‘Really?’ she said. ‘Have you got work set up after this job?’
‘Not yet,’ I said.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I’ll bear you in mind.’
‘Careful,’ said Ross, and he and Laura laughed. He looked at his watch and then at her.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Ross and I have to… you know…’
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you, then.’
As I started to get up, I looked at Laura’s friend for the first time. She had hardly spoken. She was clearly in her friend’s shadow. She had dark brown hair that she hadn’t done much with. That and her dark eyes made her skin seem pale. As I looked at her and she noticed me looking at her, the blood rushed to her cheeks. I wasn’t attracted to her in any way and suddenly I was intrigued by that. Nothing mattered, nothing was at stake.
‘Mel,’ I said.
‘It’s Melanie, really.’
‘Would you like to go and get something to eat?’ I said.
She murmured something, blushed and murmured something else, then said, ‘Sure, yes, all right.’ She stood up and I saw for the first time what she was wearing: a short-sleeved pale green top with a white frilly collar, a long white skirt and sandals, all very light, summery and girlish.
‘I’ve got to go home and shower and change,’ I said. ‘But you can come along and meet the people I live with.’
On the tube I told her about the people in the house, exaggerating things about them, so that I made her laugh. I told her that things were a bit delicate because we were all about to be thrown out. I told her about the murder and the involvement of the police and saw her eyes widen.
‘Did you know her?’ she said.
‘It’s funny, isn’t it?’ I said. ‘Murder victims are like famous people. People like to know them. Or to know someone who knows them.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean that.’
Petra Davies would have told me to reassure Melanie, to say, ‘Of course, you didn’t.’ I said nothing; I just looked at her. Suddenly I wondered if I’d made a mistake. Did I really want to spend an entire evening with this woman, then another and another until after about four we could have awkward, unsatisfactory sex?
As I opened the door at Maitland Road, I met the whole group in the hallway, with carrier-bags and bottles. They all looked at Melanie. I felt for a moment like someone bringing his first girlfriend back to meet the parents. ‘This is Mel,’ I said.
There was a rush of greetings that almost overwhelmed her.
‘Come for a picnic,’ said Astrid.
Melanie looked alarmed. ‘We were going out to eat,’ she said.
That did it. ‘Great idea,’ I said. ‘It’s an initiation rite, but I’ll protect you. Let me have a shower first.’
We were a strange group, marching over to the park. It made me think of excursions from school, walking in a crocodile, shepherded along the street. They were all there, except Owen. And Pippa was with a guy in a suit, who seemed even more ill at ease than Melanie.
As we settled down on the grass, Owen arrived, hovering around with his camera, taking pictures. I poured a plastic cup of wine for Melanie and one for myself.
‘I haven’t been to a picnic for years,’ she murmured. She moved close, her shoulder against me.
‘Ants,’ I said, ‘and nowhere to sit properly. You can’t hold your food and drink at the same time.’
‘I like it,’ she said.
I filled her plate for her. I dipped a slice of carrot into a tub of hummus and fed it to her. I caught Astrid’s eye on me. I could see what she was thinking. Oh, how sweet, little Davy’s found a girlfriend. Still, at least I was showing them I wasn’t some weird loner. I was stroking Melanie’s hair when I sensed someone beside me. Astrid. I looked at Melanie. ‘Will you excuse us?’ I said.
‘Oh, all right,’ she said, and edged away to sit on her own, pretending to sip at her wine.
Astrid moved close to me and spoke in what was little more than a whisper. I thought of Melanie looking at us. She probably thought we were ex-lovers. Astrid was in a bit of a state because she’d been questioned again by the police. At first I thought she might have suspicions but I discovered she had a dim memory that someone else had been on the step when she had her accident. I forced myself to think clearly. Would it be better to tell her straight away or allow him to be a mysterious suspect dimly in the background? I was angry with myself for not thinking about this in advance. I decided to be transparently evasive on Dario’s behalf. It would muddy things up a bit but I wasn’t sure it was the best plan.
‘Maybe there was someone,’ I said. ‘But if there was, Dario’s the one you should ask.’
Astrid wasn’t fooled for a second. Or, rather, she was. So Dario’s customer would be forced into the light. The only disaster would be if he had seen Peggy follow me, but I was almost certain he’d scarpered before then. Astrid had clearly been brooding on matters because now she turned her attention to Pippa, claiming that Jeff should come forward and tell all. It was funny to see Pippa squirming, like a beetle with a needle pushed through it.
‘It’s not really a good idea,’ she said.
It wasn’t part of my strategy, but I couldn’t resist it. ‘Married, by any chance?’ I said. She gave me an angry look but I returned it blandly.
‘It would be awkward,’ she said.
The evening turned golden, the shadows lengthened. I watched Astrid and Owen and it seemed to grow colder, and then Miles arrived and started to moan about the events he had set in motion, and it felt colder still. The magic had gone and people stirred and gathered together the stained, sticky remnants of the picnic. As we walked back, I thought about what was to come and whether there was anything I needed to worry about.
‘I probably ought to go home,’ said a voice beside me.
I looked down. I had almost forgotten about Melanie. I shook my head. ‘There’s something I want to show you,’ I said.
We didn’t speak again until we arrived back at the house. As the rest of them headed downstairs for coffee and a smoke, I took Melanie’s hand and led her upstairs and into my room. I took her towards my bed, then placed my hands on her shoulders, positioning her just so, and looking into her large eyes. The collar of her shirt was tied with a white silk ribbon in a bow. If I could unfasten it easily, that would be proof that God wanted me to fuck her. She started to say something but I shook my head. I took one end of the ribbon and pulled. It came undone like a badly tied shoelace. I took the bottom of her shirt and lifted it over her head. She had to raise her arms to help me. I unclipped her bra and let it fall. I pulled her skirt and knickers down in a single movement. She had to lift her sandalled feet to step out of them. I sat her on the bed and pulled off her sandals.
At first, when I pushed myself inside her, I imagined that I was fucking Pippa and I pushed harder and harder, and heard Melanie cry out under me. Then I thought of Astrid. I imagined her face on Melanie’s body.
And then at the very moment I came, from the very first moment I started to come, I regretted everything: meeting Melanie, spending the evening with her, bringing her back here, having her in my bed. I felt her hands on my shoulders, her heels on the back of my thighs. She held me close inside her.
‘Davy,’ she said, after a long time. ‘I’ve never ever done anything like this.’ And then I heard a snuffling sound and saw that she was crying.
After she went to sleep I got up and went to the bathroom. I pulled up the blind and stared into the garden. Something was moving and it took me some time to make out what it was. What they were. What they were doing. I knew it. I don’t know how, but I fucking knew it. Astrid and Owen, like animals, not caring who saw them. The tick in my eye, getting stronger. I tasting something sour in the back of my throat, as if I was about to be sick.
Chapter Thirty-four