Vanity (36 page)

‘You could come with us?' said Bex.

‘Maybe,' Ben drawled.

‘So, what do you do, Brad?' She hastily changed the subject – had she sounded too keen?

‘Oh, come on, Bex, that's such a lame question,' said Fliss. ‘What do you
do
? That is so, like, capitalist? Brad is a global citizen, just like us. Aren't you, Brad? We don't have to
do
anything! So much better to just
be
.' She giggled as she handed him his beer over the wooden bar.

‘Hey, man, you think I never
do
anything?' Fliss was really starting to wind him up, and Ben's imagination went into overdrive, putting him right back into character. ‘I made, like, a million dollars writing gaming software …'

‘Wow,' said Bex, gazing at him with undisguised admiration. He ignored her and, still in character, turned on Fliss.

‘Have you ever earned any dollars, or does your daddy just give it ya?' He felt a bit mean as Fliss's pretty blue eyes instantly brimmed with tears. Nobody had
ever
spoken to her like that, let alone taken Bex's side over hers.

‘Well, actually,' said Bex. ‘
I
worked in a pub all summer to save up enough money to come here. Fliss did get it all from her dad.' She looked over at her friend and giggled nastily. Now Ben didn't know which of them he disliked more.

‘Yeah, well, your dad paid for your flight, and all your rent while you were “working” in that scummy pub …' She made air quotes and both girls glared at one another. ‘It hardly paid for your trip, did it, Bexy?'

Ben thought of Natalia's bleak upbringing, and all he imagined she'd had to do to survive.

‘Hey, before I forget.' He directed this at Bex. ‘A friend of a friend is staying on this beach at the moment. I've never met her before, but I thought I'd look her up. Her name is …' He took a swig of his beer, and paused, as though he were trying to remember. ‘Natasha? No, that's not right. Jeez, man, too much weed …'

Bex giggled as he fumbled in his rucksack and found the scrap of paper on which he'd written the name in pencil.

‘Yeah, Natalia …'

‘
Natalia?
' squealed Fliss. ‘What, is she your mum's friend, or something?'

‘No, just someone from back home.' Ben struggled to keep his temper. ‘D'ya think she's gone to the party tonight?'

‘Oh, no, she never does. Acts like it's beneath her.'

Yes!

‘So, d'ya know where she might be now?'

‘Well, she was getting pissed with her
lover boy
all day. Not very dignified for someone her age.' Fliss's voice was spiteful; she'd quite fancied Juho, but after Natalia had turned up, he'd paid her no attention whatsoever.

‘Lover boy?' Now it really was difficult to keep his tone nonchalant.

‘Yeah, Juho. He's weird too. They do all this yoga stuff together. He's staying in that hut over there.'

And she pointed over at the second nearest hut to the bar, which had a yoga mat on its deck, and several wind chimes hanging from a branch, tinkling in the breeze, above it.

God, what a dick
, thought Ben.

‘Oh, look, talk of the devil, there he is!'

He was tall, lean and with good muscle definition, Ben noticed. He was trying to stride, but staggering slightly, in their direction, from the far end of the beach. He looked just as his hut had implied he might, all Zen-yoga-bollocks, with a shaved head, bare chest and Thai fisherman's thin cotton trousers dangling above his bare feet and ankles. As he got closer, Ben was glad to see that his rival wasn't anything like as good looking as he was.

What a cunt.

‘Hey,' he shouted. ‘Are you the dude who knows a chick called Natalia?'

‘Why do you want to know?' Juho replied angrily.

Ben finally lost his temper, jumping off the bar stool and running over to Juho in the sand. ‘Because I've travelled over eight thousand fucking miles to find her!' he exploded in his own voice, losing the stoner façade completely. He couldn't see any reason to carry on keeping up pretences now. ‘Just tell me where the fuck she is, you bloody hippy retard!'

Juho looked at him in silence for about half a minute, taking him in. He recognized the face now – Ben's first sitcom,
People Like Us
, had been quite a hit, even back in Helsinki.
Ben Jones
. Underneath the disguise, the man was disgustingly handsome.

‘Well, well, you came for her after all,' he said slowly. ‘I underestimated you.' His anger was fading now, leaving him deflated. ‘I left her right at the far end of the beach, behind those rocks. She will be glad to see you.'

‘Thank you,' said Ben, holding out his hand to shake Juho's.

‘You're a lucky man. She told me she loved me like a brother.'

‘Jesus. You poor bastard.' Ben looked Juho sincerely in the eye, shook his hand again, and started running down the beach, leaving Fliss and Bex gazing after him, bemusement written all over their pretty little faces.

Natalia was swimming out to sea, further and further, feeling calmer as she propelled her body through the smooth, still water, gazing up at the moon, feeling it drawing her towards it.

She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn't notice how far she'd swum from the shore, until the sea ceased to be still, and currents were raging madly around her body. She had swum beyond the smooth safety of the bay, and now found herself adrift in the deep, dark ocean.

Shit, I'd better start heading back, she thought. But as she turned and aimed for the shore, she found that she couldn't. However strong a swimmer she was, the ocean's currents were stronger, pulling her back, and worse, in the direction of the jagged rocks to her left.

I shall not panic. I escaped Kiev. I escaped my old life. I will not let myself be beaten by the sea.

And she continued to battle against the most dangerous element of them all.

As Ben arrived, panting, at the place Juho had told him about, he looked around in despair. There was no sign of Natalia. But where could she have gone? He'd have seen her if she'd walked back, and she couldn't go any further than the end of the beach. Unless …

He looked out to sea, and there, glinting in the moonlight, was a pale blonde head, tiny from this distance, but he would recognize that head anywhere. It was Natalia, and it looked as if she was in trouble.

Without a moment's hesitation, Ben tore off all his clothes as quickly as he could – the combat shorts, with all their pockets, could significantly hinder his progress, and he wasn't wearing anything underneath. Naked, he ran into the still, warm water, and started swimming, his powerful front crawl driving him in Natalia's direction. As he got closer, he was appalled to see how close to the rocks she was. Good God, what had she been thinking?

She was in serious danger now, he saw, her face contorted in fear as she desperately tried to swim against the powerful currents. He watched in horror as her head hit a glistening black boulder, and she started to sink, slowly, underwater. She was still a good ten feet away from him.

Taking an enormous breath, he swam down towards her, the salt water stinging his open eyes. Her blonde hair was floating upwards, streaked with blood from the gash on her head. Summoning every reserve of strength he had, his lungs bursting, he grabbed her under her arms and pulled her to the surface of the water, gasping for air as he hit it.

It was very hard work, swimming against the current with Natalia in his arms, but Ben had been working out a lot recently for his part in
Beyond the Sea
, and was now extremely strong.

At long last they reached the shore, and Ben carried Natalia out of the water, tears streaming down his already wet face, and tenderly laid her out on the sand. He smoothed her wet hair away from her face and checked out the cut on her head. It was no more than a surface wound, he saw, with relief, but that time under the water could have done some serious damage. She was certainly not conscious, and her lips were turning slightly blue.

‘Nat? Nat, my darling, please, please speak to me, please
don't die. Oh, my love, please live for me, please, my
darling. We can live wherever you want, we can do whatever you want; I don't give a fuck about anything except for you.'

Sobbing, and praying to every God he had ever heard of, he bent his head to hers and gave her the kiss of life.

Nothing.

‘I'll give up my job, if you want, and we can live in complete obscurity on an island somewhere, if that's what you want. Just please live, my darling. Oh, God, please let her live, please just let her live …'

Despairing, he tried the kiss of life again.

Nothing.

And then, just as Ben thought he might have to take his own life if she didn't wake up, Natalia started coughing and spluttering, until, wonderfully, she leant over and vomited a huge deluge of water onto the sand.

Ben sat back on his heels and, weeping with relief, looked up at the star-studded sky.

‘Thank you, God, or Ganesh, or Allah, or whoever the fuck you are! Whatever the fuck you are, thank you, thank you, thank you …'

‘Ben? Is that really you?' Natalia's voice was hoarse, but she was smiling weakly up at him from the silvery sand. ‘Have I died and gone to heaven?'

Ben gave a hiccup of laughter through his tears and bent over to kiss her pale forehead, too choked to speak for a moment or two.

Natalia's voice rose.

‘Ben? Are you
naked
? My God, I really must have died and gone to heaven.'

She sat up slowly, and, laughing and crying, they hugged and kissed and hugged and kissed, on and on and on, neither of them quite believing that the other was alive, and real.

Eventually, reluctantly, Natalia pulled away. She had so many questions rattling around her drunk, exhausted, very nearly drowned mind.

‘How did you find me?'

He put a gentle finger to her lips. ‘Shhh, shhh, I'll tell you everything later, once you've had a hot shower and something to eat, and I've got some bloody clothes on.'

Natalia laughed and coughed up some more water. ‘No need to put your clothes on for me, sweetie.'

‘Maybe not, but I'm fucking freezing.'

Natalia laughed again, then started to shiver violently herself, remembering how terrified she had felt in the sea, how certain she had been that she was going to die. Ben put his arms tightly around her, stroking her hair with one strong hand. ‘Shhh, shhh, shhh, it's OK, Nat, it's OK, you're safe now.'

‘Thank you.' The words emerged almost as a whisper.

‘There is nothing to thank me for,' said Ben simply. ‘If you had died, my life wouldn't have been worth living. In the meantime, though, please promise me one thing?'

‘Anything.' Natalia pulled back so she could look him straight in the eye.

‘Promise me that you'll never run away from me again.'

‘Oh, that is easiest promise I have ever made. I promise you, Mr Movie Star. I promise.'

And she started to kiss him again.

‘We're not in Kansas any more, Toto,' said Poppy, as Lars drove the hired Cadillac across the state line into Texas.

‘Thank fuck for that,' said Bella, and Poppy and Lars both laughed. They had left their motel in one of Kansas City's grottier suburbs at around nine o'clock that morning and had been driving for just over nine hours, only stopping for a fairly disgusting lunch of fatty sausages and other cold meats, unadorned by any form of vegetable matter. The miserable grey sky had spat on them all day, and the landscape had been unremittingly dull: miles and miles (and miles) of flat, flat terrain. At one stage they had driven for three hours without seeing a single tree.

‘Bloody hell, Lars, you were right about the Midwest,' Bella had said. ‘Why would anybody in their right mind choose to drive this way, when you've got the lakes and Rockies in the north, and New Orleans and all that romantic Charleston and Mississippi stuff in the south?' Her grasp of US geography was fairly hazy, but she'd been looking things up on her iPhone to kill the unutterable tedium that was driving through Kansas.

‘You mean all that romantic Charleston and Mississippi lynching stuff?' said Poppy. ‘It looks to me as if old Jack K was desperate to get back to NY and pretty much drew a straight line across the States …'

The day they'd left New York, they had stopped for lunch at a diner on the outskirts of Washington, DC. Over cheeseburgers and fries, Lars had grilled Poppy comprehensively about Damian's route.

‘You say Kerouac, huh?'

‘Yup. As I said, he has deeply adolescent arrested development.'

‘So let's see …' He looked at the list that Poppy had written out in her curly turquoise handwriting. ‘New York City, Washington, DC, Pittsburgh, Columbus, Indianapolis, St Louis, Kansas City, Dalhart, Albuquerque, Prescott, Los Angeles …' He looked up at Poppy.

‘Poppy, you are aware that this is the way Kerouac came
back
from LA?'

‘What?' Bella looked from Lars to Poppy, not understanding. ‘What's going on, Pops?'

‘Yeah
,
yeah, I know. The route he took
to
LA involved Chicago, Des Moines, Denver, Salt Lake City etc., but I just
know
that Damian was much more interested in the whole Midwest thing. I
just know
that that's the way he's gone …'

‘Oh, come on, Pops, this could be a complete wild-goose chase.' Bella was starting to get angry now. ‘You told me you
knew.
It sounds to me like it could be one of two routes (even if he is doing the Kerouac thing, which is sounding increasingly tenuous, I must say), and it's more likely to be the one we're not taking. For fuck's sake …'