Untouchable Things Page 19

  Sorry to cut in – but did you recognise the voice on the machine?

  Pardon? Oh – no. I don’t think, no, I didn’t.

  Okay, carry on.

  Um, I need the bathroom again. Just a minute.

  Are you all right, Miss Laurence?

  Yes, sorry, I’ve got a bit of a, you know, infection, I’ll be right back.

  “Look at me, Rebecca.”

  She skimmed his face for a split second. “I’d better go home.”

  He put a hand on her arm. “I know we haven’t talked about it but I was assuming that the others had filled you in on my… extra-curricular activities. You do know I’m bisexual?”

  She shrank at the word. “Yes, but I suppose it was a shock just now.”

  “It wasn’t the best timing, granted.” He chuckled. “Or maybe it saved us from doing something rash. You have had a bit of a day, haven’t you?”

  She smiled, close to tears. “I suppose I have.”

  He put an arm round her and squeezed. “Well, why don’t we get you home now. I take it you’re not working tomorrow?”

  She shook her head, filled with sudden fear at the empty day before her.

  “Well, I’ll give you a ring to see how you’re doing. Let’s call you a cab. Oh, and by the way,” he leant over and grabbed a carrier bag from the side of the sofa, “here’s your cardigan.”

  Scene 12

  We have been talking to other people about what happened at the Christmas group, after the pantomime. When Seth Gardner was called to the door. Do you have a take on that, Mr Stanley?

  A take? Who knows what was going on? Sorry, I’m not being difficult but I’d guess the only person who can answer that is Seth himself.

  But did it worry you at the time?

  I suppose I was a little concerned. If I remember rightly I took him out for a drink to check everything was okay. Don’t remember getting very far, though.

  That was putting it mildly. Seth had made him suffer from the beginning, the mumbled invitation to a gallery opening in Islington, the mockingly raised eyebrows in response: Have I got this right, you’re asking me out? The lid lifted off Glyndebourne in one fell swoop and the stench of locked-up memories escaping. He needn’t have worried. Seth behaved chivalrously throughout, just as he had ever since sending that note and Michael relenting to join the Friday Folly. In fact, conversation had flowed. Seth liked the exhibition and before long, Michael found himself knee-deep in a rather enjoyable debate about the accessibility of the arts. But that wasn’t what the evening was for.

  “So,” a slight cough, “everything all right with you?”

  Seth blinked at the abrupt change of tack. Then he threw his head back and laughed. “God, Michael, you sound exactly like Charles. Don’t you start, please. I’m fine, everything’s fine, the beer is a little warm but perfectly acceptable and please, for Christ’s sake, can we just be blokes and talk about stuff rather than feelings?”

  So that’s what they did. At least for a while. But somehow the stuff became more personal until he was telling Seth about his family. How did that happen? He had the uncomfortable sense of Seth having turned the tables on him without having a clue of how it had happened or how to reverse it. When he almost mentioned Mr Fleming’s name he realised it was time to leave. He refused the offer to share a cab. The goodbye was awkward, a flicker of a smile on Seth’s face as he shook Michael’s hand. He strode off feeling thwarted and oddly buoyed.

  Scene 13

  [Anna bursts onto stage and stops, blinking into the dark]

  ANNA:

  Hey. Sorry for interrupting. But at this rate you’ll all forget who I am. I feel like I’m being hidden away back there. It’s all Rebecca, Rebecca, Rebecca. Don’t get me wrong. I like her, I really do. I admit I wasn’t sure at first. All that hair, you know. That actress thing. I mean, look at me in my civvies. Don’t even get a costume.

  I know, she’s sound really. She was a good choice. But you need to hear from more than one person if you want to get the full picture. And something’s changed since she arrived. Something’s not right. I’m not saying it’s her fault. But Seth – he’s different. Everything feels a bit shaky. I don’t like it.

  Who’s that?

  [enter José, peering into the dark]

  JOSÉ:

  Anna! What are you doing? You know you’re not supposed to be here.

  ANNA:

  Ah, give it a break, Josie. I just needed a bit of air.

  JOSÉ:

  So what’s up?

  ANNA:

  I was just thinking about Becs, the way things have been since Seth met her.

  JOSÉ:

  What do you mean?

  ANNA:

  Ah, come on. You know something’s going on. Something’s been knocked out of kilter. I know we needed to bring someone in, you know, after last year…

  JOSÉ:

  Anna! We can’t talk about this.

  ANNA:

  I know. But after that dinner – that heavy poem, the way he was acting – aren’t you concerned?

  JOSÉ:

  Of course.

  ANNA:

  And then that weird thing after the panto. Do you think he’s in some sort of trouble?

  JOSÉ:

  I hope not. I’ve been trying to get some time alone with him but he dances away from me.

  ANNA:

  If you ask me, Jake’s involved somehow.

  JOSÉ:

  You mean those men at the door? I’m pretty sure Jake helped Seth out of a tricky situation.

  ANNA:

  Maybe. But what do we know about him?

  JOSÉ:

  What do we know about any of us?

  ANNA:

  Don’t be like that. I know I’m right. From now on I’m watching him.

  JOSÉ:

  Anna…

  ANNA:

  Sorry, I’ll loosen up. Christmas is coming and all that. Remember last year? That ridiculous game – what was it, where you had to be an animal?

  JOSÉ:

  [laughs] I’ve blotted it out. And you must admit Jake put on an amazing spread. Particularly if you like eating chunks of animal.

  ANNA:

  Oh, he can cook, I don’t deny that. But as I pull my cracker and neck my fifth glass of wine, I’ll still be watching him.

  Scene 14

  Everyone was great when we split up.

  Your friends in the group?

  Yeah, some of them took me under their wing a bit. I went Christmas shopping with José.

  It was nice to have him to herself for once, away from Anna. Linked arms, taking on the Kensington High Street crowds, spending extravagantly and mostly on themselves. A brass band playing carols as the light faded. The chance to probe a little, to learn about Anna’s rift with her family and ask about Charles and Seth’s friendship.

  “They were room mates, weren’t they, at university?”

  José smiled. “Yes, imagine sharing a room with Seth. Especially someone like Charles. God knows how many times he bailed Seth out.”

  Rebecca raised her eyebrows. “Bless him. He’s such a sweetheart.” She took a sip of her sweet, eggnog-infused coffee. Normally she was a purist, but it was Christmas.

  “I know. I think he’s the closest thing Seth’s got to family. They spend a lot of time together listening to music and stuff.”

  “It’s surprising in a way. They seem so different.”

  José laughed. “They are. Did you know, Charles lives in an even swankier pad than Seth but he’s so modest you’d never know it. He’s an amazing architect.”

  “I’m surprised someone hasn’t snapped him up.”

  “Oh, he’s far too involved with his sister to look further.”

  “What?” Rebecca’s eyes expanded and José laughed.

  “I don’t mean like that. I think she’s unwell in some way and Charles looks after her a lot. Get the feeling it’s a no-go subject so I’ve never really asked.”


  Rebecca pondered this. “So I guess Charles won’t be at Seth’s for Christmas.” She’d been hearing about Christmas at Seth’s. Just her luck to be away.

  “No it’s only for people who are avoiding their families – or who don’t have any. Me, Jake, Anna and Michael, for the first time.

  She stirred her coffee. “Poor Seth. Do you – do you know how his parents died? I don’t like to ask.”

  “Car crash, I think, just before university. He never talks about it, though. Never mentions them at all.”

  Rebecca swallowed. “He mentioned his mother the other day.”

  “Did he?”

  She knew immediately from the surprise in his voice that she’d said the wrong thing. She tried to backtrack but saw the jealousy dance in his eyes like a flame. “Only in passing. He barely said anything.”

  José took a sip of coffee and when he looked back at her his eyes were matt brown again. “It’s fine. I’m glad he’s talking about it.”

  Did you meet up with any of the group over Christmas? Have I amused you, Miss Laurence?

  No, it’s just that about the only day you get off when you do panto is Christmas Day. No time to be popping down to London and hanging out with friends. It was sweet, though, the Christmas present from Seth. Perfume in an old-fashioned stoppered bottle, like the sort on my mum’s dressing table I used to play with. It was musky, darkly floral, not my usual thing at all.

  But presumably his. It sounds like you’d rather have been somewhere else, Miss Laurence.

  And some.

  Day after day of playing the fool, still dishing out gags when everyone else has taken down their decorations and is detoxing. And no hope of a casting director just popping into Cheltenham. Still, she was grateful of the distraction. Only a handful of hours a day left to deal with all the stuff in her head. Better to slap on the eye make-up and grin at family friends waving from the audience.

  You didn’t see your boyfriend?

  Ex-boyfriend. No. He was supposed to be staying for a few days over Christmas but obviously that didn’t happen. He might as well have been, though, the amount people went on about him.

  She was like a cat on hot bricks, restless, locked full of secrets like an adolescent. Everyone assumed it was because of Jason, talked to her about Jason, but it wasn’t Jason she wanted to talk about. Her mind looped round Seth in ever-decreasing circles while she answered unending questions about Jason. She only cried once, on Christmas Day, after too much red wine and an awkward phone call.

  So you were glad to get back to London. With your friends.

  And out of drag. I was.

  Scene 15

  January was Rebecca’s least favourite month but the constant hurry to get from A to B, now intensified by the cold, pinched faces of passers-by, propelled her like a power surge. London didn’t die off in the winter; if anything it upped the ante, forced the pace faster and more furious. This year that suited her.

  Being back in contact with them all, pressing the Play button again, was a relief. It was hard to imagine what her life had been like before Seth, before the group. How empty it must have been. She was in daily contact with Anna and José, regularly thrilled by Seth’s velvety voice on her landline and the whole group met at least once a week, with infinite subset possibilities in between. Rebecca started to initiate things herself: a visit to the Sensations exhibition, which provoked an hour of debate; a meal at the new South Indian restaurant up near Euston; even rollerblading in Hyde Park in the stripped winter sunshine. In return she was asked on Sunday walks by Seth and Michael, taken to a concert by Charles and asked to accompany Anna to a fancy dress party, with strict instructions not to look sexy. Her Catwoman costume was banned and Anna turned her into The Joker instead.

  There was no work on the horizon but she wasn’t going to worry about it. Her two episodes in the serial drama had aired but hadn’t led to a deluge of other offers, despite her mum’s prediction. Instead she was doing some more school stuff for Michael and getting expenses for it. Better than answering phones all day – or vegging out in her pyjamas. It was strange how little she missed Jason. The others seemed to have gushed into the void, maybe on purpose to keep her busy, or maybe it was always going to be that way when she had more space in her life. She missed him when the lights fused or the landlord announced he was putting up the rent. On Sunday mornings she missed sex. But other than that she pulsed with guilty relief, concealed under vague talk of ‘getting over him’.

  One sunny Saturday morning she had a crackly call from Anna.

  “Fancy cruising the King’s Road with me?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve got the hood down, shades on and I’m looking for talent.”

  Rebecca laughed. “In January? You’re nuts.”

  “Well, wrap up warm because I’m picking you up in fifteen minutes.”

  Fourteen minutes later she was summoned to the door by an insistent horn.

  “So this is the famous car.” Anna’s pride and joy, an old green MG. She and Seth liked to talk about cars but Rebecca sensed that it was a real passion for Anna, more a toy thing for Seth.

  “This is the green goddess. Hop in.”

  They laughed and shivered all the way to Sloane Square, people staring as if they were mad. Just being around Anna was like having an adrenaline shot. When they finally parked they were so cold they headed straight for Anna’s favourite patisserie and clutched hot chocolates, still giggling.

  “As far as pick-up tactics go, this wasn’t the most successful I’ve come across.”

  “Don’t write it off yet. We’ve still got the return journey.”

  “If that hood’s still down, I’m on the Tube, mate.” They grinned at each other. Anna glugged her drink and burped. Rebecca smiled to hide an involuntary wince. She’d been brought up to see farting and burping as ‘unfeminine’, not for public display. Anna did both with abandon. Still, there wasn’t much conventionally feminine about Anna – least of all her sexual appetite. How strange and wonderful to have that comfort in your own skin without wondering how people perceived you.

  “So, tell me about Christmas at Seth’s. I’ve barely heard anything, except that Jake found several new uses for leftover turkey.”

  Anna grinned and shrugged. “The usual. Seth was sky high, you know how he can be.”

  A twist of jealousy in her gut. “Did Michael enjoy it?”

  “Hard to tell with him. Always so watchful, you know? Sometimes I just want to slap him. But he loosened up in the end.”

  “And no surprises, à la panto?”

  Anna chuckled. “Nothing quite as extreme as that. The odd game or two, if I recall, into the early hours.”

  Rebecca could tell there was more but she wasn’t going to hear about it. She changed tack slightly.

  “Wasn’t it weird, by the way, the panto?” It was a while ago now, but she still hadn’t dissected it properly with anyone.

  “How do you mean?” Anna’s face revealed nothing.

  “Well, the whole stuff about who was who.”

  “Seth loves all that shit. Secrets, disguises, pretending. Confused identity.”

  “He’s a hard person to get to know, isn’t he?” Anna’s eyes flicked over her and Rebecca had the feeling she’d just shown a card in her hand.

  “Well we all are, aren’t we? Maybe that’s what the play was about.”

  “Maybe. And then those blokes at the door.” Rebecca shuddered slightly. “That was weird.”

  “Yeah.” Anna looked as if she was about to say more but seemed to change her mind. “Anyway.” She shifted in her seat and Rebecca mirrored her. “What are you planning for the next group?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Now I’ve finished panto I can give it some thought. It sounds very different from the last one.”

  The theme was ‘Childhood [cut short]’ and Seth’s invitations had featured – shockingly – a newspaper cutting of the Dunblane massacre. He’d written:

 
Come to a tea party on Saturday. Do something different. Take a risk. Show us something of yourself.

  “Yes, on a Saturday for a start. What does that make us, Saturday Sillybillies?” They laughed and Anna mopped up a biscotti crumb from the table with her finger. “I thought I’d join in this time.” An unfamiliar expression of shyness hovered briefly over her face.

  “Really? How come?”

  Anna shrugged. “It’s about time really. And I’m sure I’ll find a way of lowering the tone, even with a childhood theme.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  A clatter from the next table caught their attention. A baby covered in mustard-coloured goo grinned over at them while his mother fished around on the floor for the spoon he’d thrown.

  Anna winked. “How’s single life treating you?”

  “Good, actually. It’s been a while.”

  “Well, it’ll probably be a while before you’re attached again if you hang around with us for too long.”

  Rebecca smiled. “Yes, it’s weird everyone being single.”

  “Tell me about it. Either the group is a hotbed of simmering sexual tensions or we’re just a bunch of freaks. Or both. Come on – you’re the new kid here – what do you think?” She leaned back. Rebecca felt at a sudden disadvantage.

  “Well, I have wondered about Michael and Catherine. Whether he’s pissed off because she only has eyes for Seth.”

  Anna nodded slowly. “I see where you’re coming from but I don’t think so. They’ve been friends since university and he’s protective of her but I don’t think it goes further than that.” She thought for a second. “Catherine seems to have some sort of effect on men. One look at her playing that bloody piano and they think she’s the Angel Gabriel. Although he was a bloke, wasn’t he?”

  Rebecca grinned. “I know exactly what you mean, though. Even Seth.”