Behaving Badly (25 page)

‘It’s okay, Miranda, you don’t have to feel so upset about it.’
I do. I do
. ‘It was a long time ago. And at least my eyes were okay—thank God. I just got a bit of shrapnel in my face—all I’ve got is this tiny scar, here—’ he touched his cheek, ‘—you must have noticed it. Anyway—to cut a long story short, I know what it feels like to be physically assaulted by a stranger, so I can sympathize.’

‘Yes, but what you went through was a thousand times worse. Mine was just a common or garden mugging, David; it wasn’t nice, but I can get over it. But you—you…’ I stared out of the window again, my eyes brimming now with unshed tears. ‘You could have been killed.’
I could have killed you
.

‘The device wasn’t big enough—though I don’t know whether
they
knew that, as the police said it wasn’t a particularly competent job. But yes, I could have been, I suppose; or my dad could have been, because of course it was intended for him. But, you know,
that
was weird in itself, because he wasn’t involved in animal experiments at all. I mean, he had a pet rat in his lab, Rupert, which he’d actually saved from vivisection. But most of his research was plant-based. That’s why he was never able to understand it. To his dying day it totally mystified him. He always assumed that they’d targeted him out of ignorance.’

Why
did Jimmy do it, I wondered again.
Why?

‘And no one was ever caught,’ I murmured.

‘No, they weren’t. How do you know that?’

‘No, I—I don’t know that—I was just asking you. No-one was ever caught—
were
they?’

‘No. There were no witnesses. The device was delivered very early, you see. No one knows exactly what time.’
Five a.m
. ‘The milkman said he thought he’d seen a slim figure cycling away.’

‘Really?’

‘But it turned out to be the paper girl.’

‘Oh.’

‘The investigation went on for several months. But all the hard-core animal rights extremists were in the clear because they had alibis. That’s what’s been so hard, I think. I got over the physical injuries a long time ago—I was young—I healed. But the psychological effect has never left me—partly because I never had anyone to blame. This totally unknown person turned my whole life upside down that morning—they detonated it. Literally. And to this day I have no idea who that person was, or what it was that motivated them.’ A silence descended, punctuated only by the hum of the engine.

‘And would you want to know? I mean, if it were possible to find out? Would you want to know who they were?’

‘Well, that’s not very likely as it was so long ago.’

‘But if you could, somehow, discover who it was—would you want to find out?’

‘Yes. I would. Of course I would. I’d like to come face to face with that person.’

I felt my sternum tighten, as though a large screw was being turned in my chest. ‘And then what?’ I whispered. ‘What would you do?’

‘What would I do?’ he repeated blankly. ‘I really don’t know.’

‘Do you think you’d be able to forgive them?’

‘
Forgive
them? Do you think you could forgive the men who mugged you?’

‘Well, if they said that they were truly sorry for what they did and gave me back my things—not that that’s a very
likely
scenario—then yes, I probably could. If someone’s genuinely contrite, you
have
to forgive them—don’t you? Don’t you?’ I persisted. ‘Tell me.’

‘These are difficult questions, Miranda. I don’t know.’

‘But I want to know whether you, personally, could forgive the person who…who put that bomb through the door?’ I watched his face strobing in the streetlights as I waited for an answer.

‘No,’ he said. My heart stopped. ‘I couldn’t. Or at least, I don’t
think
I could. Some things can never be forgiven. Why should they be? I’ve photographed too many unforgivable things, Miranda, to feel that.’ He was turning right now, into the Mews. ‘Anyway, I’m glad I’ve told you about it. I wanted to tell you last week but I thought it was a bit heavy for a first date. I was worried that it might horrify you,’ he added.
It does horrify me. It does, it does…
‘Anyway, here we are.’ He’d stopped right outside the house. Shall I see you to your door?’ he asked.

I smiled. ‘It’s all right, David. I don’t think we can get any closer.’

He took my hand, then leaned forward. ‘Well, actually. I think we can.’ And now he took my face in his hands, and pulled me towards him, then I felt his lips on mine, pressing gently at first, then slightly harder, and I felt myself kissing him back.

‘You’re lovely, Miranda,’ he murmured.
Would you be saying that if you knew who I was?
‘You’re lovely. You intrigue me.’

I panicked.
You can’t do this until he knows
. I undid my seat belt and opened my door. ‘I—’

David saw my expression. ‘I know,’ he said gently. ‘It’s too soon, Miranda—isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ I replied quietly. ‘I think it’s too soon.’

CHAPTER 9

‘He
kissed
you!’ Daisy almost shouted on Monday.

‘Please, shhhh, Daisy,’ I hissed. We were in the Heals café where we’d met for a quick lunch. It was crowded, but we’d managed to get a corner table.

‘He kissed you,’ she repeated, in an awe-struck whisper. ‘
Blimey
. Anything else?’

‘No.’

‘You mean it was just a kiss?’

‘Yes. A goodnight kiss. That’s all it was.’

‘Where?’

‘In his car.’

‘
No
. Cheek or lips?’

‘Oh. Lips, since you ask.’ I felt my insides suffuse with warmth at the memory.

‘Blimey,’ she said again. ‘
Then
what?’

‘Then I thanked him for a lovely evening, opened the door and got out.’

‘Didn’t you ask him in?’

‘No—I didn’t feel it was right.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I was in turmoil after the conversation we’d just had. But I’ll be seeing him again.’

‘When?’

‘On Friday. He phoned me last night and asked me to keep it free.’

‘I bet he wanted to do more than kiss you,’ Daisy added knowingly as she sipped her coffee.

‘Yes. I think he did. In fact, I know he did—although it’s much too soon. I mean, I’ve only met him three times, Daisy. And in any case, he thinks I’m holding back because I’m still getting over Alexander.’

‘Aren’t you?’

‘Well, yes—and no. I’m not heartbroken about Alexander, I’m just angry and disappointed. I told David what happened.’

‘Good. I bet he was horrified.’

‘He was, rather.’

‘So you’re getting closer to him?’

‘I am.’

‘Things with your photographer are
developing
then,’ she giggled. ‘You’re
clicking
with him?’ I rolled my eyes. ‘And did you flirt with him?’

‘No. I find it impossible.’ I lowered my voice to a barely audible whisper. ‘I mean, how
do
you flirt with someone whom you once caused GBH?’

‘Hmm. That would be rather…inhibiting.’

‘It
is
. But I think that’s partly why he likes me, because he thinks I’m so “mysterious”. But I’m not. I’m just sitting there in an agony of apprehension. But, ironically,
that’s
why he’s attracted to me. Because he finds me, what was it? “Intriguing.”’

Daisy shook her head. ‘He’s attracted to you because he’s attracted to you, Miranda. Anyway, back to the matter in hand. How to tell him… How
are
you going to tell him?’

I groaned quietly. ‘I don’t
know
. The more I see him, the
more I
want
to tell him—and yet, at the same time, the
less
I want to, in case he never sees me again. And he actually talked about it this time, Daisy. About what happened. So I asked him whether he could ever forgive the person who’d done it, and he replied that he didn’t think that he
could
.’

‘But if he knew it was you—he might.’

‘I don’t know. I can’t assume that. It’s such a
big
thing. But I need him to forgive me because I’m…’

‘Falling in love with him?’

I stared at her. ‘Maybe. Yes, maybe I am. I find him very…attractive.’

‘Then wait until he’s fallen in love with
you
.’

I sipped my cappuccino, momentarily tempted; then I put down my cup. ‘I can’t. It would be dishonest.’

‘Yes,’ she sighed. ‘You’re right. Of course you are. He’d feel that you’d deceived him. Well—you have a moral dilemma on your hands.’ A silence descended, then the waitress brought the bill.

‘Do you know what else David said?’ I went on as I reached for my bag. ‘That his father’s work didn’t even involve animal experiments. I don’t know
why
Jimmy did it. I just don’t
understand
. And I really need to.’

‘Then ask him,’ she said simply. ‘Write to him at the House of Commons.’

‘But the letter would get read by his press officer.’

‘Then send it to his home.’

‘His wife might see it.’

‘Then just ask to see him at work, and speak to him in private.’

‘I know what would happen if I did. He’d refuse to see me, and, if I insisted, then he’d accuse me of trying to blackmail him. He’s got powerful friends, Daisy. He could go to the press and say that I was harassing him—he’d totally discredit
me. He’d tell them that I used to be infatuated with him—which is true. He’d tell them that I wrote him these pathetic letters saying that I’d do anything for him.’

‘But you were only sixteen then, Miranda!’

‘So what? The tabloids won’t care. But the point is that I don’t
want
to see Jimmy again, Daisy. This is about
my
conscience—not his. Not that he seems to have one—the lucky bastard. It must make his life rather easy.’

‘You’re very hard on yourself, Miranda,’ Daisy said suddenly. She glanced left and right to make sure we couldn’t be overheard. ‘I mean, it’s not as though
you
made that bomb—is it?’ she whispered. ‘You didn’t even know there
was
one. You genuinely thought it was a video.’

‘That’s what Jimmy said. He said that it was a video about neurological experiments on vervet monkeys, to prick Professor White’s conscience—and I had no reason to doubt that’s what it was.’

‘I can understand you feeling awful at being involved,’ Daisy went on, ‘but you weren’t responsible for what happened so I don’t see why you feel
quite
so guilt-racked.’

‘For the simple reason that I didn’t speak
out
. I knew, absolutely, that I should tell
someone
—my parents, a teacher, or the police; but, in order to protect myself, I kept quiet—and
that’s
why I feel so bad. And my silence must have made it far worse for David because he never got closure on what happened to him. He still hasn’t. That’s obvious.’ We handed the waitress our credit cards.

‘But why did Jimmy think he could get away with it?’ Daisy whispered.

‘Because he knew he was above suspicion.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he’d publicly condemned violence so many times. He’d written articles in the local paper saying it was wrong,
and attacking the ALF, so everyone thought him principled and brave. That’s what he used to say to me too. He said that better treatment of animals would only come about through a hearts and minds campaign.’

‘So he’d put himself above board?’

‘Yes. But I
wasn’t
above board, because of my history. And I was terrified that the police would come looking for me—I kept waiting for the knock on the door. But they didn’t come—perhaps because they knew I’d never done anything violent. In any case, there were enough genuine extremists round there to keep them busy—not that it ever led to an arrest.’

‘What if you went to one of the newspapers about Jimmy?’

‘Then I’d automatically be shopping myself. I want to tell David first, and see how he reacts. And if
he
decides to go to lawyers then I can’t stop him. But it has to be
his
choice.’

‘You are brave,’ Daisy said as we stood up. ‘This could have terrible consequences for you.’

‘Yes,’ I said quietly. ‘I know. But I also know that I simply
have
to tell David. And I do want to—and equally I
don’t
want to. It’s like having one foot on the brake and the other on the accelerator. It’s psychological stalemate.’

‘Well, I’m sure you’ll find a way.’
But when?
‘Anyway,’ Daisy went on, ‘can we just have a look downstairs before I fly back to the office? I’ve got to try and find a present for Nigel’s fortieth.’ We went down the wooden spiral staircase to the ground floor. ‘Maybe I’ll get him a really nice rug. He
is
going to have a party, by the way,’ she added as we flipped through the pile of kelims. ‘You know that old friend of his you met at the barbecue? Alan? The barrister? He phoned me on Friday to discuss Nigel’s birthday. So I just said that I’d be taking Nigel out to dinner somewhere, but he said that he thought Nigel really ought to have a proper party—a
surprise
party—and that he’d arrange it with that other friend of theirs, Jon. So I said that was fine and Alan phoned me this morning to say they’ve booked the venue.’

‘Where?’

‘At the zoo.’

‘The zoo?’

‘Yes, you can have parties there, apparently. I’ve never been to one myself,’ she went on, as we looked at the glass-ware. ‘It’s going to be on the day itself—August the second. They were very lucky that it was available at such short notice.’

‘Are you going to arrange it?’

She shook her head. ‘The zoo do it all, which is great as I haven’t got time. All I’m doing is sending the invites—I sneaked the addresses from Nigel’s Filofax. I’m asking about seventy people.’

‘I hope you don’t have to ask that colleague of his, Mary. I thought she was rather unpleasant at the barbecue,’ I added, though I wasn’t going to tell Daisy why.