Майкл Ридпат - Fatal Error

The nearest we got to touching on the subject was when Mel put down her rum and Coke and said: ‘Tomorrow.’

‘What about tomorrow?’ said Ingrid.

‘Sod tomorrow,’ said Guy.

‘Tomorrow I’m going to take the train home.’

‘Won’t work,’ said Guy. ‘We’re on an island.’

‘Good point. I’ll take a ferry and then a train.’

Guy looked at her for a moment, as though considering argument. There was no point. ‘OK,’ he said.

‘I’ll go with you,’ said Ingrid.

‘Davo?’ After all the bravado, Guy suddenly looked small, deflated. He needed my support.

‘We’ll make sure the girls get away OK and then I’ll come with you,’ I said. ‘But I think we should fly straight back to Elstree. Provided the weather’s OK.’

‘That makes sense,’ said Guy, relieved. He stood up and reached for our glasses. ‘My round.’

We drank on into the evening, nourishing ourselves on crisps and peanuts. Ingrid’s eyes began to close. ‘I’m sleepy,’ she said, with a small smile on her face, and slipped over against Guy’s shoulder. He moved her upright. She slipped over again. He lifted her up. She waited a few seconds and then fell back. This time he let her head rest there.

It was innocent drunken fun, but there was something about it that sparked a surge of irritation in me. The purpose of this trip had been for me to get closer to Ingrid. How was I supposed to do that when she was slumped against Guy? In fact, how was I supposed to do that when she was so drunk? A little tipsy was fine, but I didn’t want the start of a relationship to be a drunken bonk that she wouldn’t remember and couldn’t prevent.

I felt Mel tense next to me. ‘Guy?’ she said.

‘Yes?’

‘Where were you on Tuesday?’

‘Tuesday? I don’t know. Why?’

‘Because you said you’d come round to my place on Tuesday.’

‘Did I? I don’t remember that.’ Guy was the picture of innocence. Hammy, unconvincing innocence. You would never have known he was an actor.

‘So where were you?’

‘I was with Davo. Wasn’t I, Davo?’

I remembered Tuesday. We had gone to a bar in Chelsea. Guy had picked up an American redhead. I had left early. Guy knew he could rely on me to cover for him in these situations.

But not this time.

‘Only at the beginning of the evening. I left at half past eight.’

Guy looked at me askance. ‘That’s not right. That can’t be right.’

‘I got home for the nine o’clock news. I can remember it.’

Mel was watching this. She wasn’t dumb. She could see that there was a little wedge between me and Guy. She hammered at it.

‘So what did you do when David left you?’

Guy shrugged. ‘Went home, I suppose. Watched the nine o’clock news myself.’

Tears sprang into Mel’s eyes. ‘You were with a girl, weren’t you?’

‘Of course not,’ said Guy. ‘I wasn’t with a girl, Mel.’ He spoke slowly and steadily and looked her straight in the eye. I watched him. He was convincing. Totally convincing. I found myself wondering whether I had really seen him with the redhead that night. Maybe he was an actor after all.

Mel hesitated, her certainty shaken for a moment. Then she renewed her attack. ‘I called you. You weren’t in. You were with a girl.’ She turned to me. ‘Wasn’t he, David?’

I shrugged.

Guy shot me a look of the ‘Cheers, mate’ variety. But he wasn’t too worried. He knew Mel knew. She must have known for a while. But she still stayed with him. He was toying with her.

‘And what about the Friday before?’

‘Let me see...’ said Guy.

‘Was it the same girl?’

It had been a different girl. It was always a different girl. But I couldn’t tell Mel that.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Guy.

‘Do you think I’m stupid? Do you? Do you!’

Mel stared at Guy. Ingrid was upright now, watching her.

Guy was just a little too drunk. The corner of his mouth twitched up. Just a smidgeon. Just enough to send Mel over the edge.

She slammed her glass down on the table. ‘You sit there laughing at me! Treat me like some stupid tart who’ll keep a bed warm for you when you can’t find anything better. Do you ever wonder how I feel? Do you know what it’s like to sit at home, waiting for you to come, never knowing whether you will or whether you’ll have picked up some schoolgirl at the local Burger King?’

‘Schoolgirl?’ said Guy, as though insulted that he had been accused of underage sex.

‘You’re just as bad as your father!’ said Mel. ‘Worse!’

‘I guess you’d know,’ said Guy, quietly. Dangerously.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You’d know how I compared to my father.’

‘How can you say that?’

‘How can I say that?’ Guy said, his anger finally rising. ‘You say you don’t like the way I treat you. I didn’t seduce your mother. You want respect, but how do you expect me to respect you after what you did with my father?’

‘That’s unfair,’ Mel said. ‘I’ve told you how much I regretted that.’

Guy shrugged and reached for his glass.

‘And anyway, what about what you did in France? Your little secret deals? Your cover-ups.’

Guy looked at her sharply, his glass an inch from his lips.

‘Don’t act all innocent, Guy. I know.’

Guy didn’t look at all innocent. He looked shaken. And worried. He put his glass down without taking a drink.

‘Like I said. You’re worse than your father.’ There was a note of cruel triumph in Mel’s voice. She knew she had hit home.

‘Mel,’ said Ingrid, reaching a hand unsteadily towards her.

‘You keep out of this. I saw you falling all over him!’

‘We were only mucking around,’ said Ingrid.

‘You’ve had your eyes on him the whole time, you slut!’ Mel sneered.

Ingrid withdrew her hand. She looked genuinely hurt.

‘That wasn’t fair,’ I said to Mel.

‘I don’t give a shit.’ She stood up. ‘I’m getting my stuff and I’m going to stay somewhere else tonight. And I’ll make my own way back to London tomorrow.’

She stormed out of the bar and up the stairs to her room.

We exchanged glances, stunned. Ingrid swayed unsteadily and looked as if she was going to cry. Guy grinned weakly. I got up to follow Mel.

Guy and Mel were sharing a room. I found the door open and Mel zipping up her bag.

‘Where are you going to go?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know. Anywhere.’

‘But we’re in the middle of nowhere!’

‘I don’t care. I’ll walk all night if I have to. I just have to get away from those two.’

‘You’re imagining things,’ I said. ‘There’s nothing between Guy and Ingrid.’

‘You show me a woman that isn’t after Guy and I’ll show you a lesbian,’ muttered Mel.

‘That’s not true.’

She stood upright, a tear trickling unrestrained down her cheek. ‘I was right about him though, wasn’t I? About last Friday?’

Her eyes were burning, looking straight into mine. I couldn’t lie to her. I nodded.

‘And other times?’

I shrugged. There was no need to nod.

She grabbed her bag and pushed past me down the stairs. She was marching past the front desk when I called after her. ‘Hang on a minute, Mel.’

She paused.

‘They’ll need your key.’

She handed it to me. I asked the manager behind the desk whether there was a bed and breakfast nearby that Mel could go to. I told him she had had an argument with her boyfriend and her room at the hotel would still be paid for. He understood, reached for his telephone, and had a brief conversation with a Mrs Campbell. He directed me to a place half a mile down the road.