Here We Lie (15 page)

Emily sat back against her pillows. Her room was a mix of the little girl she was growing out of, revealed by the row of teddy bears under the window, and the adult she was eager to become, as
evidenced by the large heap of make-up on the floor by the bed and the tiny-cupped bra draped over the back of the chair. Martin noticed the bra in passing. Some of his friends were obsessed with
tits, but Martin didn’t really see the point of them – sexually, that was.

‘I hear you’re upset,’ Martin ventured, smoothing his hand over the duvet. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Just Rosie being mean.’ Emily scowled. ‘She thinks she knows how to be a mum but she’s pants at it.’

Martin pursed his lips. If Rose were in the room, he was certain she would be urging him to defend her. But that was likely just to wind Emily up – and Martin didn’t want a row.
There was enough drama in his life without that. He thought of Mum. He missed her every day. In the two long years since she and Dad had died, Martin had often wished he could have talked to her
again. He would have liked to have taken her out too, to her favourite restaurant, and made her laugh over wine and salad. She hadn’t been happy with Dad – she’d more or less told
Martin that. Not that he could tell anyone now.

But Mum was gone and no one else at home knew his secret. At school he was still pretending to like girls, to joke with the others about who he thought was hot – and not. But away from the
sixth form and the need to fit in, Martin was starting to find himself. In bars and on the street looks would be exchanged and interest shown and felt – and sometimes acted on.

Martin knew who he was and he wasn’t ashamed of it. But being open about it was another matter altogether. He wanted to talk. He was ready to talk. He was just waiting for the right
moment.

‘What’s the matter?’ Emily narrowed her eyes.

Martin cleared his throat, remembering why he was here. ‘I know Rose can be a bit harsh.’

‘Yeah, she’s a fucking
fascist
.’

‘Well, maybe you could show her how to deal with you better?’

‘How?’

‘Tell her how you feel, what you want.’

‘I
do
.’ Emily let out a low moan. ‘She doesn’t
listen
. She treats me like a baby.’

‘You have to be honest about how you really feel . . .’ Martin stopped. What was he doing? How could he lecture his sister on honesty, when he had been afraid for so long to tell
her, to tell anyone he knew, who he really was.

He’d talked to Mum. And Mum had died, which had – he saw it now – totally freaked him out, like it was a jinx. But that was in the past. It was time to be open about the
future.
His
future. And there was no one he trusted more to accept him as he was than his little sister.

‘What is it?’ Emily asked.

It was time. Martin took a deep breath and then he told her.

Dan answers on the second ring.

‘Em?’ His voice is a mix of concern and delight. Something inside me shifts; I am reassured just by the familiarity of that deep, Essex-boy accent. Is it because Dan and I were so
close once? Or just that Dan sounds like I do, unlike Jed, whose own accent is subtly but distinctly posher, so that when he says ‘years’ it sounds like ‘yahs’.

‘Em?’ Dan falters slightly. ‘Is that you?’

I hesitate. Dan’s voice may sound familiar, but it’s been a long time since I knew Dan himself. I have to keep remembering he is a stranger now.

‘I . . . I’ve been thinking about what you told me,’ I say. ‘I’d like to meet up again.’

‘Right.’ There’s a pause. ‘Okay, that’s good, Em.’ Dan suggests a pub near King’s Cross. I vaguely remember going with him there before, ten years ago.
At the time Dan lived in a rundown house share on Caledonian Road, but when he and I moved in together we rented a flat south of the river, so I could stay closer to Rose. At first life in our
one-bed flat in Camberwell was bliss, then Dan started staying out later and later in the evenings. Sometimes I’d join him, but mostly he was off with the lads, his east London friends,
drinking pint after pint and rolling in drunk around midnight. He was always pleased to see me but I hated it. It was like he wanted me to be at home waiting for him, but didn’t want to come
back there himself until the evening was almost over. At first I tried to be patient, then I grew angry. We started arguing, which just led Dan to stay away even more often. Finally, I said I
thought I should move back in with Rose, hoping it would be the moment he came to his senses but instead he nodded and said he’d been thinking the same thing. I moved out, deeply hurt, and
the following week Dan announced he’d decided to take a new job in the States. There was never any talk that I might have gone with him. Or that we should keep the relationship going while he
was away. My blood still chills at the memory of Dan telling me very matter-of-factly that his move offered us the chance of a natural break.

I am already dressed in jeans and a jumper. I consider changing tops, but I don’t want Dan to think I’m dressing up for him, so I just tug on a jacket and some
boots. I could wait for Jed to come home to explain what I’m doing, but Zoe will undoubtedly keep him talking when he drops Lish and, anyway, I don’t want to mention I’m seeing
Dan. Unlike other men I’ve known, Jed refuses to express any curiosity about my past: ‘I’d rather imagine you were a virgin when I met you,’ he always says, and I’ve
seen the flashes of jealousy on the few occasions when I’ve referred to my heartbreak over Dan. So I simply leave a note saying I’ve popped out to attempt some Christmas shopping.
It’s not much of a lie. Christmas Day is less than two weeks away and I have over half my presents still to buy.

I am wearing my engagement ring as I always do and I twist it around my finger as I hurry to the nearest underground. Dan could be married with a family now. Our last meeting was so short, so
intense, there was no time for those kind of questions. It is freezing as I leave Caledonian Road tube station and scurry towards the pub where I’m meeting Dan. I can see him through the
window as I approach, bent over his phone at a table in the corner. I take advantage of the fact that he hasn’t noticed me yet to have a long look at him. The stubble on his chin is still
there, but he is wearing more casual clothes than before: jeans and a cream and black-flecked woollen jumper. He looks perfectly relaxed.

I, on the other hand, am now feeling anxious. As I hesitate Dan looks up. He sees me and his face breaks into a huge smile. It lights up his entire face and leaves me with no choice but to go
inside the pub.

‘Hi.’ Dan stands as I reach him. I sense he wants to kiss me on the cheek. He doesn’t, however, simply asking: ‘What can I get you?’

I hesitate again. Somehow asking for a drink would make this feel like an illicit date.

‘Nothing.’ I sit down opposite him, still wearing my jacket. Dan frowns, but sits down too.

The pub is half-empty; most of the customers are gathered around a TV at the far end watching a football match. Ten years ago, Dan’s eyes would have wandered everywhere, checking out all
the punters, the football score, the passersby outside. But right now he keeps his stone-grey eyes fixed on me.

‘You look cold,’ he says. ‘Are you sure you don’t want a drink?’ He indicates the pint glass on the table in front of him. ‘I’m on beer, but they do
good coffee here if you’re not ready for alcohol.’

I look around. The pub is barely recognizable from when we used to come here all those years ago; it’s been redecorated with leather couches and rickety-looking reclaimed wood tables.

‘D’you remember coming here?’ Dan asks.

I nod. Dan is still watching me intently. His cool, appraising gaze unsettles me, as it always did. I look away. This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be here. I want to leave but I don’t
know how to tell Dan it has been a mistake. And then he reaches across the table and touches my shoulder.

‘Relax,’ he says. ‘Breathe.’

I let out a sigh, releasing my tense shoulders. The radiator beside the table is blasting out heat. Maybe I should take my jacket off and just get on with this.

Dan sits back as I slide the jacket off and the barmaid slouches over. She’s very young and rather pretty, with slanting eyes and a beauty spot on her cheek. She fixes her eyes on Dan and
smiles.

‘Hiya.’

Dan flashes a smile back and I swear the girl blushes. ‘What can I get your, er, friend?’ She’s asking about me though so far she hasn’t taken her eyes off Dan.

Dan looks across at me and raises his eyebrows.

‘Coffee, please.’ I glance at the board on the wall behind her. ‘Flat white.’

‘Thank you.’ Dan grins at the girl again and she sashays off.

‘Waitress service in a pub?’ I comment, letting an acerbic note creep into my voice. ‘Aren’t
you
the valued customer?’

Dan shrugs. ‘They’re just not very busy. I’ve only been in here a couple of times since I got back from the States.’

Outside, the first few flakes of snow are floating through the air. A child in a passing pushchair is pointing into the sky. Dan sits, waiting. His stillness is somehow both calming and
unnerving. I look down at the table. It’s rough to the touch, with a panel in the middle painted a greeny-blue. The colour reminds me of our old kitchen table. Some of my earliest and
happiest memories took place kneeling on a chair at that table: just my mother and I, baking cakes for Martin and Rose when they came home from school. I look up, into Dan’s eyes. I see
intelligence and compassion. And curiosity.

‘I don’t think Lish likes me as much as he pretends to.’

Dan nods. I’m dreading him asking me what makes me think this; I really don’t want to have to tell him about the Facebook entry or the
IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU
text or the look
Lish gave me earlier. Much to my relief Dan doesn’t ask for explanations.

‘What about drugs? Have you seen anything that makes you think he’s using? Or selling?’

‘No, well, no actual drugs, but I did see a roll of banknotes in his bag. Jed gives him plenty of money, but that was definitely more than you’d expect for a student.’

‘Right.’ Dan looks thoughtful. ‘So it’s worth investigating, d’you agree?’

I waver for a moment, then nod. ‘I suppose, but I still think it’s far-fetched that he could be involved in any major dealing, let alone have anything remotely to do with potassium
cyanide.’

‘Okay.’

There’s a long pause, but not an uncomfortable one. The silence between us is not awkward at all, I realize, it’s just the pace at which we’re talking, the pace at which
I’m adapting to the fact that we’re talking. It’s a pace which I’m setting and Dan is following.

He still hasn’t taken his eyes off me. As I look up at him he smiles.

‘You used to talk more,’ I say.

‘You used to be fairly chatty yourself.’ He grins. ‘The night I met you I couldn’t shut you up. Now we’ve had two coffees together and you’ve got nothing to
say. I must be losing my touch.’

I smile back and glance at the barmaid who is heading towards us, my coffee in her hand.

‘I don’t think so.’ I watch the girl as she places the cup on the rough wood of the table, slopping it slightly in the process. She glances coyly at Dan as he pays, then says
thank you and wiggles off again without looking once in my direction.

Dan keeps his eyes fixed on me. ‘I’m a reporter, Em,’ he says. ‘Mostly it works to let the other person talk. In your case, I’m not quite sure what I should
do.’

‘You’re doing fine.’ As soon as I’ve spoken, I can feel my cheeks flush. I didn’t mean to sound so encouraging. I hurry on. ‘So what do you think we should do
now?’

Dan lowers his voice. ‘I’m going to go back to Lish’s university campus. I already know he’s dealing. Maybe now I can arrange a meeting, actually talk to him, find out
exactly what he supplies.’

I stare at him, aghast. ‘You’re going to pretend you want to buy
drugs
from him?’

Dan shrugs. ‘It’s like an undercover investigation, a sting. No biggie.’

‘Jesus.’ I let out a sigh. ‘Oh, but Lish isn’t actually at uni this weekend. Jed’s just dropping him at his mum’s now in fact. He said his plan was to go back
to college on Monday evening.’

Dan nods. He’s silent for a moment, then he looks up at me. ‘Em, I’ve got an idea,’ he says, still keeping his voice low. ‘You’ll probably think it’s
mad, but have you ever been to Lish’s college? Do any of his friends there know you?’

‘No,’ I say. ‘Why?’

‘Well, right now you only have my word that Lish is involved with any kind of illegal activity, so why don’t you come to his uni with me on Monday morning before Lish goes back? That
way you’ll be able to see for yourself what he’s up to.’

‘What? I’ve got work, there’s Jed. I
can’t
.’

‘Of course you can. Southampton is only a couple of hours away. We can be there and back before Jed’s home from work. You can call in sick at school. Once we’re there I can
take you to the pub where he’s known as a dealer. If you think there’s enough to go on, I’ll put you on a train home and I’ll stay on into the evening and try to meet him
direct on Monday night when he’s back. What do you think?’

My heart races. ‘Why are you doing this? Why do you want to help me?’

There’s a long pause. When Dan finally speaks he picks his way carefully across the words. ‘Because I’m worried that the son of the man you are going to marry has tried to kill
you and may try again. Because I might have walked out of your life eight years ago, but I still care about you. And because I
can
help you so I
should
.’

‘Right.’ Hearing Dan spell out everything like that makes me feel lost. Everything I had thought was certain has been stood on its head. I suddenly wish Rose was here. She has such a
strong sense of what’s right and wrong, a morality she got from our parents which she has always tried to instil into me.

‘Just think about coming with me to Southampton.’ Dan glugs down the rest of his beer then replaces the glass on the table. ‘Would you like another drink?’