Our Kind of Cruelty(51)

There was still no email from V, so I sent her a quick one: Darling, is everything OK? I’m eager to hear from you. I can be there in a shot. X.

My inbox pinged almost immediately and I dived for my phone. It was a message from the postmaster: message undeliverable, address not recognised. My breath was suddenly hard to catch and my vision dimmed, so I had to lean over the table. There had to be some mistake. And then it struck me that I’d been a fool to leave V alone in this task, whatever she’d said. It was no different than if I had left her alone in one of the bars with a man pawing at her and expecting her to walk through the door of our flat half an hour later. What if Angus had become angry and was right now holding her prisoner at home? Or worse? I grabbed my coat and my phone and rushed out of the house.

I ran the length of my road, arriving amidst the mass of people and traffic on Clapham High Street. The path to V seemed unbearably long and I wanted to explode a bomb and remove everything and everyone between us. I jigged on the pavement, unsure whether a taxi or the Tube would be quicker. I heard my name being called and turned to see Kaitlyn walking towards me.

‘Feeling better, then?’ she said accusatorily.

But I was too preoccupied to think of a good excuse. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’

‘You look a bit feverish.’

My eyes were still on the road. ‘I’m fine.’

‘I don’t know what you’re doing, Mike, but you should be careful.’

I turned to look at her and her eyes were as watery and disconcerting as ever. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The chairman called me in today and asked me to have a look through all the Spectre stuff. He said he was worried it had all got a bit too much for you.’

I tried to feel irritation at the news but couldn’t muster any. ‘I don’t care. Take it if you want.’

‘I don’t want to do anything that might harm you. Or have you been offered another job or something?’

‘No, nothing like that. I just don’t really care.’ And it felt a relief to say it, a bit like when you exhale after a deep breath. ‘Look, I have to run. V needs me.’

Kaitlyn took a small step towards me. ‘Mike, are you sure she needs you? There’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you …’

‘Shut up, Kaitlyn,’ I said because I couldn’t bear her commenting on my life or V one moment longer, especially when she had no idea what she was talking about. ‘Just leave me alone.’

I turned and ran towards the Tube as I’d decided it would be quicker.

Every second of that journey dragged against my skin, so it felt like time was moving backwards and I was in a bad dream where I would never reach my destination. I ran all the way from Kensington High Street Tube to Elizabeth Road, but I am very fit and I wasn’t even out of breath when I knocked on the heavy black door I had come to know so well.

Angus answered, dressed in jeans and a grey shirt, nothing on his feet. His hair was messier than usual and his face looked almost crumpled. There were black circles underneath his eyes and I thought he had the air of a discarded man. We looked at each other for a few heartbeats, neither wanting to be the first to break ground.

‘I need to speak to Verity,’ I said eventually.

‘Sorry, who are you?’ he asked, his face screwed up as he leant against the door.

‘Mike,’ I said. The fact I had to introduce myself deflated my momentum.

‘God, so you are.’ He stood straighter, his face hardening. I couldn’t work out if he was knocking me off balance on purpose. ‘I’m afraid Verity’s in bed. She’s ill.’

‘I still need to come in.’

His face contorted slightly, but I knew he was from that class of people for whom rudeness is very hard. He was not the type to slam a door in anyone’s face, even if that person was about to make off with his wife.

‘You and I should talk,’ I added.

He opened the door wider and I stepped over the threshold exactly as I’d done the day before. He motioned for me to go into the drawing room and I was able to see the pale sofas I had glimpsed through the shutters, as well as the marble fireplace, the huge Venetian mirror, the pale grey walls, the beautiful works of art.

‘You’ve got a nerve turning up here,’ he said. ‘What the fuck’s wrong with you? I think Verity’s made it pretty clear where you stand.’

‘Verity hasn’t told you, has she?’ Her sickness suddenly made the silence of the day understandable.

‘Told me what?’ He folded his arms across his chest.

‘We’re in love. She’s leaving you and coming to live with me.’

He laughed, a schoolboy splutter. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

I composed myself and tightened my jaw. ‘I’m really sorry to tell you, but you’re part of this game we play, that’s got a bit out of hand. Verity is really sorry about how much she’s hurt you, but it’s impossible us not being together.’

‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ I saw a flash of fear in his face which hadn’t been there before and renewed my courage.

I spoke slowly. ‘I am very sorry. Verity and I are in love and she’s going to divorce you and come and live with me.’

He stared at me for a moment. ‘Have you lost your mind? You don’t think I’d know if my own wife was in love with another man?’