Fine Lines

Chapter Twenty

That was the last I saw of the Thornby woman. I half-expected her to try and sue me over the car accident now, possibly producing some newly found ‘witness’, or a delayed injury. But nothing of the sort happened. The claim continued to go through without a hitch.

By a day or two after the meal I had recovered enough to feel relieved that at least she would not be pestering me again. The memory of the awful night was still painful, but only when I thought about it. Consequently, I avoided doing that. Soon the incident was shelved safely away, causing only the faintest twinge if something happened to remind me. And then I heard news that wiped even this from my mind.

Anna was coming home.

I received another postcard, saying that she would be back at work the following Monday. It was only brief, but the tone seemed much brighter than the first. Like clicking a switch, I came to life again.

The next few days were both a pleasure and a torment. Knowing that Anna would soon be back made even the most mundane act enjoyable, but at the same time the wait was unbearable. By the weekend, I had worked myself up to such a pitch that I felt ill.

On the Monday morning I went to the gallery early. I bought a bunch of flowers for Anna, and tried to occupy myself by making sure that everything was neat and tidy for her arrival. When I had finished there was still a half-hour left to fill. I sat down and watched the clock. The two-month wait was approaching its final minutes, and passing more slowly with each one.

Then, just before nine o’clock, I heard the ching of the bell as the door opened, and suddenly Anna was there.

“I’m back!” she said, grinning.

“Anna!” I could think of nothing to say. “You look wonderful!”

She did. There was no sign of the pale, lifeless girl I had said goodbye to. Her skin glowed with a warm, golden tan and her hair, tied loosely back, shone bronze from the sun. She looked fit and healthy, and more beautiful than I had ever seen her.

“Thank you. A month in the sun does wonders.” She kissed my cheek. My flesh felt seared. I breathed her familiar fragrance, complimented by the underlying smell of suntanned skin. “Have you managed to cope without me?”

“Limped along with the help of a somewhat retarded temp. How was Tunisia?”

“Hot. And pretty boring after the first two weeks.”

“It certainly doesn’t seem to have done you any harm.” I could not stop smiling. It’s good to see you. Oh, and I bought you these.” I produced the flowers, a little self-consciously.

“Donald, they’re lovely! Thank you!” She laughed. “I’m the one who’s been away. It’s supposed to be me who brings you a present. Speaking of which...” She rummaged in her bag and came out with a tissue-wrapped object. “I’ve brought you a bottle of the local plonk. It’s awful, but you’ve got to bring souvenirs back, haven’t you? And I got you this, as well.”

She handed me a small parcel. “I found them by accident,” she said as I unwrapped it. “We got lost one day, and ended up driving through this tiny little village in the middle of nowhere. An old man was making them.”

The paper came off. Inside was a hand-carved wooden statue of a woman. It was crudely but skilfully done, and while it was not particularly to my taste, I had to admit it was still quite a beautiful little thing.

“They were all different, but she was my favourite,” Anna said. “I hope you like it. It’ll be difficult changing it if you don’t.”

“It’s lovely. Thank you.” Even if it had been the most tasteless piece of junk, I would probably have felt the same way. It was a gift from Anna, and therefore priceless.

“It’s for being so considerate. You know.” She seemed embarrassed. So was I. But touched.

“You didn’t have to bring me anything. But thank you, anyway. I’ll give it pride of place. And thank you for the plonk, as well. I was going to suggest opening it this afternoon, but if it’s as bad as you say, perhaps that wouldn’t be such a good idea.”

“Not if you value your stomach lining.”

“In that case I’ll save it for someone I dislike.” Zeppo, perhaps. I hesitated, awkwardly. “How are you feeling now?” I felt I had to ask.

She nodded, reassuringly. “I’m okay. Mum and dad were right about getting away. It was what I needed. But I’m all right now.” She smiled at me to confirm it, and suddenly her eyes were filling up. She gave a shaky laugh and wiped them. “Well, almost. Sorry.”

“No need to be.”

“I was determined I wasn’t going to do that, too.” She gave them a final wipe.

“You don’t have to apologise.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m going to burst into tears at the drop of a hat, that’s all. I’m over that now.”

“It’s all right, really.”

“I’m just a bit edgy after going back to the flat last night. Everything was just the same, and I thought...” Her eyes filled up again. “Oh, bugger.”

I offered her a handkerchief, but she shook her head. “No, I’m all right now, thanks. It’s just getting used to being back, that’s all. It’s a bit harder than I thought.”

“You shouldn’t expect too much of yourself. You can’t rush these things.”

“No, I know. It wasn’t so bad while I was away, but now I’m back everything’s... everything’s still here, you know? Nothing’s changed.” She took a deep, uneven breath. “It’ll be better when I’ve cleared away the rest of Marty’s things. It was a bit too much like walking into a shrine last night, with everything of his still there. It was as though he was going to walk in any second.” She shrugged. “I know that’s not going to happen, though. I know I’ll probably never even find out what happened to him, but that’s something I’m going to have to learn to live with. And the sooner I do, the better.”

She gave me a rueful smile. “That’s the theory, at least. It seems easier said than done, doesn’t it?”

“I think you’re doing remarkably well.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” She straightened, sniffing away the last of the tears. “Anyway, now I’ve got that out of my system, how about a cup of coffee?” She smiled, more convincingly now. “I promise not to spill it on you this time.”

That was the last time Anna broke down in front of me. Over the next few days I occasionally had the impression that her cheerfulness was only a facade. But it was in my interests as much as hers for me to let it go undented. I let a week pass to give her time to settle in and get used to being back.

Then I called Zeppo.

I planned to re-introduce him gradually, over a period of weeks. Zeppo, however, had other ideas. Even so, their first meeting went smoothly enough. It was at the same restaurant where we had ‘accidentally’ met him before, and he behaved perfectly. I noticed with satisfaction that Anna seemed genuinely pleased to see him.

“You look great,” Zeppo said to her. “Where was it? Tunisia?”

“That’s right. And you look as if you’ve been away yourself. Don’t tell me you got that colour here.”

Zeppo was indeed looking very tanned and fit. The two of them went well together. I was suddenly conscious of my own flaccid pallor.

“No, I’ve been doing a shoot in the Caribbean,” he said. “Two weeks on Dominica. It was hell.”

“I can imagine.”

I said nothing. Although I had not seen Zeppo since the night I had thrown him out of my house, I had spoken to him several times during Anna’s absence. If he had been to the Caribbean recently, he had taken his telephone with him.

“So. How are you now?” He put a slight inflection of concern into his voice to let Anna know what he meant. Anna acknowledged it with a smile and a nod.

“Okay, thanks.”

I was surprised at his tact. And more than a little relieved. When I had spoken to him the night before, I had warned him that Anna was still not over what had happened. He had been less than understanding.

“Don’t worry. Once she gets my hand in her pants she’ll feel much better,” he had said.

I knew he was only baiting me, but I still did not entirely trust him, I did not want him pushing Anna too quickly, either when I was there or, even worse, when I was not. But that afternoon he gave me no cause to complain. He behaved perfectly, and made no overtures towards her that I was aware of. He stayed for the half-hour we had agreed and then, with a glance at his watch, made his excuses.

“Call into the gallery now you’re back,” I told him.

“I might drop in later this week,” he said, and left.

Later that week turned out to be the next day, as we had arranged. I made a show of pleasant surprise when he stopped by for a coffee, hiding my annoyance that he was an hour late. But when he appeared the following day as well, my surprise was as genuine as Anna’s.

“Is there any particular reason for this ad lib? Or are you just enthusiastic?” I asked, when Anna went to deal with a client.

“A bit of both. The girl I was supposed to be seeing tonight’s gone and broken her arm, the silly bitch. So I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone and take Anna out instead.” Zeppo smiled at me, slyly. “With a bit of luck this could be the big night. A quick drink, a nightclub, and then back to my place and fuck her brains out.”

For once his deliberate crudeness slipped by me almost unnoticed. I tried to conceal my sudden panic. “Don’t you think it’s a little premature?”

He smirked. “I think that’s the last thing you’ve got to worry about.”

“But she’s only been back a week. And she’s still not over Marty yet.”

“So this’ll take her mind off it. After the first ten minutes she won’t even be able to remember his name.” He frowned. “Why are you looking like that? Come on, Donald, this is what you’ve wanted, isn’t it?”

“I still think it’s too soon.”

“Is it hell. A bit of tender loving care is exactly what she needs. A sympathetic ear. A shoulder to cry on.” He grinned. “A nice, stiff cock.”

I felt my mouth compress. I shook my head. “No.”

“No? What do you mean, “No”?”

“I mean exactly that. I would have thought it was simple enough for you to understand.”

Zeppo stared at me. “Well, you’ll have to excuse me for being stupid, but I’m afraid it’s not. Ridiculous as it seems, I was under the impression that you wanted me to get her into bed. So why start dragging your heels now?”

“I’m not. I simply don’t see any point in spoiling things by rushing. When we’ve spent so much time over this so far, I don’t think waiting another week or two is going to make any difference.”

He was still looking at me. “You’re being shifty, Donald. Is there something I should know? Because if there is, you’d better tell me.”

I tried not to seem evasive. “Of course there isn’t. I just think we should give her a little more time to find her feet, that’s all.”

“Not much point when I’m going to sweep her off them, is there?” His witticism seemed to please him. He gave an exaggerated sigh and shrugged. “But you’re the boss. Your will is my command. I will not fuck Anna tonight. Happy now?”

Relieved, at least. “Yes, thank you.”

“Am I still permitted to actually take her out? Or is that forbidden as well?”

I took a deep breath and plunged. “Actually, I’d rather you didn’t.”

It took the wind out of his sails. But only for a moment. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Donald! What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing’s the matter with me. I just—”

“Just what? Do you want to carry on with this, or not? Because if you don’t, say now because I’m not pissing around indefinitely!”

“No one’s asked you to. I’m merely saying that I don’t want you seeing Anna alone at night yet.”

“Why not, for Christ’s sake? She’s a big girl! She’s over eighteen! Are you frightened I’m going to drag her into an alley and rape her, or something?”

“Would you mind keeping your voice down?” I hissed. “She’s only downstairs. And yes, the thought had crossed my mind.”

He sagged back in his chair. “I don’t believe this. Do you really think I’m that desperate? You can’t be—”

“I’m afraid I am. Perhaps you serious won’t actually drag her into an alley, but I’m well aware that one thing can lead to another. Particularly at night, after a few drinks. And I’ve not gone to all this trouble and expense just to have you walk in one morning and tell me it “accidentally” happened the night before. I’ve already told you I want to know before the event, not afterwards.”

Zeppo laughed incredulously. “What would you like, an announcement in The Times?”

“No, just to know when it’s going to happen.”

I waited. If Zeppo pressed further, I would have to tell him the rest. And I was not ready for that just yet. But I was saved by his own malicious brand of humour. He smiled, sadistically superior.

“It? What do you mean by “it”, Donald?”

“You know very well what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I do. You’ve got to learn to be more specific. By “it” do you mean when I fuck Anna? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything. And I’m not going to play juvenile games. You know what I’m talking about.”

He was grinning. I could feel my face beginning to burn. “Why don’t you say “fuck” if that’s what you mean? Or “shag”. Or “screw”, if you’d rather. Of course, if you wanted to be old-fashioned you could always just say “making love”. Not that love has much to do with it very often. But even that’s better than “it”, don’t you think?” His grin was broadening. “Come on, Donald, be a devil. Say what you mean. They’re only words.”

“I’ve already said all I intend to.”

He chuckled. “You really are a prissy bastard, aren’t you? All right, Donald, if it’ll make you happy, I won’t take Anna out after six o’clock without a chaperone.”

He looked condescendingly pleased with himself. But for once I did not mind. His baiting had not upset me half as much as he believed. It had distracted him from what could have been a much more uncomfortable line of questioning, and for that I was grateful.

“If you’re so keen to start seeing her at night, I suggest the three of us could go out somewhere,” I said. Still mellow, Zeppo shrugged.

“Now why was I expecting that? Okay, Donald, if you want to be a gooseberry, that’s up to you. Just name the day.”

“Thursday’s convenient for me. I don’t think Anna’s doing anything then. Is that all right for you?”

“I’ll make a date in my diary. What sort of scintillating evening do you have in mind? How about a nice, racy strip joint? Or would you rather just go clubbing?”

I ignored him. “The Ballet Rambert’s in the West End this week. I think I should still be able to get tickets. You do like Prokofiev, don’t you?”

“Love him to bits. I can’t wait.” Zeppo raised his eyes skyward. “The ballet! Jesus wept!”

After that, I knew I could not put off telling him the rest for much longer. Yet I still avoided it. It was not just cowardice. Now the denouement was almost here, I was no longer in any hurry. The anticipation was almost pleasurable enough in itself. I wanted to savour it for as long as possible. And so I dallied, postponing the inevitable and miserly eking out the last days of Zeppo’s ignorance.

The three of us now began to go out more often. Usually it was only for a drink straight after work Anna seemed glad to put off going home but occasionally we would go to the theatre, or a restaurant, and spend the whole evening together. For me these were the best of times, golden-hued and perfect. I could even, letting myself believe his act, forget my dislike for Zeppo.

Only once was there a sour note. We were in a pub one evening, when someone came up to the table.

“Anna! What are you doing here?”

I looked up at the young man who had spoken. Anna beamed tat him. “Oh, hi, Dave. I might have known I’d find you in here. Liquid dinner again, is it?”

“You’ve no need to talk. I bet that’s not lemonade you’re drinking.”

Anna grinned. “That’s different. I’m here with my boss, so it’s allowed. This is Donald,” I smiled hello. “And Zeppo.” She made no attempt to qualify who Zeppo was.

“Are you still okay for tomorrow night?” the newcomer asked. Anna nodded.

“Eight o’clock. I’ll be there.”

He grinned. “Great. I’ll see you then.” He nodded towards a group at the other side of the pub. “I’d better get back. It’s my round.”

He smiled once more at Zeppo and I, and then left. I sat stiff-backed. I had no idea who he was, but his easy familiarity with Anna hinted at all sorts of intimacies. And she was seeing him the next night. I felt hugely, hotly jealous.

“Friend of yours?” asked Zeppo.

“Well, he’s the boyfriend of a friend of mine,” Anna said. “He’s really nice, but he drinks like a fish. Caroline that’s his girlfriend is cooking a meal tomorrow night, and it’s a dead cert he’ll be out of his head before it’s over. I don’t know how she puts up with it.”

Reassured, I made an effort to be magnanimous. “He seemed pleasant enough.”

“Oh, he is. He still will be when he’s falling over in about two hours time. That’s the only reason he gets away with it.”

Zeppo began to tell us about someone he knew who had a drink problem Zeppo always seemed to have a story for every occasion but I only pretended to listen.

My moment of insecurity had passed, but I remained shaken. The reminder that Anna still had a social life I knew nothing about was a painful one. I told myself that it was unrealistic to expect otherwise, that so long as it did not interfere with our relationship, it did not really matter. But the jealousy lingered. I did not want her seeing anyone except us. I wanted to possess her exclusively.

However, my resentment of her other friends, known and unknown, was short-lived. It could not survive without fuel, and Anna gave me none. I no longer felt that I was merely her employer. Over the next few weeks, the three of us went out together more than ever. I could almost pretend that this happy balance was permanent, and although at the back of my mind I knew it had to end sometime, that there would come a point when I would be an unwanted third party, I came to see this as something that was always reserved for some remote future. The present, where I played an equal part, seemed immutable.

The first inkling that I had become superfluous came one evening after we had been to the theatre. It had been no different to any of the other times we had gone out together since Anna’s return. I had detected no change in her attitude, to either Zeppo or myself. It was a warm night, and we had gone on to a pub with a small courtyard so we could sit outside. Zeppo was engaged in another of his anecdotes, but I was not really paying attention.

Then Anna laughed.

It was the first time I had heard her laugh, really laugh, since Marty’s disappearance, and I was not blind to the fact that it was Zeppo who had caused it. Neither was he. As he made a further quip, Anna, still laughing, reached out and touched his bare arm. It was completely spontaneous, innocent but at the same time intimate, and Zeppo’s eyes briefly flicked over to me. Then his attention was on Anna again. As he continued with his story, he put his hand on her forearm. There was nothing innocent or spontaneous about his action, but Anna did not seem to notice. Or mind.

Suddenly, I was aware that I was on the outside. For a few seconds I might as well not have been there, and I felt a sour feeling in my gut at my exclusion. The moment passed quickly — Anna was too considerate to neglect me for long — but the feeling remained. And now, aware of it for the first time, I noticed that the way she looked and responded to Zeppo was subtly different to the way she looked and responded to me. I could fool myself no longer. The time of procrastination was over.

If I had still been in any doubt, it was wiped out only minutes later. The residue of her laughter still about her, Anna excused herself and went to the toilet. Zeppo waited until she was out of earshot before leaning closer.

“Donald, old son, why don’t you fuck off home and let the two of us get on with it?”

My mouth went dry. I took a drink, stalling. “I think it would look rather suspicious if I left now.”

“Balls. It’ll just look like you’re being romantic. She’ll be grateful to you for it.” He grinned. “Almost as much as she will to me.”

I searched desperately for excuses. This was neither the time nor the place to have this conversation. “No. Not tonight.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Donald, come on! I’ve been holding back so far because you said it was too early. Well, now it’s not. If I don’t do something soon the poor cow’ll be rubbing herself against the table leg!”

“You’re disgusting!”

“And you’re an old fart. Look, do you want me to fuck her or don’t you? If you don’t, let me know now, because I’m sick of pissing around. If you do, then tonight’s as good a time as any. You wanted to know in advance, I’m telling you. So which is it to be?”

“I’m not going to be forced into—”

“Nobody’s forcing you to do anything. If you don’t want to leave now, fine. Stay. But I’m still going to take her back to my flat afterwards. Okay?”

His attitude angered me. “No,” I said, emphatically.

Zeppo balled his fists. “Jesus Christ! What is the matter with you? All right, why? Why not? Give me one good reason!”

I looked around to make sure no one was listening. “I’m not prepared to discuss it now.”

“Well, too fucking bad, because you’re going to! I’ve had enough of your little games. Either tell me why I shouldn’t screw her tonight, or I will anyway!”

“Don’t you dare!” I had actually begun to shake. Right then I wished I had never set eyes on him.

“Why not? We’re both consenting adults. Anna’s a big girl, she can make her own mind up. So how are you going to stop us?”

I was almost choking. “I’m warning you, if you do I won’t give you a penny!”

He was grinning now, infuriatingly sure of himself. “So what? At this rate I’ll be dead of old age before I get anything anyway. Besides, she might be so good I won’t be bothered about being paid.”

Abruptly, his entire demeanour changed. The sneering face became solicitous. “Are you sure you don’t want a doctor?” he asked.

I was thrown completely off balance. And then Anna appeared beside me. “What’s the matter?”

Zeppo was looking at me with a worried expression. “Donald’s got chest pains.”

“No, I’ve... I’m fine,” I stammered, struggling to come to grips with the new situation.

“Are they bad?” Anna looked and sounded concerned.

“No, really

“You’re a bit flushed,” Zeppo said. The foul-mouthed, threatening creature of only moments ago had vanished. “Do you feel out of breath at all?”

“No, I’m fine,” I said, trying to sound normal and immediately sounding breathless.

“Do you want me to call a doctor?” Anna asked.

“I’m all right, really.” I forced a smile. “It was probably indigestion. It’s gone now.”

“Perhaps we’d better go,” Zeppo said to Anna, and I suddenly realised what he was trying to do.

“No!” I insisted. “There’s no need. I feel fine. Really.”

Anna still looked worried. “I think we should go. It’s getting late, anyway.”

Despite my objections, I could do nothing to dissuade her. We left the bar and Zeppo hailed a taxi. Before I could stop him, he had given my address to the driver.

“We should drop Anna off first,” I said, desperately.

“I’d rather see you home,” she said. “I can be dropped off later

“But you live nearer.”

“I think we’d both feel happier seeing you home first.” There was nothing in Zeppo’s voice to suggest the glee I knew he would be feeling. “The sooner you get to bed the better. You’ll probably feel better after a good night’s sleep.”

There was nothing I could do. Helpless, I sat silently, aware of the occasional concerned glances from Anna. Quite probably I did not look at all well. By that time I did not feel it.

The taxi stopped outside my house, and I reached for my wallet. But Zeppo put his hand on mine, preventing me from taking any money out. “Don’t worry about paying,” he said. “I’ll get this.”

He leaned over and opened the door for me to get out. I could think of no reasonable excuse not to. His face was deadpan as Anna wished me goodnight and made me promise to call the doctor if the chest pains returned. I stood on the street as the door was slammed, and the taxi pulled away. Anna waved through the rear window. So did Zeppo. Then they turned a corner and disappeared.

Almost beside myself with anger and panic, I let myself in and poured a drink. I forced myself to give the taxi enough time to drop Anna off and take Zeppo home, and then telephoned him. My hand shook as it held the receiver. It rang hollowly in my ear, but no one answered. I almost called Anna then. But I could not openly ask if Zeppo was with her, and I could think of no other excuse to call.

I made myself wait five minutes and then tried Zeppo’s number again. Then I waited another five. And another. I had lost count of the number of times I tried, and then there was a dick as the receiver was picked up at the other end.

“Zeppo?” My heart jumped and began to race. But the voice at the other end was not the one I expected.

“Hello?” It was an old woman’s, thin and querulous. Anticlimax made me feel leaden.

“I’m sorry. Wrong number.”

“Who?”

“I’ve dialled the wrong number. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” I was about to put the receiver down, but she spoke again.

“Who are you?” Her voice was raised and feeble. I spoke a little louder.

“I said I’ve got the wrong number. I’m sorry.”

“Who did you want?”

“Someone called Zeppo. I must have misdialled.”

“Steptoe?”

I closed my eyes. “No. It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

“There’s nobody here called Steptoe.”

“No, I know. My mistake.”

“What?”

“I said I know!”

“Why’d you call me, then?”

“It was a mistake. I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

Her voice was becoming louder and more irritable. “Do you know what time it is?”

I hung up. Exasperated, I called Zeppo again, making sure to dial the right number. When it was answered almost immediately I expected to hear the old woman’s voice. But this time it was him.

My first overriding emotion was relief. But that was quickly lost in a surge of anger. “How dare you do that to me!” I shouted. “How dare you!”

“Hello, Donald. You’re not miffed about something, are you?”

I could almost see his smirk. “This time you’ve gone too far! How dare you?”

“You’ve said that twice already.”

“Where’s Anna?”

“She’s in the bedroom. Just a second, I’ll call her.”

Before I could say anything, I heard him shout, “Anna, get dressed, it’s Donald. He wants a word with you.”

I was paralysed. I tried to make myself hang up, but nothing happened. I felt hot panic as I waited for Anna’s voice.

“Just kidding,” Zeppo’s said instead. “Bet that had you shitting yourself, didn’t it?”

My legs would suddenly not support me. I sat down, trembling.

“Donald? You still there?”

“Yes.” My voice sounded weak. I tried to clutch at my anger for support. “I don’t find your sense of humour very amusing.”

“Better than not having one.” He laughed. “Oh, come on, Donald, you asked for it. It serves you right.”

I did not know which of his moods I disliked the most, sullen, aggressive, or playful. “Where is Anna?” I asked, a faint anxiety still lurking at the back of my mind.

“Safe and sound at home. We stopped off for a drink at a pub, and then I escorted her to her door. All very proper, don’t worry. I didn’t even give her a goodnight kiss.”

Reaction was beginning to set in. I lacked the energy to argue. “I trust you enjoyed your little joke?”

“Yes, I did, actually. But just think of it as a warning. Next time I won’t be joking. I’m tired of being messed around. I don’t like being treated like hired help, and if it happens again I won’t just leave Anna on her doorstep. So either tell me what you’re playing at, or you can shove your money and your pictures, and I’ll fuck her anyway. What’s it to be?”

I rubbed my eyes. I felt very tired. Suddenly, I could not wait to get him off the line. “I’ll meet you after I close tomorrow. At your flat.”

“What’s wrong with now?”

“Tomorrow,” I repeated. “I’ll tell you then.”