The Room Beyond (7 page)

‘Fancy a smoke?’ he said, offering me a crumpled pack of cigarettes
whilst lighting one for himself.

‘Oh my God! How the hell did you get up here?’

‘Ah, now that would be telling.’

I pushed past him and peered over the balcony at the spine-crunching
drop to the garden. Even the flat roof of next door’s extension seemed
dangerously out of reach, although not impossible.

‘How did you do it?’

‘Come on, relax. I practically grew up in this house,’ he said and
then he rolled his eyes mysteriously. ‘I know its ways.’

He sat down on the balcony step, exhaled an impressive array of
smoke rings into the night sky and then beamed at me in a way that made me want
to giggle like a schoolgirl. I perched next to him and we smoked in silence, my
first cigarette in ages. I was supposed to have given up the habit.

It seemed surreal sitting up there high above the rooftops with him,
as if we’d been picked up and placed into an alcove in the night sky. Seb’s
body was tantalisingly close and a pleasant shiver ran through me.

‘Who are you, really?’ I asked.

‘Well that’s a very good question. Some say that an itinerant group
of cockle gatherers found me on a beach one day...’

‘No, seriously, although I see that seriousness might not count as
one of your major pastimes.’ He flashed me a delicious smile. ‘You’re not one
of the family, I know. I thought you were Eva’s boyfriend, but you don’t seem
to be that either... are you? I mean I... I just don’t really understand where
you fit in.’

The muscles around his jawbone tensed up and shifted about.

‘I went to school with Eva’s brother Raphael,’ he said slowly. ‘I
got to know the family and they sort of accepted me as one of their own.’

‘Where do you live?’

‘Just... somewhere.’

‘Right.’

His face softened apologetically. ‘Sorry, you just don’t want to see
where I live. It’s not very nice, that’s all. I only use it for sleeping and a
lot of the time I stay over here anyway.’

‘I’ve lived in a few places like that. Pretty lonely eh?’

‘Yes, pretty lonely.’ He tossed the stub of his cigarette over the
balcony and turned to face me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. ‘How
did you enjoy your meal with the family?’

‘Um... very pleasant: charming, interesting... eclectic... German.’
He frothed up with laughter. ‘Can you all really speak German?’

‘Yes of course. And French. Doesn’t everyone?’ he asked, laughing
even more.

‘OK then.’

My legs had gone slightly numb and I shifted sideways, pressing my
spine flat against the door frame. He gazed back at me, his eyes suddenly more
sober and almost purple in the half-light.

‘You look very beautiful like that,’ he said.

‘Like what?’

‘Sitting stretched up like that in the shadows. You look mythical,
like an elf or something.’

‘My father used to call me his little elf. It’s because I was all
scrawny like a boy, with wispy hair and pointy features.’

‘But did he tell you that you were beautiful as well?’

‘Oh God no!’

‘I thought so.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you have absolutely no idea how to take a compliment.’

His fingers knitted themselves together with mine; they felt so long
and elegant.

Let me stay with you tonight.

It was just like before, over dinner. I heard his voice and yet he
hadn’t said a thing.

Not yet.

He seemed to nod his head as if he’d actually heard my reply, but
his hand remained firmly in mine.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Go on,’ he replied.

‘What is the situation between you and Eva?’

Maybe I was imagining it but his cool fingers seemed to tense up a
little in my hand.

‘There is no situation, why ask?’

‘It’s nothing really. I shouldn’t have asked. Sorry. It’s just that
this morning, when Beth brought me into the drawing room... I think that Eva
was watching you sleep.’

‘Oh don’t worry about her. She’s a great thinker, that’s all, she feels
things very deeply. They would have called her poetic a hundred years ago, or
something like that I suppose.’

‘It was a bit of an icy reception that she gave me.’

Seb made as if to speak but then hesitated; he seemed to be choosing
his words carefully.

‘She does things her own way, she’s unconventional,’ he shrugged.

‘I can see that. To be honest I was a bit surprised when I found out
that Beth’s mother was so young. Who is Beth’s father?’

My throat went dry as soon as I said it, as if bereft of the words
that should have stayed firmly tucked inside. Seb took his hand from mine to
light another cigarette.

‘No one knows, she’s always refused to let on,’ he answered in a
deep, hushed voice. ‘But everyone seems to have a theory about it. What do you
think?’

It sounded like a test. And was that the hint of something bitter in
his voice? Whatever it was it didn’t suit him.

‘I don’t have a clue. I knew nothing about the Hartreves until this
job came up.’

‘What, you haven’t even read about them, they’re in the press
sometimes?’

I shook my head.

He looked thoughtful. ‘Well, I supposed it’s been awhile and it’s
only really Eva doing the whole society bit now.’

‘In that case I better start buying the right magazines!’

His shoulders softened a bit and the corners of his mouth turned up.

‘So tell me about your family; where do your parents live?’ he
asked.

‘Hmm, do you really want to know?’

‘Yeah, why not?’

‘Let’s talk about it some other time.’

‘No,’ he said, as if suddenly spurred on by my reluctance. ‘I want
to know.’

‘OK. My parents both died when I was young.’

‘How?’

‘They were in an accident... their bus veered into a shop window. I
was brought up by my aunt instead.’

He didn’t respond and the moment died. This time I reached for his
hand. ‘Look, let’s just change the subject. We’re bound to fall on a good one
if we try hard enough.’

Seb squeezed my hand back gratefully and then a spark of light came
back into his eyes.

‘Do you want to come to the party this weekend? Raphael’s coming
home for a bit after a stint abroad and we thought we’d celebrate.’

‘I wouldn’t want to intrude. Where is it?’

‘Here in the house. And no you wouldn’t be intruding, you’d be my guest.’

‘Alright then.’

‘Hey, I better leave you to it.’ He pulled me up from the step with
both hands and we faced each other. ‘Thank you for letting me into your room
tonight.’

‘I didn’t have much choice!’

He linked his arms around my body and gathered me close to him. In a
second my cheek was pressed against his chest and my eyes tightly shut.

The last person who’d held me like that had been my father. I’d
forgotten all about it until that point but the memory suddenly came back so
powerfully that I could even smell the musty scent of his jumper as it had
scratched slightly at my face.

I’d been playing in the garden and had fallen badly with a loud
scream. Dad had come running out of the house, his face etched with concern and
before I knew it I was in his arms, the safest place on earth.

I felt Seb’s face smile above me.

‘What is it?’ I murmured.

‘We’re breathing at the same time, like soldiers falling into step.’

He released me and a deep sigh unleashed itself from my chest. I
felt the brush of his lips against my mouth and before I even realized it, he’d
gone.

For a moment I could barely tell where I was. Around me everything
seemed askew, as if I’d walked into a macabre crooked house in a fairground
somewhere.

The curtains against my balcony door had been closed. I walked over
to the window and peered between them, half expecting, hoping, to see Seb
standing there again. But only the dark silhouettes of chimney pots and
branches remained.

Before I fell into bed I snatched up a pencil and within minutes a near
perfect likeness of Seb’s face was laughing up at me from my sketchbook. His
eyes bubbled with good humour, just like they had done over dinner. Next time I
would try to catch their sober side, the serious part of him. Because it was
there, whether he liked it or not.

I spent the night lost in a heavy dreamless sleep and, when my alarm
clock proceeded to yell at me the next morning, the journey to switching it off
was no worse than clawing my way out of a deep blackened pit. I rolled out of
bed and threw on some clothes. Beth wasn’t in her room, so I carried on
downstairs.

‘Hello,’ she said from behind a large bowl of cornflakes. She was
sitting at the kitchen table, legs tucked up under her on her chair. Gladys was
making tea.

‘Hello. How are you this morning?’ I replied.

‘Fine. Shall we go to the museum today?’

‘OK.’

I obeyed Gladys’s nod to sit down.

‘I’ll put some toast on,’ she said.

‘Thank you, that’s very kind, but look I’ll make it.’

‘No that’s alright.’

Her lips were pursed as if to say, ‘This is my kitchen. Leave it
well alone please.’

Beth helped herself to more cornflakes, tongue poking out in
concentration at the side. She was wearing a pale yellow gingham dress with a
matching ribbon in her hair.

‘Raphael’s coming home soon.’

‘Yes I know.’

She munched on and eyed me over her spoon. ‘He’s an artist like you
know. Raphael sees magic in everything. He loves beauty, that’s why he’s an
artist. He says he could never work in an office like Grandpa.’

‘Here’s your toast, would you like tea with that?’ Gladys asked.

‘Yes please, thank you so much.’

I half got up from my chair to help but a sharp look from Gladys
forced me right back down again.

‘Would you like milk or lemon with your tea?’

‘Milk please. But I can...’

‘Brown sugar, white sugar or sweetener?’

‘Nothing, thanks. Um, would it be alright if I ate in the kitchen
with you tonight? I don’t really want to get in the way of the family too
much.’

She nodded her head as if the question came as no surprise to her.

‘I’ve got a nice bit of salmon for Mr Hartreve tonight; should be
enough for us too.’

Before leaving for the museum I raced upstairs to grab my bag from
my room. It was a workout in itself running to the top of the house and I was
panting breathlessly by the time I pushed my door open. Eva was standing in
there, holding my sketchbook in her bony hands. I spluttered in surprise.

‘Are you... alright?’ she asked, scanning me up and down.

‘Yes,’ I panted. ‘You just shocked me a bit.’

‘I’m sorry. I imagine I should have knocked, although you weren’t
here anyway.’

She held the sketchbook towards me and then all at once her face
seemed to melt into an expression I wouldn’t have thought possible. For the
first time I saw real gentle beauty in her features.

‘Beth told me about your drawing. These pictures of Seb are very skillful.
Extraordinary. You have a good eye. I never thought...’ she trailed off and her
eyes flitted across me again, differently this time, like a frightened little
deer.

I took the sketchbook from her. ‘Thank you, that’s very kind. Would
you like me to draw something for you? I love it when people enjoy my work,
it’s the main reason I do it I think.’

As soon as the sketchbook had left her hands she seemed to stiffen,
hold back again. The angular bones of her face regrouped.

‘No that’s fine. I have to go now,’ she swept past me but paused to
take a final glance around her. ‘Funny little room, this. Isn’t it?’

Beth seemed to be in her element at the Victoria and Albert Museum,
springing from one exhibit to the next like a small excited lamb. She led me
around the four-poster beds and grand castle furniture first, saving her
cherished costume exhibits for the grand finale.

‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ she whispered, gazing with loving eyes at a
Victorian wedding gown.

‘Would you like to wear something like that one day?’

‘Oh yes!’

We ate sandwiches in the museum’s sunny courtyard, peeling our shoes
off afterwards to have a quick paddle in the ornamental pond. It was a gorgeous
day and this was a perfect oasis from the city beyond. We skidded about in the
water, pink and giggling with the sunshine. But then quite suddenly, just as
she was scooping a cup of the water up into her hands, Beth staggered, as if
she were about to pass out. I caught her elbow, her face was white as a sheet.