The Writer (16 page)

“Why would I?” she asked
defensively, not able to retain eye contact.

“I think you do,” he smiled,
still expecting a thanks. “I brought them back safe, doesn’t that
count for anything?”

“I just don’t trust you,
sorry.”

“What is there not to
trust?”

“Exactly. What is it about
you I don’t like?”

Craigfield started laughing.
“I’m not understanding you. Just ask, anything you want to know
about me, I’ll tell you. Whatever you were trying to find out, just
ask.”

“No thanks.”

“You know,” he said as he
realised she wasn’t going to talk to him, “I didn’t have to bring
them back.”

“Sure you did. You want us
all to like you, don’t you?”

Craigfield glanced around to
the people who were congratulating Susan and the Sherriff. “I think
they all do. All except for one.”

After a day of trying to
recover from the stress, while listening to the twins repeatedly
tell everyone what happened, and how Craigfield had helped them,
both Susan and Sophie felt drained. Craigfield himself was nowhere
to be seen. Sophie hoped that his absence was a sign that he was
actually planning to leave town for good. The twins were left
watching television, with Rebecca under strict orders to watch them
and not let them out of her sight. Susan needed a break and she sat
in her kitchen with a small glass of brandy, which she left
untouched. Sophie sat with her, wondering if her dream of spending
time writing was nothing more than a dream, since nothing had been
written for the last two days. She felt like more had happened in
the town during this visit than had happened the entire time she
grew up there.

“You need to think of
finding a good man and settling down,” Susan said to her sombrely
after a few minutes of silence. It was without warning that she was
going to change the subject so dramatically. Her voice was deep, a
sign that she was serious and was putting thought into her
words

“You didn’t just say that to
me?” Sophie responded, and began to feel humiliated.

“This world is too harsh to
go it alone. Men like Craigfield are rare. Men like Handisides are
all too common. Men such as the one who killed Longbottom are
common. Men like Longbottom are common too; they’re the victims of
the other men. Find yourself a Craigfield, not a Handisides or a
Longbottom.”

Sophie didn’t want to hear
any more and she walked out of the kitchen without a word. She
began to think that it would be a good idea to pack her bags and go
home. On the dark stairs up to her room she thought she saw a
figure sitting there. When she saw it was Craigfield it was too
late to avoid him. She chose to walk around him like he was just
some annoyance she didn’t need to bother with, and hopefully he
wouldn’t ruin the moment by speaking.

“I know it was you who sent
them,” he said with a low voice.

“I don’t know what you’re
talking about,” she said dismissively as she climbed up the stairs
behind him. The stairs creaked under their combined
weight.

“The twins, they talk a lot,
don’t they? Say some funny things.”

That made her stop and look
back. He remained facing the other way like he was expecting her to
stop.

“What’s this to do with me?”
she asked.

“They told me everything,”
he said without looking her way. “Just feed them whatever they want
and they will talk until they can talk no more. Tell them you love
their favourite TV show, that’s all it takes and you’ve got a
trusted friend. And I’ve never heard of
Animal Matters
. They
don’t know that, but it didn’t matter.”

“Know how to take advantage
of children, do you? That’s interesting.”

“You think I’m a bad guy, do
you? You think I’m the murderer? That’s why you had them follow me,
right? If I wasn’t so offended I’d laugh it off. Just tell me why.
That’s all I want to know. Did I do something wrong? Did I say
something wrong? Do you not like the way I dress? The way I walk?
What is it? What is it that makes you do such a thing? You
endangered members of your own family. What’s with
that?”

“Guess what, Craigfield:
You’re not the only man in the world. Now, leave me alone,” she
said as she resumed climbing the stairs.

“Your grandmother likes me,”
he called.

“Then marry her. Oh, you
can’t, since you’re already married.”

“I’m not
married.”

“Grandmother thinks
otherwise.”

“Truth is, I told her that
to get her to back off. Not that it worked.”

“Now you’re really going too
far, if you expect me to believe that.”

“Why would I be married? You
know my opinion of marriage.”

“I know your opinion and I
don’t care for it. You’re the type who likes to go through
girlfriends, aren’t you. Have you ever had a long term
relationship?”

“That would be
telling.”

“No, on second thought,
don’t tell me; I don’t want to know.”

“You know the boys told me
about your book.”

Again she stopped and this
time she was angry. “They told you what? For your information, they
know nothing about my writing.”

“Because they wouldn’t sneak
into your room and read it? They wouldn’t do that, right? Not those
two. It’s not like they ever play at being spies, sneak into every
part of this town, especially where they’re not allowed. Such
well-behaved young men, are they?”

Sophie realised that they
could have done exactly that. They could have read everything she
wrote about him and reported it all back to him. Then she thought
about the page she found in his room, and it was probably the two
boys who put it there. She felt so embarrassed that she had nothing
to say.

Now he stood up and turned
to her.

“Interesting character
you’ve made me into,” he said with a hint of distaste. “A wife
stealer, am I? Is that what you think of me? I said I didn’t think
much of marriage, and you go and do that to me? You’re trying to
destroy my reputation? And you were doing this book without telling
me? For that matter, I don’t remember asking your permission to use
my name.”

“I didn’t realise your name
came with a copyright,” she replied tersely as she walked up the
remaining stairs and went into her room, making a show of shutting
and locking her door.

“Nice to know you think I’m
handsome,” he called.

“Dramatic license!” she
called back.

Craigfield descended the
stairs laughing to himself.

Max slept on the couch for
the first night of Jill’s return. There didn’t need to be any words
between them to decide that. Since Jill had returned she had seldom
come out of the bedroom, and when she did she hardly looked at him.
The next morning Max found it hard to get off the couch, with his
neck and upper back aching. He had slept okay, but his body
protested being in the same hunched position for so long. His ankle
had started hurting a lot recently anyway, and he again
accidentally put too much pressure on it when he got to his feet
off the couch.

Then he almost walked into
her. She had been standing near the couch unable to stop rubbing at
her swollen eyes while she watched him sleep. Her face was like
that of a little girl who had been rebuked, all sad and innocent,
wanting someone to tell her everything will be all
right.

“He kicked me out,” she said
as she started to sob. She hugged him and he felt her body
convulsing as she cried.

He didn’t hug her
back.

“He told me he never loved
me,” she continued as she gripped him tight, making his back hurt.
“He said it was all for fun and that’s all. I have nowhere to go,
nowhere I want to go, but here, with you. Is it all right I stay?
Do you want me to stay, Max? Do you? Tell me it is, Max,
please.”

She realised he was not
hugging her and she stepped away more hurt than before.

“I never said you couldn’t
stay,” he said, not hiding the coldness in his voice.

“Are you mad at
me?”

“Of course I’m mad. Madder
at Craigfield.”

“Please, don’t say his name.
Not anymore. I never want to hear that stupid name
again.”

“That won’t be a
problem.”

“He’s not still in your
story, is he? You did change it, didn’t you?”

“He’s not in the story. Not
really. Just a minor character, in the long run. One of those types
of characters you don’t need to explain too much. His name is the
best thing about him. Can’t let something like that get
away.”

“No, just get rid of the
name, would you? I never want to hear it again. Do it for me,
please. Take it out of your book. Can you?”

“I don’t know,” he hedged.
“I kind of like it.”

“You won’t do that for me?
Take his name out and use someone else’s? That’s easy, isn’t it?
Make up another funny name; you’re good at that. You have to take
it out. I can’t bear the thought of seeing it again.”

“Why would I do
that?”

Jill looked at him like she
thought he was trying to hurt her more.

“If it makes any
difference,” he explained, not letting her affect his controlled
and contemplative mood, “he’s no good guy. Just like in our own
story. No, I won’t be changing his name. I think it’s a good
reminder to what just happened between us. So it stays
there.”

“What about my
feelings?”

“What about them? You’re
here because you can’t be there. We both know that’s the reason you
came back, because he didn’t want you. That’s all right; I can’t
blame you for any of it, I suppose. I’m not the best man to get
along with; I know that. It also so happens, you’re no angel to
live with either. But, the good news is, you won’t have to put up
with me here for the next couple of days.”

“Why, where are you
going?”

“I have a trip planned. And
no, you’re not invited. And no, you’re not going even if you want
to.”

“You don’t have to be like
this.”

“I did a lot of thinking
while you were gone, since I had the time and the motive to wonder
about my life, and yours. I have made some dumb decisions, made
some good ones; but mostly dumb ones. This is one of the good
ones.”

“You’ve changed,” she said
quietly.

“Was I going to do anything
else? Did you come back expecting to find the old Max? Was I going
to act like nothing’s happened? How could I possibly remain the
same?”

“Old or new, I don’t care. I
just want you, Max.”

She thought she saw him give
a small nod, but she wasn’t sure.

“Do you still want me?” she
asked hesitantly.

“Apparently more than
Craigfield,” he said as he walked to the bathroom and closed the
door.

She was happy with his
answer until she realised that it wasn’t one.

Sophie looked at the stack
of pages and worried about how small it was. What worried her more
was the thought that she had added Craigfield into it. Seeming like
a great idea at the time, an unusual guy with an odd name, the
perfect addition to a story that had started well but then kind of
stalled when the plot became convoluted and began to turn in on
itself. Her only option was to go through each page and cross out
his name and replace it with something like ‘Rob”, or “Steve”, or
something else dull enough to not remind her of him. But that
didn’t solve the problem of his personality still being there. The
only solace she had was that she made him the bad guy, but that,
regrettably, made him the character most important to the plot. She
knew that she was just going to have to start again and remove any
trace of him. It was a big risk, since she didn’t have much of a
story without him.

Rebecca knocked on her door
and called out that she was needed downstairs. When Sophie opened
the door her niece had already gone. Sensing something important,
she rushed down to the main living room. Susan was there waiting,
looking at her expectedly. Rebecca was standing in the far doorway
looking guilty. Sophie walked further into the room not knowing
what was going on, but then she realised what it was with an abrupt
feeling of betrayal.

“I’m leaving now,”
Craigfield said from behind her with a voice that was trying to
sound casual. He was standing with one foot on his fashionable
suitcase, with wheels and an extended handle. He was leaning on it
with an arm propped on his knee, and he had a slight smile. Sophie
nearly laughed at the sight, since it reminded her of an
advertisement for aftershave, or cigarettes, or ratfink
men.

“Enjoy your journey,” Sophie
said coldly.

Rebecca saw all she wanted
and as she left she gave an audible sigh.

“Your family thinks I should
stay,” Craigfield said with a more natural voice. He took his foot
of his bag and started to idly kick at it, stalling for time. He
looked to Susan for support but there wasn’t any coming from
her.