The English Boys (12 page)

Carey pulled on a jacket and glanced at Daniel, trying to gauge what he was thinking, but she couldn't.

“All right then,” she said. “Let's go.”

Outside, Daniel insisted they take a cab though it was only a ten minute walk. They stood under the eave of the shop across the road from Monaghan's flat, Daniel smoking while Nick sulked. Carey wondered if the door of Monaghan's building would ever open.

“Why don't we just ring him?” she asked.

“It would be better to run into him,” Daniel answered, tossing his cigarette on the ground.

“You shouldn't smoke.”

“You sound like—”

“Like what?” she asked. “A doctor?”

“Never mind.”

Nick touched her sleeve. “Look, there he is.”

Daniel stood with his back to Monaghan, looking at Carey. “Is he coming this way?”

“No,” she replied. “He's going the other way.”

Daniel turned and began walking after him, with Carey and Nick a short distance behind. They followed Monaghan three blocks, but when he turned a corner, they lost him.

“We need to split up,” Daniel said, pointing to the right. “You try that direction. Ring if you see him. Don't talk to him without me.”

Daniel watched as Nick followed Carey into a lane crowded with restaurants, and then he turned and went in the other direction. The shops and cafés were bustling with midday activity. Restaurants were serving meals out of doors, and patrons clustered in noisy groups around small tables. He scoured the crowds, wondering which way Monaghan had gone. He noticed a movement in the doorway of a small shop and plunged in, working his way through tables of merchandise to reach the door to a back room. A couple of employees were working at a large desk, and they sat up in alarm when he burst in.

“Oi!” one of the girls shouted.

He paid no attention, striding through to the back door and letting it slam behind him. In the alleyway, he moved faster, breaking into a sprint. He skirted the bins and boxes littering the pavement until he came to the end of the alley, where he found a slightly open door. It was a tall, dark building, and he pushed the door fully open without stepping inside. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he entered the room and looked around. It was some kind of warehouse. There were boxes everywhere, alongside abandoned chairs and tables. Then suddenly, he saw a figure coming out of the shadows.

Before he could react, Monaghan punched him in the stomach, a hard blow that left him gasping for breath. Daniel hadn't fought since primary school, but he threw a fist at Monaghan's jaw, which made contact. It felt like iron, but he saw that it drew blood. Monaghan jabbed back, catching him in the shoulder, and then reached a hand up to wipe the blood trickling from his lip.

“What the fuck are you following me for?” Monaghan asked, leaning in close. His hair was short and spiked, and he had a stud earring in one ear. He was tall and muscled, the sort who would be a problem if the fight escalated any further.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Get out. I've got nothing to say to you.”

“It's about Tamsyn.”

Monaghan spit some of the blood onto the floor. “What makes you think I know anything about Tamsyn?”

“You were at the wedding.”

“Guess they just let anyone in.”

Daniel ignored the sarcasm. “Carey and I are talking to some of her friends about the last time they spoke to her.”

“Carey has no business looking into this mess, and if you're encouraging it, you're putting her in danger.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Hell yes, I'm threatening you. Stay out of it. You're not the fucking police.”

“When was the last time you saw her? Just tell me that.”

“Are you accusing me of something?” Monaghan asked, narrowing his eyes and taking another step closer. “Do you think I hurt her?”

“Did you?” Daniel asked, staring into his black eyes.

“Fuck you.”

Daniel didn't see the last blow coming. This time, it completely winded him. He sank down on one knee to catch his breath. After a couple of seconds, he stood, but Monaghan was already gone. He took his mobile out of his pocket and dialed Carey's number.

“Found him,” he said, holding an aching rib.

“Is he with you?”

“He's gone. Where are you?”

“We're in front of Archer's. Do you know it?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I'll be there in a minute.”

He found the café nearby. The building was an anonymous gray brick, espaliered with thick ivy that made him think of the countryside instead of a restaurant in the middle of busy London. Inside, it was almost empty. A middle-aged American couple sat at a table having an argument, and in the corner, an older woman sat alone, taking the occasional drink of tea and knitting to pass the time. A couple of young girls stood in the corner, texting instead of talking. They chose a table and ordered coffees.

“He won't cooperate,” Daniel said, trying not to look at Nick.

“What happened?” Carey asked, looking at him closely.

“Nothing,” he answered. “He refused to talk.”

“He's always been a bastard,” Nick said.

“But still, he went to her wedding,” Carey said, shaking her head. “Maybe he was jealous of her relationship with Hugh.”

“You're wasting your time,” Nick said. “Like I told you, let the police handle this. That's what they're paid for.”

Daniel caught Carey's eye. They were thinking the same thing, he knew. They had to keep on, but first, they had to get rid of Nick Oliver before he got any more involved.

Eighteen

On a September day
not long before the shoot was finished, Daniel changed out of the over-starched nineteenth-century get-up and into his blue button-down and jeans. It always felt good to get back into his own clothes. Shed of character and dialogue, he felt more like himself, able to focus on his own problems. Most of the crew had dispersed for the lunch hour, although a couple of cameramen were setting up equipment for the early afternoon takes while the light was still good. Tamsyn had the day off, but Hugh was sitting in a chair in a dusty corner, eyes closed, listening to music. He hadn't seemed to notice everyone trickling off the set. Daniel walked up to him and waited until his friend's eyes opened.

“What are you listening to?” he asked.

Hugh pulled off one of the earbuds, looking up at him. “Nina Simone.”

“Which song?”

“
Just in Time
.”

“That's one of Tamsyn's favorites.”

Ordinarily, Daniel found Tamsyn's music preferences too eclectic—he hesitated to say juvenile—for his taste, but now and then, she played something decent. Hugh was looking at him cautiously, and music was the right way to open a conversation with him. Lately, Daniel had kept to safe topics. Everyone knew that Hugh and Tamsyn were seeing each other now, but neither of them had said anything about it to him, and he wasn't going to be the one to bring it up.

“Are you hungry?” Hugh asked, turning off the song.

“Pretty much always,” Daniel answered. “You know me.”

“I don't really feel like going out. What's left on the cart over there?”

They wandered over to see if anything had been left from the bounty that had been placed there hours ago. There were stale bagels and squelchy fruit, but actors learned to subsist on whatever was put out before them. They picked around at the edges, putting a few things on their plates before going back to sit down. Daniel pierced a large strawberry with his fork and ate it in a single bite.

“Are you as sick of Hardy as I am?” Hugh asked.

“Maybe more,” Daniel admitted. “But I think the film was a good idea, all told. I'm glad we did it.”

“Ah. I believe the phrase is, ‘I told you so.'”

Daniel smiled. “Rub it in.”

“What do you think you'll do next?”

“I'm looking at a couple of offers, but I haven't decided which, if either, to take. What about you?”

“You know what I'd really love? A break from everything. I'd like to spend some time sitting on a beach, figuring out how to get the milk out of a coconut.”

“Have you ever thought of writing a screenplay?” Daniel asked. “You could take whatever you're interested in and create a whole script around it. I've been reading about the life of Robert Louis Stevenson. He spent a few years in Hawaii and befriended King Kalakaua and his niece. I think that would make a great story. Just think of it: romance, sweltering Hawaiian nights, and tropical paradise. It's tempting.”

“You write it, and then cast me, and my dream of coconuts on the beach will be complete.”

“Maybe I will. We could use a little sand and sun after this.”

Hugh's mobile rang, and he pulled it from his pocket to peer at the screen. “It's Tamsyn. Do you mind if I take it?”

“Go ahead,” Daniel answered.

He stood to give Hugh some privacy and went back over to the food cart, stabbing a piece of melon with a little too much force. He could hear Hugh's low, rumbling voice murmuring behind him.

It had gotten away from him, the relationship with Tamsyn. He analyzed it sometimes, wondering precisely how she had become more interested in Hugh when it was obvious there was chemistry between them. He had envisioned a different type of woman for Hugh: industrious, elegant, and capable, the sort that wore a chignon and a Chanel suit with Jimmy Choos. Not Tamsyn, who looked as though she would be more at home on a low-rent production of
Sweeney Todd
with buckets of blood than doing a respectable Hardy film with a well-known producer. The thing that troubled him the most was the weekend they'd spent in Brighton. They'd fit together in a way he never had with anyone before. He was certain Tamsyn had felt the same way. He'd never misjudged any relationship with a girl before. About one thing he was certain: she would never be dishonest. She wouldn't lead him on only to go with a bigger prize.

He went back over to sit down next to Hugh, hoping he wouldn't have to listen to Hugh fawning over her.

Fortunately, Hugh was ringing off. “Until then,” he said.

Daniel didn't hear Tamsyn's response, but Hugh laughed. “No doubt,” he replied. “See you in a couple of hours.”

Daniel busied himself with spreading the cream cheese on a hardened bagel as if it were the most interesting thing he could possibly do.

“Sorry about that,” Hugh said.

“It's fine,” Daniel answered. “It was a good time to get a call, anyway.”

“No, I mean, I'm sorry if it bothers you about Tamsyn.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, obviously you two are friends, and now I'm seeing her. Is that a problem for you?”

“No,” Daniel said, a little too quickly. “Of course not.”

“I feel a bit guilty about it,” Hugh said.

“You shouldn't. People get attractions for all sorts of reasons, and if I like someone you're dating, so much the better. It would be worse if I hated her.”

“You could never hate Tamsyn. I've never seen you so taken with anyone before, ever.”

There was no good answer to that, so Daniel decided to drop the matter. He wouldn't bring up the Stevenson script idea again either. There was no reason to let Hugh have everything. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked, to change the subject.

“She wants to go to the pub. Of course, you'll have to join us. She isn't happy if you aren't there. Sometimes I wonder if she thinks we're a package deal.”

“Don't even go there.”

“Ouch. You're right. But you know what I mean.”

“What are you going to do when we shut down here?”

“You mean, what am I going to do about Tamsyn?”

The question hung in the air between them. It had been a matter of some concern to Daniel. In the past, Hugh had dated girls for a while and then had conciliatory breakups, lavishing the girl with a nice leaving present like a monstrously expensive handbag. Then he went back to his bachelor ways without a backward glance. Daniel had hoped this would be the case with Tamsyn as well. He had no idea what the two of them saw in each other, but he had little doubt it would run its course like every relationship either of them had ever had. In fact, he'd speculated to himself that after the inevitable end, he would wait a respectable amount of time and then resume his attentions toward her, if she was still interested.

“Well,” Hugh said at last. “I thought I would ask her to move in.”

Daniel was shocked. Hugh had never lived with anyone before. Not that there weren't plenty of nights of sleeping here or there, but in general, he guarded his privacy and had never allowed a girl to breach the gap.

“How does she feel about it?” Daniel asked, when he could finally speak.

“I haven't asked her yet.”

Hugh sounded unconcerned, and Daniel stole an appraising look at his best friend. Perhaps even more astonishing than Tamsyn's involvement with Hugh was Hugh's interest in Tamsyn. It was an utter mystery. Hugh was fastidious and particular. It was more than Daniel could imagine, having this gypsy-like creature move into Hugh's elegant house. She lived out of a knapsack, for God's sake. She begged rides from total strangers, like Daniel, to go to Dorset without any idea of what she would find when she got there. Her clothes were eccentric, her background was sketchy, and she had betrayed no interest whatever in being the girlfriend of a major English star. That is, until she'd started dating one. Daniel shook his head at the whole idea.

“You're serious?”

Hugh looked at him. “I've never been more serious about anything.”

Daniel put his fork on his plate and set it on a pile of scripts on the floor. He couldn't eat another bite. He wished there were a way he could excuse himself and end the conversation. He wished his mobile would ring. He wished the door would open and everyone would flood back in, ready for the next round of torture.

“If it makes you happy,” he finally said. “That's what's important.”

“Which pub do you want to go to tonight?” Hugh asked.

“Either one is fine,” he said, relieved at the change of topic. There was another pub in the village they hadn't gone to as often, but their usual place was noisy enough to keep him from thinking too much. Both spots had plenty of drinks to drown his troubles.

“She likes the Crowned Goose better, so I suppose it will be that. But I think it gets awfully hot in there.”

Daniel couldn't have cared less. He was ready for a drink. He was ready to feel the buzz and the blur of alcohol, and then he would watch Tamsyn entertain them and everyone else with her terrible impersonations and silly jokes. He was ready to sit back and drink her in and fall in love with her all over again.

That evening, it was raining, a fine mist that did not require an umbrella. If it hadn't been for Tamsyn, it would have a mild deterrent to going out. Daniel paced around his room, wishing for once that he had been smart enough to take a house and have actual space to live in. He didn't especially care to waste money, and posh digs in a remote Dorset village where he would spend little time qualified in his mind as a waste indeed, but now he felt like a caged bear at the zoo. He wondered if he should stay away, but trying to come up with alternatives to the pub was an unfruitful exercise.

He ran through a mental list of some of the people he liked among the crew to invite out, but it was so near the end of filming that he didn't want to disrupt plans. Two newly formed couples were already fighting or in tears about going back to their London lives and respective significant others, and most others were merely irritable at having been away from home so long and weren't especially good company. In fact, the only person that Daniel really wanted to see was Tamsyn. He wondered if he would feel like that forever.

If only he hadn't been so reluctant to let her know how he felt about her. He had been too cautious, though in retrospect he couldn't imagine handling it any other way. Eventually, he decided to join them. If he didn't, he would be thinking about them anyway.

Tamsyn, however, was not in the mood to amuse anyone that night. She was quieter than normal, though neither of them said anything to her about it. Hugh ate a plate of scallops and played darts with a couple of local men, and Daniel, who wasn't hungry, nursed a pint and was occupied answering questions from a curious barmaid. Tamsyn caught his eye once or twice, and he longed to pull away and talk to her, but just as the woman tired of asking him about London and acting and life in general, Hugh returned and coerced him into a game.

Tamsyn pushed her dinner around on her plate and then put down the fork. Before Daniel could think of a way to extricate himself, she tossed her napkin onto the table and walked over to them.

“I'm going back to Olivia's,” she said, stretching up to peck Hugh on the cheek. “Stay and enjoy yourselves.”

“I'll come with you,” Hugh offered.

“No, that's all right. I'll have a hot bath and forget about the long, ghastly day.”

“If you're sure.”

She looked up at Daniel, who was suddenly struck mute. He couldn't very well offer to go with her with Hugh standing right there. She smiled, as if enjoying his obvious discomfort.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

He watched her turn and retrieve her handbag from the chair where she'd left it, and then walk out of the pub. When he realized he'd been staring, he turned back toward the dart board, throwing one for all he was worth. Hugh whistled as the dart clipped one of his own, very near the bull's eye. He raised a brow and caught Daniel's eye.

“Some friend you are,” he said. “You're trying to steal the game right out from under me.”

That's the least of it, Daniel thought to himself. If he had his way, he would steal a great deal more than just the game.