behind his eyes.
Mouse hadn’t called by the time Marcus left the office at seven. Marcus went for a beer with some of his colleagues after work, then walked towards Moorgate. He made his way down into the Tube, determined to call Mouse when he came out at Notting Hill Gate. He sat on the swaying train half-reading a novel and wondering what he’d do if Mouse didn’t telephone. When he came out into the damp West London night, his answerphone alert was flashing. He dialled it as he walked towards his flat.
‘Marcus, it’s Mouse. I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier. I’m sorry about yesterday in the cemetery. I’m sorry about everything. But I can’t tell you how I got the earrings. Please just believe me, sport, I didn’t kill Lee. I’m going to go away for a while. Don’t turn your back on me now, Marcus. Please.’
Marcus listened to the message again and then saved it. He opened the door to his flat, fed Darwin, and sat down to call Abby. She answered almost immediately, her voice full of childish pleasure.
‘Oh, darling, it’s you. Your number doesn’t come up. How are you?’
‘I’m fine,’ he said.
‘No you’re not. What’s wrong?’
He took a deep breath. ‘A lot of things have been happening, Abby. To do with Lee. I don’t really know what I should. . I found her earrings, Abby. I found them on Mouse’s boat.’
‘Tell me all about it. Start at the beginning and take me through what happened.’
Marcus told her about meeting Daffy in east London and then going on to the artist’s party. He skipped over the episode with Rebecca, but then described finding the earrings in the tortoiseshell box and his pursuit of Mouse across the graveyard. Finally, he related Mouse’s answerphone message. Abby was silent for a while.
‘I believe him, don’t you?’
‘I don’t know. I stayed the night on the boat on Thursday and I just got the feeling that he was hiding something, that there was something awful that he needed to tell me but couldn’t.’
He heard the sound of traffic in the background, a police siren wailed.
‘You should talk to David. He’ll know what to do. If Mouse is going away then he won’t be at the Course on Tuesday night. Go and speak to David afterwards. I’m sorry I’m not there, darling. But I know you’ll do the right thing. I still think Lee probably killed herself. And maybe you’re looking for things to demonstrate otherwise, to take away some guilt. Get lots of sleep, my love. You sound like you’re coming down with something. And call me whenever you want.’
*
On Tuesday evening, David stood in front of the Course members, his skin grey under the spotlight, large purplish bags under his bloodshot eyes.
‘You will have read the lies printed about one of our Course members in the press this weekend,’ he began. ‘I don’t want to dignify such monstrous rubbish with anything more than a cursory response. Lee Elek is a wonderful girl and a dear friend. We all miss her very much. But she has some significant personal problems, and I believe the Course is one of the very few forces for good in her life. Let us all pray now for Lee, wherever she might be.’
After the speech, which was shorter than usual, David and Marcus played an acoustic set on stage. There were candles around their feet and David sang in his high, soft voice. Some of the girls in the front row swayed along with the music. As expected, Mouse hadn’t turned up that evening. The two discussion groups were combined and Marcus would speak to them both in the low-ceilinged crypt room.
Marcus sat and stared at the new members, aware that Sally and David were behind him, watching. His head was fuzzy, his sinuses clogged and aching. While he had tried to steer the conversation around to the evening’s topic, Being an Apostle in the Modern World, the group had only wanted to talk about Lee. One of the quiet girls spoke first, looking down at her feet, her cheeks reddening.