Playing Grace (44 page)

‘In my crazed state, I had a moment of insight – Bill was loads of things, but the main one was competitive. He always had to be the centre of attention, head of the herd. He got so jealous if any other artist got more publicity or a better deal than he did.’

She tried to gauge what Tate might be thinking from his expression but couldn’t. ‘Anyway,’ she went on briskly, ‘I figured that if I slept with another man, he’d get jealous and want me back. I chose his best friend, Patrick, because, I’m ashamed to say, I knew he’d always had a bit of a thing for me. It got a good reaction. Patrick and he fell out and
Bill was all over me again.’ She put her hand to her mouth and took it away again. ‘God, this is so hard to tell you, Tate. Using Patrick like that was disgusting.’

‘Second honeymoon last long?’ Tate asked, looking off down the street.

‘Couple of weeks. And when it had cooled again, Bill said I should keep experimenting with new men. We could still get together from time to time, I could stay living in the villa, but really I should follow my instincts from now on.’

‘My instinct at this moment is to tell Bill he’s a turd.’

She reached out and patted his knee. ‘Thank you. I should have done that and then left. Instead I hung around – guess I couldn’t face going home and getting all that chest-beating from Mum about turning my back on such a funny, rebellious, maverick genius as Bill. And I still loved him.’ She clicked her tongue. ‘Young idiot.’

‘Not disagreeing with that.’

‘I tried to tell Bill I didn’t want an open anything, but he brushed my objections aside. So I thought I’d show him how wrong he was and how much seeing me with other men would hurt. My behaviour got wilder. I started to work my way through the men we knew – although to be honest, they were starting to avoid me and Bill; they knew a train wreck when they saw one. Then it was strangers I met in bars, on the beach. I’d invite them back to the villa, hoping
to get a reaction from Bill. Nothing. He was besotted with a seventeen-year-old Portuguese girl at that time. Said she made him paint better than he ever had.’

Tate said something under his breath that sounded vicious and she hoped it was aimed at Bill.

‘I was still losing large stretches of time to drink and I started experimenting with heavier drugs. Mainly pills, coke.’

‘Heroin?’ He had on his ancient face again.

‘No … well … I smoked it once or twice, but I was too scared of it. Zin, she got into it when she left school. Boy-friend. I saw what it did, how hard she had to struggle to get clear of it … on methadone for a long time.’

‘She’s clean now?’

‘Oh yeah. Completely gone the other way. Her body is a temple. But it took it out of the family. Felicity was a brick, though; the one time I’ve seen her put herself at the back of the queue. Now I’d say her and Zin are the closest of us all.’

She stopped talking as a woman with a small dog on a lead came past. The dog seemed all skin and no hair and when it sniffed at Tate he shooed it away, giving the woman a look that told her to move it along.

‘So, you were sleeping your way through northern Spain …’ Tate said, when the dog had been jerked away.

‘Yes. And now it seemed that everything I did created a kind of chaotic backwash. There was a guy selling necklaces on the beach. We had sex on the sand when the front was deserted, except it wasn’t and someone called the police. I got away without being recognised but the guy got picked up. They sent him back to North Africa. I went with a pickpocket in town, Ramón, who, surprise, surprise, stole all my cash. So I slept with his brother too and when Ramón found out, he stabbed him in the leg. Turned out he was capable of more jealousy than Bill.’ She was starting to feel a bit sick because she could see Tate was having a hard time keeping a neutral look on his face.

She ploughed on. ‘Was on a bike with one guy, coming back from a trip up in the hills. We had a crash. He broke both his legs; I just bounced I was so drunk. I picked up a businessman, God knows how – I was looking a wreck by then – and while he was sleeping I nicked his bag. Thought there might be some cash in it I could use for drugs. When I found out there was only some files, I threw it in a skip. Turned out he worked for a military contractor, shouldn’t have taken the files out of the office. He lost his job … big fuss in the Spanish papers.’

Tate nodded slowly when she stopped, his lips pressed together. ‘How many?’ he said eventually.

‘How many would be too many?’

He didn’t answer, seemed to be watching the small dog and its owner who hadn’t made much progress along the street. Grace watched them too until they went into a building.

‘The ones I can remember … twenty or so. Over about three months.’

‘Oh well,’ he said before surprising her with a hearty, ‘Way to go, Gracie.’

‘What?’

‘Well, it’s going some, but it’s not major league stuff. And the things that happened to the guys weren’t just down to you. They had free will, Gracie – their decisions as much as yours. Seems to me women are always getting the “Jezebel” label stuck on them when we all know it takes two to tango.’

‘Are you listening to me? I was out of control. I wasn’t getting any pleasure from it, doubt I was giving any either. And know what my
pièce de résistance
was? I slept with Bill’s own son. That’s how bad I was. Kept the worst till last. His own son.’ She wondered why she was so desperate for him to judge her.

‘That’ll hurt,’ was all he said.

‘It did, Tate. More damage. I am so, so ashamed of myself. Scott he was called – a horrible, spoilt brat, just a couple
of years older than me. I had some weird idea Bill would come to heel this time, and Scott was on some kind of kick to hurt Bill … that father–son thing—’

‘Yup, know all about that. Go on, Gracie.’

‘We did it in the pool where we knew Bill would see us from his studio. He went ballistic, nearly drowned the pair of us. Upshot was Scott left San Sebastián next day with a broken jaw and Bill had a couple of cracked ribs, a broken foot and a sprained wrist.’

‘Hope it was his painting arm.’

‘Is that all you can say?’

‘How about, “Jeez, what a nice family”?’

‘And I split it up,’ she almost screamed. ‘I don’t think they’ve ever spoken since. What kind of woman does that? It was like I was collecting scalps … hoovering up men. I mean, God, where would I have drawn the line?’

‘Calm down, Gracie. Just get on with it. So, Bill chucked you out?’

She took a deep breath and forced it back out quickly, trying to steady herself. ‘No. Forgave me. Said he admired my spirit, what I was prepared to do to get his attention again. We went back to how we were for a good couple of months.’ She paused and thought about how attentive Bill had seemed and knew she wouldn’t be able to keep the bitterness out of her voice. ‘Except we didn’t really go back
– I was just desperate to interpret it like that. He wanted me by his side all the time. He even let me hold his paints as he worked in the studio. It took a while for me to realise that he was using me as a kind of nurse with benefits. He couldn’t hold his paints himself his wrist was so bad. He couldn’t even get dressed or walk to a bar without my help. Great, eh? Lover to nurse via whore.’

‘Don’t want to hear you calling yourself that, Gracie,’ Tate said sharply.

When she didn’t reply he reached out and gave her a nudge. ‘You wanna hear a few things about my past to make you feel better? He rubbed his hands together. ‘OK, I had a thing with two women at once when I first when to college.’

‘Two-timing is hardly comparable,’ she said miserably.

‘No, you don’t get it. It was one of those
ménage à trois
things. Like your sister.’

She had a vision of two women coiled around Tate and knew she had no right to feel the jealousy she was experiencing.

Tate was grinning, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. ‘Kid in a sweet shop to start with and then like piggy in the middle. Sex was great, emotional meltdown not so good.’

‘Jealousy and back-biting?’

‘Back-biting and front-biting. Stereo angst. Made you feel better yet?’

She shook her head and steadfastly watched a bus pass, seeing the poster on the side blur.

‘Oh Gracie, Gracie,’ he said softly. ‘Come on, look, here’s another thing. Racked up a load of debt on my course and this guy said he knew an older woman needed a handyman. I go round to her apartment – big, swanky place and turns out it wasn’t the apartment needed a hand.’

Grace stopped watching the traffic. ‘You mean—’

‘Yup. And you know what? She paid well. And I tried to give value for money.’

‘How old was she?’

‘How old’s too old?’ he shot back with a grin. ‘Oh, come on, Gracie. Get over it. You slept around a lot, screwed a father and son and, yeah, some bad things happened, but you didn’t set out to make them happen. You weren’t killing and maiming and all those really bad things people do to each other. You were lost and lashing out. It’s not worth dragging about like a chain.’

She wished she could hold on to this moment of forgiveness – keep soaring for as long as possible before the big dive.

‘That’s not all,’ she said bleakly. ‘There is more. Worse.’

He nodded his head as if indulging her. ‘Then get it out.
Offload it so we can talk about some happier things, like why you love the icons so much.’ He leaned in closer. ‘’Cos I have to tell you, I think this is one time I’ve been paying attention to the signs.’

Oh God. She hadn’t expected to arrive by this particular route, but here they were. She felt as if he’d just pressed the button in a lift and they were hurtling down from the top floor.

‘And what do they mean, Tate?’ she said very slowly.

‘I think they mean you want to settle down, have a family. It’s that security thing again, isn’t it, that need to feel settled? That’s why you’re so passionate about them, popping in between tours to get your fill. And hey, I don’t know if I’m ready for all that yet, but it’s not a turnoff, Gracie, not—’

‘No, Tate. You’ve got it wrong. It’s not about wanting a baby, it’s about losing one. Mine and Bill’s. I got pregnant during that time I was being his nurse and then I had a miscarriage and it was my fault. Utterly. Absolutely.’ She stopped, then wound herself up enough to speak again. ‘When I visit the icons I’m trying to say sorry, ask for forgiveness. It’s all I can do … that and keep myself on a tight rein, make sure I never slide again.’

She wasn’t sure he’d understood what she was saying because she had fluffed the end bit, her voice cracking,
and she made herself keep looking at him to see how bad it was. He was standing up quickly. She saw him walk to the taxi, and she thought that was it – the last view she’d have of him. But he wasn’t getting into it; he was talking to the driver. She heard the engine die. Saw the driver pick up a newspaper and start to read it.

He was back with her.

‘You’ll miss your train,’ she said.

‘Forget the train. Move over.’ She shifted and he sat next to her. ‘Tell me about losing the baby, Gracie. Tell me how it was your fault.’

She wished she had a tissue, but she used her coat sleeve instead.

‘It was my fault because I was so badly out of control that it took me a long time to realise that I wasn’t feeling lousy because I had a hangover, or I hadn’t eaten for a day, but because I was pregnant. I’d been on the pill since I left England … but I guess I was throwing up so much by that point, the protection it was offering was barely nil. By the time it got through to my addled brain that I hadn’t had a period, I was about seven weeks pregnant.’ She turned to him. ‘I should never have allowed myself to get pregnant in that state.’

‘Allowed?’ He was looking confused. ‘I don’t think you mean that, do you? It was sheer chance … you were playing
Russian roulette with all that sex and hardly any protection. It could have happened with any of those other guys, couldn’t it?’

‘No. With those other guys I always used a condom as well. I didn’t with Bill.’ She saw his disbelieving look. ‘What? Weren’t you listening when I told you what low-lifes some of them were?’

He burst out laughing. ‘So, even when you were drunk out of your skull, high as a kite, you were careful?’

She nodded. ‘Felicity always drummed into us that it was romantic to be barefoot and pregnant, not barefoot and HIV positive. Or syphilitic. One of the few lessons she taught me. Barefoot and pregnant by your one true love was the ultimate goal in her book.’ She looked at the pavement. ‘Barefoot! Can’t remember the last time I took off my shoes outside.’

‘But what about Bill, Gracie? How come you didn’t get yourself an all-over condom before you went back to bed with him? He wasn’t a “true” love, he was a philandering shit. He must have been racking up the partner miles.’

‘Yes. That fact kind of went under my radar. Blinded by passion, you see, and Felicity’s brainwashing. And I was so grateful to be back in his bed that I conveniently forgot the women who had been filling in for me.’ She checked on his expression and couldn’t read it. ‘Anyway, luckily,
miraculously, I only caught one thing from Bill – a baby, and he really wasn’t pleased about it.’

‘No shit.’

‘Babies were a drain on his creativity. He hadn’t hung around to help bring up Scott; he wasn’t getting saddled in his forties with another child.’

‘So he wanted you to have an abortion?’

‘Yes. To go back home and have it. Get rid of me and the baby in one go, I think. But that was never going to happen, because within a couple of hours of me looking at the test result and thinking my life was ruined, I suddenly wanted that baby more than I wanted Bill. More than I wanted anything. Can’t describe it …’ She allowed herself to think back to that time, to feeling as if she’d done something miraculous and now the world wasn’t going to be about her for a while; it was going to be about what she could give this baby. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and didn’t care that when she sniffed it sounded thick and unpleasant.

‘Told Bill I was having the baby and I wasn’t going back home like some disgraced serving wench. I dug my heels in. He went into sulk overdrive and I, well, I started trying to clean up my act. No drinking, no smoking, steered clear of the drugs … proper meals at proper times.’ She smiled grimly. ‘Didn’t happen overnight. Struggled with it. But I was getting there. And I got the villa cleaned top to bottom.
Ordered all sorts of baby books too. I was going to bask in the sun, getting fatter and fatter and learning how to be a good mum. A mum who was nothing like Felicity. I wasn’t just going to love this baby; I was going to teach it everything.’ She wiped her nose on her sleeve again. ‘Used to talk to it in the night, tell it that I was going to protect it and watch it grow into a good person. Keep it away from all the mistakes I’d made.’