Beneath the Skin(48)

Oh fuck. I should say something. I really should, Mike thinks. He rakes a hand through his hair, squints at the fire and takes a breath. He begins to form meaningless words, but she stands up and removes her towelling robe before sitting down next to him again. She’s wearing a vest top, her honey arms are bare, except for a gold watch and a plaster, a plaster he doesn’t notice at first but which she peels away with care.

‘You’re the first person I’ve told. Ever.’ Then she starts to cry.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE


‘What’s wrong, Mum?’ Rachel asks. She’s been standing in the doorway of the kitchen for several minutes watching her mother who is just sitting at the wooden table, a small paring knife in her hand, staring into space. ‘Is Dad still in bed?’

‘Nothing, love,’ Olivia says. Then, realising she’s replied on autopilot, she corrects herself, feeling guilty at having momentarily forgotten about the terrible tragedy of last night. ‘Actually, something awful has happened, Rach. Come and sit down.’

Rachel’s face blanches and she sits down slowly, her eyes fixed on her mother’s.

‘Oh, it’s nothing to do with us, love,’ Olivia says hurriedly, reminding herself that her eldest child is nearly thirteen, a bright girl who notices everything.

‘Dad and I got a call when you were in bed last night. David Stafford has died. Poor Antonia found him. Dad stayed over to help out, which is why he’s still asleep.’

‘Oh Mum, that’s so sad … What, what happened?’

Olivia touches Rachel’s face and fixes a strand of dark hair behind her ear. ‘I’m afraid he killed himself, love.’

‘Grandma says that’s a mortal sin.’

‘Grandma says lots of things, Rach. I don’t know what Dad thinks, but no one has a right to judge. Life isn’t that simple. There are always reasons why people do what they do.’

Rachel nods. ‘I know, Mum, but still … He’s left Antonia all alone in that great big house. She must be so sad. It’s her I feel sorry for.’

‘Me, too. And such a terrible shock.’

Olivia stands and turns back to the work surface. She knows Rachel wants to ask more questions about David, but she can’t talk just now. She’s been preparing the school lunch boxes as usual but today the smell of the cheddar cheese makes her feel sick. Now that she thinks about it, she hasn’t been feeling a hundred per cent for several weeks. The strange taste in her mouth, the inability to enjoy a cup of tea, the sharp reaction to certain odours. Looking drained. Tiredness too. They’ve all crept upon her unawares because she’s always so bloody busy, because it isn’t what she was expecting.

Sami wakes early to find Sophie’s green eyes open and staring at him.

‘Bloody hell, Soph, you gave me a fright. You’re not usually awake this early.’

‘How do you know? You’re not either.’

Sophie’s been awake for at least an hour, which is unusual, she admits to herself, but she has an excuse. It’s the fertility clinic today, her stomach’s in nervous turmoil and she wants to be sick. But she won’t puke, she never does, which is a shame when she has at least a stone in weight to lose.

She continues to gaze at Sami’s face. He’ll be thirty-eight soon, but he looks exactly the same as the day they met. Black skin wears well, she thinks. Like Martha, like all his bloody sisters. But they don’t have Sami’s razor-sharp cheekbones, their faces are plump, their bodies are plump, thank God.

Eight years on and her need for him is as intense as ever. She tries not to show it, but at times it’s difficult. Like now. She knows he was awake into the early hours, restlessly kicking the covers, an occasional sigh escaping him. Something’s bothering him. She doesn’t want or need to know what it is, she just wants it to pass without incident, without him looking at her and ‘seeing you for what you are’. Her mother’s words. So hurtful, so hateful and yet so true.

She first spoke to him at Tiger Tiger one Friday, at nearly closing time. She’d clocked him earlier in the evening, dancing with his mate Mo, and she pointed him out to Antonia. ‘My God, that man is beautiful. Look at his face. Look how he moves. He’s mine, OK? Mine!’ she said. Then later, she’d just come out of the ladies’ and he was there, near the bar where she’d left Antonia, all teeth and charm. By the time she made her way over to them, he was asking Antonia, or rather telling her, to go to his pad for coffee, there and then. ‘Come on, woman, it’s only around the corner. You know you want to. We would make such beautiful babies.’

She stretches out in the too-warm bed and sighs. ‘We would make such beautiful babies.’ She’s thought about those words so often, too often. It was only a cheap chat-up line, she knows, but still, they hurt, really hurt.

Sami’s eyes are closed again, but his breathing is shallow and she knows he’s not asleep.

‘Sami, don’t forget my appointment at the clinic. It’s at three.’

‘What, me and Antonia? Isn’t that overkill? You really don’t need us both.’

His eyes flick open and Sophie catches the frown. ‘Have you fallen out with her or something?’ he asks.

‘No. She was just acting a bit strangely yesterday and I’d really like you to come. Pretty please, Sami?’