Lorrance visibly blanched. ‘Her magazine would love this story.’
‘Wouldn’t they! It seems to me you can’t just sit around doing nothing. You must act. Jay’s ambivalent about Dex, but I don’t think it would take much for him to have her firmly back in his ranks.’
‘I’d like to hear what you’d do in my shoes.’
She laughed. ‘I’m sure I can think of something.’
‘You hate him, don’t you.’ Lorrance grinned at her. ‘One that got away, I suspect. Did he never fancy you, Gina?’
She pantomimed a growl. ‘He’s not my type, never was.’
‘Didn’t realise that was a criterion.’
‘You don’t know what any of my criteria are.’
‘I know you, Gina. You’re a she-wolf, one of the tribe.’
She sauntered back to him, stood over the bed, hands on hips. ‘Then just be grateful I’m running with your pack,’ she said.
Chapter Seven
In the evening, Julie took Jay to The Haymaker, a square modern pub in the middle of the estate, with no hay fields in sight. They sat across from one another at a new table designed to look old and drank gin and tonics. Julie had chattered on about herself, occasionally nodding hello to the regulars. Jay now knew all about how Cora had finally run off with a computer salesman (a considerable rise in status for Cora - and one which she no doubt thought was long deserved), and how she was singing again, in working-men’s clubs. Julie confessed that her mother was not a great singer, but if she enjoyed it, so what? Julie saw her perhaps once or twice a month. She then went on to describe her disappointing parade of temporary boy-friends, two of whom had lingered long enough to spawn Melanie and Kylie. Gary was a black sheep, forever haunting the fringe of criminal activity. He was sometimes quite rich, sometimes destitute. Julie discouraged him from visiting the house, afraid the police might look for him there one day and upset the kids. Her father, Ted, had disappeared from her life completely. He could be dead, for all she knew. She avoided the subject of Dex, and for the time being, Jay did not push it. Julie’s family were like ghosts; she might as well be alone. Jay considered the Banners were extraordinarily adept at losing people, especially each other. Perhaps, one day, Julie would wander out into the garden, where she had left Baby Melanie mewling in her pram, only to find empty blankets, still warm.
Then Dex came into the conversation. Julie’s reminiscences wandered into the enchanted fields of childhood. She related what Jay considered to be a stream of fantasies concerning the fierce and indomitable relationship she’d enjoyed with Dex. Jay, unlike many of Dex’s London friends, had few bad memories associated with his character, but even she found it difficult to believe in Julie’s primrose vision of the past. Dex, apparently, had been noble, fearless, imaginative and sensitive. These attributes did not quite fit in with the image Julie had painted of her brother earlier in the day. ‘We used to play up where the new estate is now,’ Julie said, her eyes misty. ‘There was woods there, and a stream. I fancied myself as a right little princess!’ She laughed. ‘Chris’d be a cowboy, or a space man, or a knight, but I’d always be a fairy princess. It was best when Chris was the knight because princesses have knights, don’t they. They don’t have space-men!’ She laughed even more.
Jay felt hollow. She remembered times like that in her own childhood, playing in the sun, wearing a couple of old curtains and believing herself a queen.
‘What about your family?’ Julie asked. ‘I bet yours are all rich, aren’t they.’
Jay shook her head. ‘No, Julie. Like you, I’m alone. Both my parents are dead now.’
Julie frowned. ‘Oh, sorry. Haven’t you any brothers and sisters?’
‘No. There’s just me. I think there are some cousins somewhere, but I’m not in touch with them.’
Julie smiled shakily. ‘Well, families can be trouble, can’t they? We’re probably best off as we are.’
Jay nodded, then shrugged, sighed, and took a drink. ‘It’s not something I think about, to be honest. I keep busy.’
‘What about kids?’
Jay pantomimed a shudder. ‘Oh no. That’s just not me.’
Julie looked introspective for a moment. ‘It would have been nice if Chris’d had kids.’
The idea, which flashed across Jay’s mind in a series of shocking and repellent images, seemed grotesque. ‘He’d have still disappeared, anyway,’ she said.
‘Yeah, I s’pose he would, if my situation’s anything to go on!’
They shared a conspiratorial smile and Jay went to the bar to get another drink. When she returned, she asked, ‘So, did Dex always have trouble with his brother?’
Julie thought about it for a moment. ‘To tell the truth, I can’t really remember when it all started. Must have been slow, like.’
‘Did Gary bully Dex?’
Julie pulled a face. ‘I suppose you’d call it that now, yeah.’
Then, it had probably been seen as fairly normal behaviour between siblings. ‘What happened?’
‘Chris’d run away like a rabbit. That’s usually when I got to hear about it. I’d be upstairs or something, then there’d be some sounds downstairs, and the back door slamming, and Gary bellowing down the street. There’d be no sign of Chris by then. I used to wait a bit, then I’d go to find him.’
‘How did your parents cope with the squabbles?’
Julie sneered, took a sip of gin. ‘Dad’d gone by then, and Mum was hardly ever there. If she saw anything, she’d just clobber the pair of them. It didn’t happen much when she was there. We kept our heads down then, all of us.’
Jay had a vision of Cora, her Playtexed bosom jutting fiercely, her mouth a severe slash of red, her eyes like those of a battlefield goddess.
Julie laughed. ‘One time, us kids all got drunk. Mum had gone out to the pub. Gary was about twelve then, I was eight and Chris was six. Gary used to look after us when Mum went out. We raided the whisky, and when they got back, there was Chris being sick and us other two pissed as newts. We didn’t like the taste much, otherwise we might have had more.’ Her face clouded. ‘We got a right tanning for that, I can tell you.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘She wasn’t that bad,’ Julie said. ‘She was unhappy. Got up the duff and had to marry a man she didn’t love. Life was a disappointment to her. I don’t blame her. I s’pose she’s happy now.’ Julie went quiet for a moment, then leaned forward. ‘Anyway... about Chris. He speaks to me all the time.’
Jay didn’t know how to react. ‘I thought you said he wasn’t dead.’
Julie looked puzzled. ‘He isn’t.’
‘Then... he calls you on the phone?’ Jay didn’t dare to hope.
Julie shook her head. ‘No. It’s not like that. Like I told you, phone’s cut off anyway.’
‘Then how is it?’
Julie pulled back, her eyes narrowed. ‘I might tell you. I might not.’ She paused. ‘I like you, Jay. You seem OK. I’m glad Chris was with you.’
Jay felt embarrassed, wondering, with her silent judgements, what she had done to deserve this accolade.
‘Tell you what,’ Julie said. ‘Stay at ours tonight. There’s some stuff I could show you tomorrow - if it feels right.’
For a brief moment, Jay felt afraid of staying in the house where Dex had lived. Julie must have misinterpreted her pause.
‘Look I know it ain’t the Ritz, but I cook a mean breakfast. You won’t get one better in any fancy hotel.’
Jay smiled. ‘I’m sorry. Of course I’d love to stay with you. I was just thinking about how I’ve reserved a hotel room, that’s all. I haven’t got all my things with me. Still, it doesn’t matter. I can get them tomorrow. I’d better call The Ship though, otherwise the indomitable Bella might not be pleased!’ She leaned down to pull her mobile phone from her shoulder bag and ferret around for the card Bella had given her with the hotel’s address and phone number on. After this quick call, she remembered Gus, which prompted an involun
tary sigh. ‘I’d better just try my boyfriend again and let him know I won’t be back tonight.’
‘You’ve got another bloke now?’ There was slight note of reproachful surprise in Julie’s voice.
Jay chose to ignore it. ‘Yeah.’ She punched in her home number, but Gus still wasn’t there. Relieved, she left another short, breezy message on the answering machine, vague about her location and activities. Gus was used to her travelling about, so it shouldn’t concern him too much.
Julie was still staring at her suspiciously, as she stowed her phone back into her bag. ‘I met Gus eighteen months ago,’ Jay said. ‘It doesn’t mean Dex’s disappearance doesn’t still hurt me, Julie, because it does, but life goes on.’
Julie nodded slowly. ‘Yeah. It’s easier to replace a boyfriend than a brother.’
‘Dex is irreplaceable, Julie,’ Jay said, quite sternly.
Julie ducked her head, waved it from side to side. ‘Yeah, yeah. But it’s different for you.’
The spare room in Julie’s house was chilly and damp. Julie stripped down the bed, swathed it with clean bedding and stuffed it full of Kylie’s hot water bottles, but later that night, when Jay went to bed, she was aware of the cold, clammy breath oozing from the sheet and the duvet. There was a faint smell of must. This had once been Julie’s room. Dex had shared a room with Gary, now occupied by Kylie. There were no ghosts in the walls.
Earlier, she and Julie had returned from the pub after closing time, Jay hugging a bottle of wine she’d bought for an extortionate price as a ‘take-out’. Jay felt slightly drunk, and could tell Julie was heading the same way. All they wanted to do was keep drinking. Jay thought this might elicit more confidential remarks from Julie, but unfortunately, the baby-sitter - a loud teenager who lived up the road - proved difficult to expel and wanted to share their wine.
The baby-sitter finally left about half mid-night, and Julie went to make coffee. Jay sat on the floor in the front room, hugging a cushion against the slight draught that whispered under the door from the hall. The room seemed cosy in dim lamp-light, the gas fire hissing comfortably in the grate. Jay looked around the room and wondered why Dex had never sent money to his sister, his protectress. She made do with very little: benefits, hand-outs, second-hand furniture and charity shop clothes. My God, he could even have bought her a house, Jay thought muzzily, feeling great empathy for a woman she’d met only a few hours before.
When Julie came back in, Jay said, ‘It’s really weird, but since I’ve been here with you, it seems like it was only yesterday that Dex disappeared. I don’t feel the same pain, exactly, but in a way you’ve made him come alive for me again.’
Julie pursed her mouth slightly, perhaps feeling Dex should never have seemed dead for her, anyway.
Jay felt she’d committed a faux pas. Her remark had supposed to be a compliment. She couldn’t really say anything more. To add that everything had been so difficult back then, what with the journalists and photographers, would sound crass, almost bragging. If she’d known Julie then, maybe she would have come here to recuperate and would have recovered so much sooner. Perhaps. Maybe she’d have only seemed spoiled; rich and drunk and with a hundred potential Dex replacements just around the corner. She had always been her own woman. Dex’s disappearance had not burdened her with survival fears. The loss of a man could only affect her emotionally. When Julie’s boyfriends had enacted their own vanishments, she’d been left with debts and the expense of children, with no way to increase her income. Drink puts a gloss over everything, Jay thought, suddenly completely sober.
The evening ended on a tense note. There were no more confidences, or mentions of Dex being in touch, and because the atmosphere had changed, Jay knew she couldn’t broach the subject. She wondered whether Julie was having second thoughts about her. Other than Dex, they had little in common. Perhaps, in the morning, she could repair the damage.
The smell of cooking bacon woke Jay around eight, and shortly afterwards, Julie came up with a cup of tea, Kylie peering round her track-suited knees. To Jay, this hour was obscene, a time when usually she was fast asleep. She was also used to the delicate flavours of orange juice, croissants and continental cereals for breakfast. The heavy, oily aromas filling the house reminded her of childhood weekends at her grand-parents’, when she’d wolfed down ‘one-eyed-gypsies’; fried egg beneath a piece of crisp fried bread with the centre cut out, drenched in tomato sauce.
It was too cold to sit up in bed and enjoy the tea, so Jay dressed quickly and went downstairs. A Radio One DJ hectored the kitchen, and fat spat in the frying-pan. All the windows were misted with condensation. ‘Sleep well?’ Julie enquired, shovelling dripping bacon onto a plate with a fish slice.
‘Fine,’ Jay said, smiling. The sunlight beyond the foggy windows was clear and hard. The street seemed full of children and mothers. She wondered whether she should check on her car.
Julie plonked a laden plate down before Jay. She thought she’d feel sick at the sight of it but was pleasantly surprised to find it made her mouth water. ‘Sauce on the side,’ said Julie, nodding at the cluttered work surface beside the sink.
Her baby, a terrifying gnome, wobbled in a high chair across the table, drooling copiously and staring at Jay with piggy eyes, occasionally emitting an ear-splitting shriek, which Jay supposed was designed to attract attention. She ignored it. Kylie, however, to whom Jay had taken a wary shine, sat quietly beside her, drawing with blue crayon in a school exercise book. Julie noticed Jay looking at it. ‘She’s got some of Chris in her, bless her,’ she said. ‘The artistic type.’
Maybe I should do something for her, Jay thought, equally aware of how Julie might view any offer of assistance, financial or otherwise, from Dex’s rich, London ex. Perhaps Julie would be entitled to royalties from Dex’s work - it was clear she wasn’t benefiting at present. Jay resolved to look into it once she got back home. She knew people who worked for law firms.
‘So, what’s on the agenda today?’ Jay asked, forking beans and bacon into her mouth. Julie had not lied about her cooking. The simple fare seemed to explode with flavours.
Julie put a plate down before Kylie, who merely twitched her nostrils at it like a cat. ‘I’ve got to take this ‘un to school first. Get on with it, Ky, there’s a good girl.’
The child grudgingly began to eat.
‘Then what?’ Jay asked.
Julie glanced at her, taking a draw from a cigarette. ‘Dunno yet,’ she said.
Clearly some reparation was in order. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Jay said. ‘I could do the dishes.’
‘Eat your breakfast first,’ Julie said, but her tone had softened.
Jay went along with Julie and the children to the school where Kylie would spend her day. They were joined by Marie from next door, who now treated Jay like an old friend. It was clear that she and Julie had discussed her late the previous afternoon. Kylie and Marie’s daughter, Emma, whispered conspiratorially together, walking a few yards ahead of the women. Occasionally, they’d look back at Jay and laugh.
To Jay, the gathering of mothers and their offspring at the school gates was a culture shock. The women talked mainly about babies, and Jay was unnerved by their screaming older children, who all seemed to be running about madly. This was not a world Jay knew or had ever cared to know. Women were different when they had children, apparently focused entirely on being mothers. All Julie’s friends at the gate, like Julie herself, had aged before their time, as if all their energy had been sucked out of them, dragging their youth with it. They cast many a curious glance at Jay, until Julie said, ‘Oh, this is a friend of Chris’. From London.’
Then the other women felt free to examine her openly, no doubt weighing up her hunched pose, her hands thrust deep into the pockets of her leather jacket. ‘Hi,’ said Jay, eager to escape.
Once the army of diminutive hellions had been absorbed into the school, Julie said, ‘We’ll go for a walk.’
Marie cle
arly sensed this was family business, and left Jay and Julie alone. They set off up the road beside the school. Houses on the other side were raised up on a bank, and here the gardens were slightly larger, most of them well-tended. The gnome bounced in her push-chair; it seemed inconceivable she possessed the flowing, elegant name of Melanie.
‘Thanks for putting me up,’ Jay said, hoping to re-establish the friendship that seemed to have been forming in the pub the previous night.
‘’S’OK,’ Julie said.
They walked in silence for a while, until they came to the flat play area, fenced by wire mesh covered in green plastic, where a few mothers and below school age children were gathered. Melanie had begun to make disturbing bird noises.
How can she stand the noise? Jay wondered, peering at Julie sidelong. They sat on a bench, Julie pushing the baby’s chair back and forth, both women smoking cigarettes. Around them, the estate rustled with unseen life; the streets seemed empty now. Jay’s phone rang and she fished it out of her bag. She recognised her home number in the display. Gus was calling and this must be a hostile move because at this time she was normally asleep.
‘Where are you?’ His demand excluded greeting, as if he’d guessed where she was.
‘Oh, hi,’ Jay said. ‘I’m just up north.’
‘When will you be back?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Soon.’
Her vagueness seemed to irritate Gus. He complained about how soon he would be away; they should be spending this weekend together. She’d better be back by Friday. And what was this job anyway? She hadn’t mentioned it. A shiver of anger made Jay say, ‘I’m with Dex’s family, OK? I’ll see you later.’ She ended the call.
Julie was looking at her carefully.
‘Men!’ said Jay, and they both laughed.
‘They’re all the bloody same,’ said Julie.
Inside, Jay was already beginning to fret about her rash honesty. She looked down at the phone in her hands and turned it off. She didn’t want any more calls. But what would she go back to now? Rows, moods, sulks. Sighing, she dropped the phone into her bag. Why was she here anyway? What could it possibly accomplish?