‘Thank you for coming. Like I said on the phone, I’m only sorry it’s taken us a while. Ed? Is dinner ready now?’
‘Dinner’ was fish pie from a packet. At home, that would have been considered a disgrace. Meals had to be made from scratch; the process took hours. It was a mark of respect for the guests.
Meanwhile, try as she might to make small talk, the atmosphere was tight. ‘Your home,’ said Carla, in desperation, ‘is very minimalist.’ Since coming back, Carla had made a point of learning a new English word every day. This was one of them. She’d been waiting for an opportunity to use it.
Lily dug the serving spoon into the dish so the juices flooded over the edges. ‘It’s so that all my husband’s paintings will stand out.’
All? But there were only two that she could see.
‘I seem to have lost my creative mojo,’ said Ed drily, topping up his and Carla’s wine glasses but not Lily’s. She had sparkling water. ‘I’ve been trying all kinds of things but nothing works.’
Something had happened to this couple since she had last seen them in the gallery. They looked empty somehow. Someone had switched off a light inside their souls.
‘I don’t understand.’
Ed picked up his knife and fork. Carla followed suit. Lily, she noticed, didn’t even bother. It was as if the food in front of her wasn’t there.
‘I have run out of inspiration. It’s partly because of Tom. He hasn’t been … well.’
He stopped as Lily flashed him a warning look.
Aware the atmosphere was getting worse, Carla tried to choose her words carefully. ‘But he is better now?’
‘Better?’ Ed took another large slug of wine and laughed hoarsely. ‘Tom will never be better, and –’
‘Ed.’ Lily’s voice carved through the air. ‘We must not inflict our troubles on our guest. Now tell me, Carla. How is your course going?’
She braced herself to look directly at the woman opposite. ‘Very good, thank you.’
Somehow, Carla told herself, as she spoke lightly about the past, how she’d loved cooking with Lily as a child, and then described the various lectures she’d been to recently, she had to find a way to bring Larry – no, Tony – into the conversation.
As she finished talking, there was silence. Ed and Lily both seemed completely absorbed in the table in front of them. Fine, Carla thought, I’ll just launch straight in.
‘Actually,’ she said quickly, ‘I was wondering if you could tell me how I could find Mr Gordon. My mother, she has a message for him. I’ve emailed his clerk but received a reply to say he is not available at present.’
Lily visibly twitched.
Ed had almost finished half a bottle now. ‘You can say that again,’ he spluttered.
‘The reason he’s not available at present, Carla, is because Tony is very ill,’ said Lily slowly, pushing her plate to one side even though she had barely touched her food. ‘In fact, he’s in a hospice, not far from here.’
‘A hospice?’ Carla felt a catch in her throat. An excited catch that knew it ought to be shocked instead.
‘He has cancer. The poor man doesn’t have much time.’
‘Poor man?’ Ed snorted. ‘That’s not what you’ve said about him to me.’ Then he turned to Carla. ‘The two of them had some kind of falling out over a case. But my wife here can’t go into details because it’s confidential.’ He tapped the side of his nose knowingly. ‘That’s the law for you.’
Lily looked furious. ‘Don’t drink if you can’t control yourself,’ she said coldly.
‘It’s not me who can’t control myself.’ Ed was rising unsteadily to his feet.
‘That’s enough.’
They were arguing as if she wasn’t there! Carla felt another glimmer of excitement. If you wanted to get one step ahead in court, her new tutor had said, it was always better if your opposition was divided.
‘I’m sorry.’ Lily touched her arm as Ed stormed out of the room. ‘Things are difficult at the moment.’ Then she pressed an envelope into her hand. ‘This is a small thank you from us. It’s the award money that Ed won all those years ago, as well as a little extra.’ She spoke fast. Sharply. Without warmth. As if this was a pay-off rather than a proper present.
‘Thank you.’ Part of Carla wanted to throw it back. Their ‘gift’ made her feel dirty. Humiliated. It was clear Lily just wanted to get rid of her. ‘That’s very kind. But there’s just one more thing.’
Alarm flashed across Lily’s face. Her eyes grew stony. She thought Carla wanted extra money! The knowledge gave Carla power. Of course she did. But that would come later.
‘Could you please,’ continued Carla, brazening out the hostility in those eyes, ‘write down the name of Tony’s hospice?’
Lily’s face softened. ‘Of course.’ She reached for a pen. ‘Here it is. I will ring you soon, Carla. I’m so sorry about this. Like I said, we’ve had a few problems. Ed isn’t quite himself.’
Outside, Carla tipped open the envelope. A thousand pounds? If those two thought that was enough, they were very much mistaken.
33
Lily
‘I wasn’t sure that you’d come.’
We’re sitting outside an Italian restaurant just off Leicester Square. I’m still shaken after our dinner with Carla. Not to mention everything that’s been going on with Tom. After all, that’s partly the reason I’m here.
It’s unseasonably sunny for this time of year. I’m not wearing a coat, but I do have my sunglasses on. Red frames. They’re necessary protection against the low-burning orange circle in the sky, but they also let me observe my companion without allowing him to make that eye contact he was always so good at.
Joe Thomas, it has to be said, looks like any of the businessmen walking past. Respectable in that dark-blue suit. Clean-shaven. Tidy hair. Shiny, black, pointed shoes. And a tan.
‘What do you want?’ I’m keeping my tone deliberately level. Act normal, I tell myself. It’s why I suggested this place in full view of the world.
His fingers position the cutlery so that it is perfectly in line with the edge of the place mat. His nails are clean. Well kept. ‘That’s not very polite.’
‘Polite!’ I laugh. ‘What do you call perverting the course of justice then?’ I lower my voice, even though it’s quite low anyway. ‘You killed your girlfriend and then made me believe you were innocent.’
‘You wanted to believe I was innocent.’ My companion leans forward so his breath mingles with mine. ‘You thought I was like your brother.’
I sit back. It was a mistake to come here. I see this now. Yet I too have my questions to ask. ‘I don’t want you to send cards any more. How did you know when my birthday was?’
‘I looked it up. You can look almost anything up.’ Joe Thomas smiles. ‘You should know that. I wanted to remind you that I was still thinking of you. But it’s Tom I’m here about.’
I freeze. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I think you know already. It’s why you’re here. I would have come earlier, but I’ve been working abroad until recently. And when I came back, I found out you’d had a child.’
He leans across the table towards me again. ‘I need to know, Lily. Is he mine?’
My body goes cold. Numb. Underneath the table, my legs start to shake. Words are about to tumble out of my mouth, but I manage to pull them back and replace them with better ones. ‘Of course not. Don’t be so ridiculous. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Gripping the edge of the table, I stand up.
‘I’m talking about us.’ Joe’s voice is pleading. His former arrogance now carries a note of desperation. ‘Don’t go. I must have the truth.’
‘The truth?’ I laugh. ‘What do you know about truth? You’ve allowed your imagination to run riot, Mr Thomas.’ I stop myself. It’s not his fault he has ‘behavioural issues’, as we argued in court. But that doesn’t explain everything he’s done. ‘You were my client twelve years ago and I’ve lived to rue the day I helped you get off. It’s something I will never forgive myself for.’ Tears blind my eyes. ‘Poor Sarah …’