Behaving Badly (12 page)

Daisy lowered the bottle. ‘
Is
he?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Well, lots of politicians are,’ she shrugged as she batted away a wasp. ‘I guess it goes with the territory.’

‘It’s
much
more than that.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I just do,’ I said bitterly.

‘But
how
?’ There was silence. ‘How do you know that?’

I took a deep breath. ‘Because I’ve met him before.’

‘Really?’ she said. ‘When was that then?’

‘Sixteen years ago.’

‘When you were living in Brighton?’

I nodded. ‘He was a student there.’

‘Oh,
I
get it,’ she said, her eyes widening. ‘He was your boyfriend. Is that it?’

‘Sort of. I was infatuated with him—put it that way.’

‘Blimey. Small world,’ she breathed. ‘And he treated you badly?’ she asked, with another sip of champagne. ‘Bastard!’

I smiled at her retrospective loyalty. ‘He treated me
very
badly, Daisy—but not in the way that you think.’

‘What did he do then?’ she asked, clearly intrigued.

‘Well…he did something…very…shocking, and he involved me in it, and it’s haunted me ever since.’ Daisy was looking at me, spellbound. I stared at the ground.

‘Well, whatever it was,’ I heard her say, ‘remember that you were only sixteen. You were very young.’

I sighed. ‘That’s true. But even so, the memory still fills me with shame.’ I put down my glass. I had a pain between my eyes.

‘Anyway, I’m sure it wasn’t
that
bad. We all do things we regret,’ she went on tactfully. ‘Silly things. Unkind things. Don’t be too hard on yourself, Miranda.’

There was a knife-like pain in my throat. ‘I’m not being hard on myself—it
was
that bad. In fact, it was dreadful. It
was absolutely
dreadful
.’ I felt my eyes suddenly fill. ‘You said I’m brave just now, Daisy, but I’m
not
.’ My hands sprang up to my face. ‘If I
were
I’d have done something about it years ago, but I never have.’ I felt a warm tear slide down my cheek.

‘What was it?’ I heard her ask gently. ‘You can tell me.’

I shook my head. ‘You’d despise me if you knew.’

‘I wouldn’t, Miranda. You’re my closest friend.’

‘You would—you’d judge me. You wouldn’t be able to help it.’

‘I promise you I
won’t
judge you, Miranda, whatever it was, any more than I know you’d judge me.’

I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes. ‘I’ve never got over it,’ I croaked. ‘The knowledge that I hurt someone so much.’

‘You
hurt
someone?’ I nodded. ‘You mean, physically?’ I nodded again. ‘But who?’

‘This…boy,’ I replied. ‘Well, young man. He was twenty then. His name was David.’

‘What was he like?’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know what he was like?’ I shook my head again. ‘Why not?’

‘Because I’ve never met him.’

She looked confused. ‘You’ve never
met
him—but you hurt him?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t understand. Was it by accident?’

‘Sort of. Or rather,
no
—it wasn’t. It
wasn’t
an accident.’ Daisy was staring at me as though I were speaking in tongues. ‘It was a
crime
,’ I whispered. There was silence, punctuated only by the soft roar of a distant plane.

‘A crime?’ she repeated softly. I looked away, unable to maintain eye contact.

‘It was…’ I drew in my breath, ‘…very
bad
.’

‘Was it drugs?’ Daisy asked quietly, after a moment. ‘Did you give someone drugs?’

‘No. I’ve never got involved with that.’

There was a pause. ‘Then…was it like what happened to my dad? Is that what it was, Miranda—a hit and run?’

‘A hit and run?’ I echoed. ‘
No
. Although, yes, it
was
like that—in a way—
yes
—except that it didn’t involve a car.’

Daisy’s bewildered-looking face began to blur as my eyes spilled over again. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said.

Now I took a deep breath, as though I were about to dive underwater.

‘Then I’ll tell you,’ I whispered. ‘I
will
tell you. I
need
to tell you. But you must
never
tell anyone else.’

‘I absolutely swear not to.’

I glanced next door. ‘Can we be overheard?’

‘No. My neighbours are all away.’

And so, in a low, cracked voice, I told Daisy what had happened half my lifetime ago.

‘Gosh,’ she murmured, when I’d finished. There was silence. ‘Gosh,’ she said quietly again.

‘I did say it was shocking, didn’t I?’

I heard her inhale. ‘Yes.’ She breathed out again. ‘You did.’

‘Do you feel differently about me now?’

She shook her head. ‘No, I don’t. Because it wasn’t your fault. He
is
a shit,’ she remarked, as though the thought had just struck her. ‘
He
did it, Miranda—not you.’

‘But I shouldn’t have got involved in all that…stuff. I shouldn’t have got involved with
him
. I was naïve, at best. But I would have done anything for him—I used to write him these pathetic love letters—loads of them—and he exploited
my obsession; and as a result, this guy David got hurt.’

‘No wonder it’s troubled you for so long,’ she said. ‘What a huge thing to have to bear.’ She laid her hand on my arm for a moment. ‘And you never saw Jimmy again?’

‘No. Not until last week.’

‘Is that why it’s all come up again now?’

‘Partly—the shock of seeing him again—but actually, Daisy, it’s
always
been there. It’s
always
haunted me. And recently it’s been on my mind a
lot
for some reason—and then, by some strange stroke of synchronicity—or Fate—I met Jimmy again. And now I just can’t get it all out of my head.’

‘I know what’s happened,’ Daisy said quietly. ‘I think the fact that you were hurt recently has brought it all up—after all, you were a victim too. And that’s made you more aware of the hurt
you
once caused.’

‘Maybe,’ I whispered. ‘It’s quite possible. All I know is that it’s overshadowed a big part of my life. Sometimes I think it would have been better if we’d been caught, and punished, then I could at least have moved on.’

‘But if you had been, you might well have gone to
prison
, Miranda.’

‘I still could,’ I said bleakly. ‘So could he.’

‘He’d certainly lose his seat. And I don’t think he’d ever have been selected if they’d known
that
about him—it’s much too serious.’

‘I’m sure you’re right.’

‘And that’s why he spoke to you,’ she said, more animatedly now. ‘He’s kept it hidden all these years, then suddenly
you
turn up again. What a nightmare for him, Miranda—he took a huge risk going into politics—and you’re his smoking gun. He’s probably terrified that you’ll try and black mail him.’

‘I think he
did
think that. He said I could get in “a lot
of trouble” if I told anyone, which was obviously a counter-threat. Anyway, there it is,’ I whispered. ‘My terrible secret. Now you know. I’m
glad
you know,’ I added quietly. ‘I’ve been in torment for so long, and there was no-one else I could trust.’

Daisy laid her hand on my arm again. ‘I understand certain things about you now,’ she said, after a moment. ‘I understand why, when we first met, you seemed so guarded. I had to work hard to be friends with you. You seemed, yes…rather secretive, you always have actually. Now I know why.’

‘Yes. Because I
did
have a secret. A really dreadful one—and I was terrified that I’d be exposed. I lived in constant fear that one day someone would find out—and that my life would be ruined. It still might be,’ I added dismally.

‘I just wish you’d told me this before.’

I heaved a painful sigh. ‘There have been many,
many
times, over the years, when I
have
wanted to tell you. But you were my one and only close friend, Daisy, and I didn’t want to risk that.’

‘But I hate to think of you having carried such a big thing alone. It makes me feel sad.’ Her sympathy made my eyes fill again. ‘And you must have felt…lonely,’ she added. ‘Not being able to tell anyone.’

‘Yes,’ I murmured. ‘I
did
.’

‘Well, I’m very glad that you’ve told me. But the question is…what now?’

I looked at her blankly. ‘I don’t really know.’

‘Do you want to punish Jimmy? Is that it?’

‘No. Although his lack of shame fills me with rage.’

‘Then what do you want to
do
?’

I stared at the ground and there was silence for a few seconds while I considered the question. ‘I want…to try and make amends.’

‘You mean you want to be forgiven?’

My heart did a somersault. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I
do
. I want to be forgiven. I want to be…absolved. Sixteen years ago I did something terrible to someone, and I want to put it
right
.’

‘But why do you want to try and put it right
now
?’

‘Because, instead of fading with each year, it’s got worse. It’s never left me. I want to get it out of my head—and I don’t think I can unless I finally
do
something.’

‘And what do you think you could
do
?’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t know. All I know is, I want to…atone. I’d like to stop feeling guilty. I’ve been feeling guilty for so
long
.’

‘I know what you could do,’ Daisy said softly, after a moment. ‘But you must have thought of it yourself.’ I looked at her, then looked away.

‘I have. I’ve thought of it many times. I’ve had…’ I sighed, ‘these fantasies about doing it. But that’s all they’ve been—just fantasies—because I’ve never been brave enough to carry it out.’ I glanced at the sky where a distant plane was sewing a slender white trail across the blue.

‘Then be brave
now
,’ I heard Daisy say as I gazed upwards. ‘Be brave, Miranda.’

‘Isn’t it too late?’ I asked bleakly.

‘No. It’s never too late.’ I looked at her. ‘Find him, Miranda.’ My heart turned over. ‘Find David.’

Find David…

‘But what would I
say
?’

‘What would you say?’ she echoed. ‘Well, “sorry”, I suppose.’

I laughed a mirthless little laugh. ‘I don’t think “sorry” would be quite enough. “Hello, David. I’m Miranda. You know that parcel you got sixteen years ago? The one that exploded in your hands? Yes, that’s right. That one. You probably
remember it quite clearly, actually. Well, the person who delivered it was me!” I’m not sure “sorry” is going to be quite enough,’ I repeated, as I felt my eyes fill.

‘Well, it might be,’ she said. ‘It’s the least you can say—and the most you can say. It’s the only thing
to
say, actually, when you think about it.’

‘Hmm,’ I croaked. ‘That’s true.’

‘Look for him, Miranda,’ she said gently. ‘Then maybe you’ll be able to put this behind you at last. Isn’t that what you really want to do? What you’ve always wanted to do?’

‘Yes,’ I whispered, after a moment. ‘It is. I
do
want to do it. I’ve
always
wanted to do it. I’ve always wanted to find David White. And I
will
.’

CHAPTER 5

By the time I left Daisy’s, a couple of hours later, I felt shattered, but relieved. I’d unburdened myself, Daisy hadn’t judged me, and she’d given me such good advice. Just the thought of trying to find David made me feel so much better. The thought of taking
action
at last. But where on earth would I look? He could be in Paris, or Peru, or Prestatyn. He could be anywhere in the world. But I knew what my first port of call would be. When I arrived home, I got the number and dialled.

‘Welcome to the University of Sussex,’ said a recorded voice. ‘The switchboard is open from nine o’clock until five thirty, Monday to Friday. If you know the extension number—’ I’d have to wait. Then I looked up ‘Professor Derek White’ on the Net. There was nothing. And so, although I knew it to be a futile exercise, I looked up ‘David White’ too. There were nearly four million entries. There was a David White selling optical instruments; a David White who bought antiquarian books; a David White offering heating services; and David White, the actor, who starred in
Bewitched
. There were David White power tools and David White furniture, there was even a rap artist called
David White. Maybe ‘my’ David White had become a scientist, like his father. Maybe he’d completely dropped out.

At nine o’clock the next morning I called the university switchboard again.

‘I don’t want to be put through to him,’ I said carefully. ‘But could you tell me if Professor Derek White is still on the staff?’

‘Just a moment please…’ There was a quick burst of synthesized Vivaldi. ‘I can’t see that name, no. What department is he in?’

‘Erm… I’m not sure. Biology, probably. Or maybe Biochemistry.’

‘I’ll check for you again. No. There’s no one of that name. Do you wish to be put through to anyone else in the Science department?’

I panicked. ‘No, thanks.’ They might ask me who I was, or why I was calling. I’d have to try a different tack. So I rang directory enquiries again, and tried to find a home number.

‘Do you have the address?’

‘Yes. I do.’ I’d never forgotten it. ‘It’s forty-four West Drive, Brighton.’

‘Please hold… There’s no listing for a Professor D. White at that address,’ the operator announced.

‘Not even ex-directory?’

‘There’s no listing for that name at that address,’ she repeated automatically. ‘Would you like another number, caller?’

‘No. Thanks.’ I replaced the handset with a sigh. This wasn’t going to be easy, but then it was a long time ago—they could have moved, or he might have died. He must be well over sixty-five by now, so he’d probably retired. Maybe their neighbours might know where they’d gone, or would
agree to forward a note. With no other leads, I decided to go down there. I could combine it with a visit to Mum. I looked in the diary. Wednesday was free. Once I’d done my sleuthing, we could have lunch.