Enemy At The Window Page 8

  ‘Gosh,’ he said, hoping that would be sufficient.

  He turned to look at her.

  She went on. ‘He kept doing this heavy breathing thing every time we got close to the microphone.’

  Now that he saw her face properly, Daniel could understand why. Jody was gorgeous. The most striking thing about her was her hair, a coppery-red, but instead of being frizzy, it was straight and unexpectedly glossy. Tapered in a long fringe across her forehead, it brushed her cheeks in a broad curve before fanning out to the edges of her shoulders. The silky sheen made it seem as though a special spotlight was following her around. That, in combination with her smooth olive skin, meant he was finding it hard to take his eyes off her.

  A waitress brought his meal over and it was only once he’d spooned several piles of it onto his plate that he realised he hadn’t been given a fork. He scanned the table and discovered that everyone else was using chopsticks. This was going to be tricky. He hadn’t used chopsticks in about ten years. He peeled off the paper cover and felt the chopsticks instantly turn to rubber in his fingers. This evening was going to be one massive embarrassment. He put the chopsticks down and took a sip of wine.

  Jody hadn’t stopped talking until now. She turned towards him, expectantly. Her last sentence had gone up in pitch at the end and must have been a question. Due to the chopstick dilemma, Daniel hadn’t been listening. It was years since he’d had a beautiful woman at his side who wasn’t Sophie – and he was completely out of practice. The schoolboy pin-up with the charm and wit for every occasion was stumped.

  ‘Did it get better?’ Daniel muttered. ‘Your day, I mean… this eventful day...’ He couldn’t believe he was talking such rubbish.

  ‘Not until Mr Hippo managed to split his trousers, which had obviously been made-to-measure before he’d put on three stones,’ Jody added, then stalled for a moment. ‘Sorry.’ She rested her chopsticks on the edge of the plate. ‘I don’t usually make fun of the people I come across, but he was a first-rate git.’

  She glanced at his plate and without a word, slipped a fork and spoon under the table onto his lap, then smiled as she refilled his wine glass.

  ‘I’m out of practice,’ she whispered, ‘so I asked for these earlier.’

  Daniel puffed air out of his cheeks. ‘I think you’ve just saved my life,’ he said.

  She laughed and shook her head in a think-nothing-of-it kind of way.

  ‘And you? Have you had an eventful day?’

  Daniel let his shoulders sink. Eventful day, week, month – year, actually, he wanted to say – and eventful doesn’t begin to describe what I’ve been through. But, before he could open his mouth, she leant past him and stood the salt cellar upright.

  ‘Did I knock that over?’ he asked.

  ‘I think so.’

  He couldn’t cope with her question, so he grabbed instead at one of the words he’d managed to catch earlier. ‘Microphone… you said microphone – do you do adverts or something?’ He could very well imagine her pulling on exotic stockings or seductively lowering a flaky chocolate bar into her mouth.

  ‘I was recording a small part in a loony kids’ cartoon. I’m an actress. We’re doing The Brimstone Legacy in the West End at the moment. Heard of it?’

  Daniel wanted to say yes, but knew she’d pump him with questions about it and he’d end up looking stupid. Even more stupid. He couldn’t believe how all those years of seducing girls in his teens could have left him so inept at simple conversation with a good-looking member of the opposite sex.

  ‘I haven’t. Sorry. Been a bit busy in the last few—’ Daniel realised he’d been shaking soy sauce onto his rice since she’d last spoken and now his dish was flooded with it.

  She pointed to it and whispered, ‘That’s because you wish you’d ordered soup, now, isn’t it?’

  He tutted, shaking his head, and she chuckled.

  The business of holding a conversation was proving too much for him, so he decided to go for the easy option: ‘Tell me about the play…’ he said, hoping it was open-ended enough to keep her talking.

  He was right. She happily stole the conversation for the next hour or so. It gave him the chance to observe her, something he felt far better equipped to do than engage in small talk. She didn’t appear to be wearing any make-up; her smooth honey-beige skin didn’t seem to need any and her tongue caressed each word before her sensual lips sent them, one by one, into the air. He noticed that her accent, pure Queen’s English, created new words like ‘valgar’ and ‘wanderful’, but that she also had an unassuming manner that only people with genuine confidence can achieve.

  When she passed the pepper grinder, her movement was graceful, almost choreographed, but without any sign of self-consciousness. All in all, Daniel was finding it hard to make her out, but he wasn’t complaining.

  She leant over and pressed something into his hand. ‘Two tickets for The Brimstone Legacy. Just pass them on if you don’t want to come.’

  ‘Rick will love this,’ he said, pointing to him. ‘He’s into acting at the moment.’

  She glanced across the table. ‘Bring whoever you like.’

  As he pocketed the tickets his elbow sent a teaspoon spinning to the floor. He reached down to pick it up and noticed that Jody wasn’t wearing any shoes. Her delicate toes were hooked over the crossbar under the table. He straightened up, convinced that he was blushing and felt cross with himself.

  ‘Have you ever done any modelling?’ she asked.

  ‘Me?’ Daniel laughed, repositioning his napkin to do something with his hands. ‘No – what makes you think that?’

  ‘You could pass for one of those guys who appear in magazines for exclusive retailers. You know, lean guys with dark rugged looks selling “quality casual” outfits.’

  ‘You’re kidding me,’ he said. Not since his bachelor days had anyone been quite so forward with him.

  ‘I’m entirely serious – and anyway, my uncle was a tailor in Piccadilly, so I should know.’

  She helped herself to more rice and after she’d created a little heap on her plate, she turned, aware that he had been watching her. He saw her pupils fill out like ink blots and he cleared his throat.

  ‘You’re… intriguing,’ said Daniel, scrabbling around inside his brain for an appropriate description.

  Chapter 20

  It wasn’t until he left the train and braved the deluge that Daniel realised he’d left his umbrella at the restaurant. In spite of the subterfuge involved and the thorough soaking, he was grateful to Rick in the end. The evening had perked him up no end and the woman sitting next to him had been unexpectedly entertaining. And to be perfectly honest – very sexy.

  He wondered how Jody would react if she knew he’d only recently escaped being stabbed to death. And by his own wife.

  He hung his sodden jacket in the hallway, then thanked and paid Edith. Unusually for her, she was wearing a very short mini skirt, not terribly suitable for crawling around on the floor with Ben. She normally came round in dungarees or track pants.

  ‘Very smart this evening,’ he said, feeling compelled to make a comment as he’d been staring at her. ‘Did you have a date before you came over?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she said dismissively. ‘Just a bit of a wardrobe shake-up.’

  Edith hovered by the front door. At around five-foot ten, she was stick thin, which made her look even taller.

  ‘Right then,’ she said, ‘just call me… any time.’ She twirled round on the mat for no obvious reason. ‘And just so you know, I don’t have a boyfriend, so I’m usually free.’

  She’d never said anything like that before.

  He let her out. Time for bed. No need for the sleeping tablet – he was worn out.

  Any other night and he might have missed it. He turned to the illuminated numbers on the alarm clock: 2.45am. He froze for a moment, wondering whether the sound he’d heard could have been the cry of a cat or late night partygoers on the street. No – it wa
s closer than that.

  He slowly folded back the duvet and crept towards Ben’s room. The door was ajar and he listened without entering. There was nothing but silence. He was about to check elsewhere, when he decided to take a look all the same and stroked open the door. Ben wasn’t there.

  With a frantic leap across the landing he pulled the light-cord in the bathroom, but found it empty. He then shot into the spare bedroom, and that’s when he heard his son’s voice.

  ‘… and baby fish as well…’ As Daniel entered, Ben was standing beside the open wardrobe.

  ‘Sweetheart?’ Daniel scoured the room. ‘Who are you talking to?’

  Ben looked at the rug on the floor and put his fingers in his mouth. Daniel noticed a faint smell of perfume. ‘Have you been opening Mummy’s cupboards, Ben?’ he asked, keeping all accusation out of his voice. He knew he’d left it closed.

  Ben didn’t reply. He stood plucking at the green giraffe sewn onto the front of his pyjama top.

  ‘Who were you talking to, Ben?’ He knelt down and held Ben so that he could make clear eye contact with him. ‘Who was here?’

  Ben twisted his body in a not-telling-you way.

  ‘Are you playing games?’

  Ben giggled.

  ‘You should be in bed, young man.’

  Daniel picked him up, called him a rascal and returned him to his own room. Again, he noticed that the side of the cot had slipped down. He lifted it into position and locked it shut. It seemed solid enough. He made a note to himself to check the lock properly in the morning. He needed to be more careful. Ben couldn’t be allowed to climb out of his cot again like this, it was too dangerous.

  He stood still and listened: only a passing car and gusts of wind whistling down the chimney. Was Ben talking to Sophie in his sleep? There was nothing he could do except keep an eye on him.

  It was only once he was in the shower the following morning, that it struck him.

  The perfume he’d smelt in the spare room – it wasn’t Sophie’s.

  Chapter 21

  ‘Wow, that’s impressive!’ exclaimed Daniel.

  He’d asked Edith to keep an eye on Ben while he popped out to the dentist and she’d constructed a makeshift tent in the lounge. The pair of them were hiding under a clothes horse with towels draped over the top. Edith had even decorated it with flags and fairy lights. Must have taken a lot of effort. There was a rustle from inside.

  ‘Shh,’ said Edith in a stage whisper, ‘Don’t let Daddy know we’re here.’

  There was a muffled giggle and Daniel played along until Edith finally counted down from three to one. With a flourish, she emerged and Ben popped out the other end, shouting, ‘Boo!’

  ‘He’s been very good, haven’t you, Ben?’ she said, raising her palm and sharing a high five with him.

  Ben gave them both an exaggerated nod and began playing on the carpet with his crane.

  ‘Thanks, Edith.’

  ‘No problem,’ she said, with a wide grin.

  She’d always been a first-rate childminder since she moved in next door three years ago. She tidied up after playtime and baths and never seemed to be on her mobile, like most teenagers he’d come across. Daniel had watched her with Ben on several occasions and she seemed to be the right balance of firm and fun with him. Nevertheless, she had a fragile quality that made Daniel on edge around her, in case he said something to upset her.

  She followed Daniel into the kitchen to collect her payment and leant against the sink. Her straight black hair that habitually fell in clumps in no discernible style had been coiled into soft waves. She was also wearing lipstick.

  Now he thought about it, since he’d returned from intensive care, she was paying more attention to her appearance.

  In a businesslike fashion, he handed over the payment and led her to the door.

  ‘Oh, before I forget.’ She reached into her bag. ‘I wanted to give you these.’ She handed him a plastic freezer box. ‘Nothing much – just some ginger biscuits,’ she said, not looking at him.

  Without waiting for his response, she turned and fled.

  Daniel held the box reluctantly. He was going to have to be careful.

  Chapter 22

  Rick answered the door wearing only boxer shorts and flip-flops. He was cracking open pistachio nuts with one hand while waving Daniel and Ben in with the other.

  Rick rented two floors in a rundown Victorian house in Tooting. He’d moved so many times since Daniel had known him that he was hard to keep track of. He seemed to switch properties in the same way that some people traded in their cars. If he stayed anywhere for more than six months, it was an achievement. Before Tooting, Rick had lived in Brixton and before his stint in Sydney, he was in Rotherhithe; a prime example of itchy-feet syndrome.

  Rick invited them into the sitting room. There was a lingering smell of mildew emanating from a damp patch by the window. In addition, a distinctive top note of fish hung in the air, the source of which he couldn’t locate.

  Rick treated each place he lived in as if it was someone else’s squat. The carpet was threadbare and some decent furniture was swamped with torn cushions and ripped cotton throws. The ubiquitous lime-green woodchip wallpaper was a legacy from the seventies that he’d not seen fit to change and Daniel wondered why he hadn’t upgraded the ancient fake coal electric fire. Apart from looking gross, it was the only form of heating in the room. It wasn’t as though Rick was short of money.

  Daniel removed a pile of orange peel and a tube of toothpaste and sat on the edge of the sofa. He kept Ben on his knee, jogging him in a pony ride.

  ‘I can’t believe you made me sit next to someone starring in a West End show, for goodness sake!’ he said.

  Rick threw a nut into the air and caught it in his mouth.

  ‘I know people in high places, my boy,’ replied Rick, tapping his forehead. ‘Well, to be honest, it was Ajay who invited her.’

  ‘She’s a real live wire.’

  ‘Lucky you – I didn’t get to speak to her.’ He sounded disappointed. The next nut missed its target and fell to the carpet. Rick squashed it under his foot as if it was a wasp. ‘As long as she took your mind off things.’

  ‘Thanks for your text,’ said Daniel.

  ‘I knew it was yours,’ Rick said, handing him the folded umbrella. ‘It was the naff Kew logo that gave it away.’

  Rick gave Daniel a well-practised smirk. He’d always been a consummate smirker; his face seemed to fall naturally into that expression without him even trying. A result – no doubt – of a lifetime of scorn for other people, the world and life itself.

  Rick led them into the kitchen and pulled a couple of cans of beer from the bottom shelf of the fridge.

  ‘Jody gave me a couple of tickets for her play. The Brimstone Legacy. Fancy coming?’

  ‘Never heard of it, but sure – I’m game for anything!’ He cracked open a can, took a swig of beer and burped. He waved a can at Daniel.

  ‘No, thanks, I’m driving. I just came over to get the brolly and say thanks for last night.’

  ‘Does Ben want any juice?’ Rick started pulling faces and making farmyard noises at him.

  ‘Juice!’ Ben cried in response.

  ‘There’s a fresh carton in the porch,’ he said. ‘Come on, let’s go and find it.’

  Rick left the room and Ben trotted after him.

  Daniel stepped out into the hall and ran his eyes over the frames on the wall while he waited. He found himself drawn to one of Rick standing alongside his younger brother and sister. Louise had left a firm impression in his mind, but he’d forgotten about Miles. He was born nearly twenty years after Rick. Daniel wondered, not for the first time, whether he’d been a ‘mistake’ or whether his parents had made the deliberate decision to stave off empty nest syndrome.

  It had been tragic, in the end. He remembered finding a message from Rick on his answerphone, asking him to go to the funeral, but he’d been in Italy and by the time he got ba
ck it was all over. A brain tumour had claimed him before he reached ten years of age. The boy had always seemed frail.

  Rick and Ben eventually returned with a carton of orange.

  ‘You tried those sleeping tabs, yet?’ Rick asked, as they headed back to the kitchen.

  Daniel nodded. ‘They’re helping, actually. Thank you.’

  ‘You taken him in to see your lady wife yet?’ he said, moving out of Ben’s earshot.

  Daniel brushed invisible fluff from his sleeve. ‘She’s not seeing me for the time being.’

  ‘I can take him over there, if you like. Just pop in for half an hour or so. Keep everyone happy.’

  Daniel was on the verge of giving his agreement, but his eyes slid down to the can in Rick’s hand. A niggling sense of disquiet made him think again.

  ‘That’s... thanks… but Sophie’s got other people she can ask.’

  Rick went on, undeterred. ‘And don’t forget… if you need a babysitter, my sister is the best one in town.’

  A mobile rang and Rick tossed aside a newspaper and a half-eaten piece of toast on the kitchen table to find it.

  He pressed the phone to his bare chest and started laughing. ‘Man, you’ve got to see this. How do people make these crazy videos?’

  Rick pressed a button so Daniel could see the screen and the picture went black. ‘Bloody thing – where’s it gone?’

  ‘I think you’ve just deleted it.’ Rick had always been clueless when it came to any form of technology.

  ‘Oh, bugger it!’ Rick suddenly remembered Ben was in the room. ‘Oops… sorry.’

  Chapter 23

  As the applause after the performance of Jody’s play died away, Daniel had a text from Rick inviting him to join him at a small pub behind Oxford Street. Rick had left during the interval claiming he had to make some urgent calls. Having spent most of the first half fidgeting, Daniel had the feeling he’d gone straight to the pub. The Brimstone Legacy clearly wasn’t his cup of tea.