Simon Beckett - Where There's Smoke

Kate felt light-headed, from relief as much as the wine she’d vowed not to drink. The initial awkwardness had slipped away unnoticed during the meal. Alex had unwound and seemed to hit it off with Lucy and Jack, who had either shelved or resolved whatever had been bothering them. Lucy had begun to flirt mildly with him, a sure sign of approval, and he and Jack had found common ground in books.

Lucy caught her eye as Jack began to tell Alex about his business. “Give me a hand with the dishes?”

Suddenly nervous, Kate helped her collect the dirty plates and followed her into the kitchen. Lucy closed the door behind them and turned to face her. “Tell me you’re not still planning to go through with it.”

Kate had known Lucy was about to give her verdict, but this wasn’t what she expected. “Why? Don’t you like him?”

“Of course I like him! He’s a bit shyer than I’d have expected, but apart from that I think he’s lovely.”

“What’s wrong, then?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Except that you’ve been lucky enough to meet a really nice bloke, never mind how, and if you’re still even considering going ahead with that artificial rubbish, then you want your head looking at!”

Kate felt the tension drain out of her. “I thought you were going to say you didn’t approve of him.”

“The only thing I don’t approve of is if you still plan to go ahead with this stupid idea of yours. You’ve really fallen on your feet. Again. I just hope you make the most of it.”

“Lucy, I’m looking for a donor. That’s all.”

“Oh, yes?”

Lucy arched her eyebrows. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you don’t fancy him, either?”

“I don’t. I’m glad he’s turned out to be a nice bloke and I don’t deny I like him, but it doesn’t go any further than that.”

Lucy looked pointedly at Kate’s dress. “And I suppose that outfit’s just coincidence, then?”

Kate blushed. “I decided to buy myself something new, that’s all.”

“Which just happens to show off your legs and boobs. Come on, I’m not stupid. You didn’t put that on for my benefit. Or Jack’s.”

Something in her tone alerted Kate. Remembering the tension between Lucy and Jack when she’d first arrived, she asked, “Is everything okay? Between you and Jack, I mean. I’m not prying,” she added, hurriedly, seeing Lucy’s suddenly closed expression, “but you seemed a bit... edgy with each other earlier.”

Kate thought she wasn’t going to answer, but then Lucy turned away.

“We had a bit of an argument, that’s all.”

She paused. “About you, actually.”

“Me?”

Two patches of colour had entered Lucy’s cheeks. She looked at Kate with something like defiance. “Jack seems to think I’m being too hard on you. He says I should be more supportive. I told him I was only saying what I thought was for your own good, and that I wished he’d be half as bloody supportive towards me.”

Her mouth tightened. “But then I wouldn’t look as good in a white mini, would I?”

Abruptly, she squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, Christ, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

Kate said nothing. She became aware of a tap dripping, rhythmically, into the silence. Lucy’s forehead was creased in anguish. “Ignore me, I’m just in a bitchy mood, that’s all. It wasn’t only about you, anyway. Jack and I have been going through a bad patch lately, the kids have been brats. And to top it off I’m having an absolute bugger of a period — my stomach’s swollen like a balloon, I feel yucky, and then you come walking in looking like Audrey bloody Hepburn. And instead of some geeky pervert, the only bloke who replies to your advert turns out to be a gem!” She gave a weak smile. “Sometimes, you know, things just get on top of you.”

Kate felt as though she’d inadvertently opened a door that should have stayed locked. “Do you want us to leave?”

“No, of course I don’t! Oh, look, please, don’t take any notice of me. I’m just in a bad mood and feeling sorry for myself.”

The tap made a metallic plink as each drip hit the sink. Lucy reached out and tightened it. The drips slowed but didn’t stop. She watched it, her arms folded around herself. “You’d better go back and rescue Alex,” she said. “Jack’ll have bored him witless about work by now. I’ll be through when I’ve made the coffee.”

Kate opened the door. “Kate?”

She looked back. Lucy gave a small shrug. “Sorry.”

Kate went out, letting the door close behind her. The glimpse of Lucy’s bitterness had been as unexpected as a mouthful of rot from a wholesome apple. She stood for a while in the dark of the hallway. From behind her in the kitchen came the muted click of a cupboard being opened, the chink of crockery. Ahead of her a spill of light fell through the partly open lounge door. There was no sound of conversation. Kate went in.

Alex didn’t look up when she entered. He was alone at the table, his face full of shadows in the candlelight. His expression was lost and faraway as he regarded the small piece of fire swaying from the candle nearest him. Kate hung back as he passed his finger through the yellow dip, halted, then steadily passed it back. The flame fluttered with each passage, leaning towards his finger as though trying to catch it.

Kate moved towards the table. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

Alex’s eyes were wide and startled as his head came up. “What?”

“Running your finger through the flame like that. Doesn’t it hurt?”

He stared at his finger and the candle as though he had only just noticed them. “Uh, no, not really.”

Kate sat down. “It must burn, though, surely?”

He looked back into the flame. “Only if you let it.” He smiled at her. “Try it.”

Kate laughed and shook her head. “No, thanks.”

“It doesn’t hurt. Not if you’re fast enough, and don’t go too close to the wick.”

She gave him a sceptical look. “Honest. It won’t burn if you do it right.”

They were staring at each other over the candle. Tentatively, Kate held out her finger until it was only a few inches away from the flame. “No,” she said, with a laugh, snatching it back.

“Come on. Trust me.”

She looked at him and extended her finger again. A slim line of smoke rose from the flame. She could feel the heat against her skin. Her finger quivered. From the hallway came the sound of Lucy returning with the coffee. Kate quickly drew back her hand, feeling both relieved and cowardly. “I’ll take your word for it.”

They shared a taxi home. Alex insisted on dropping off Kate first, assuring her that it was quicker that way. After a second’s hesitation, she accepted. She hadn’t planned on letting him know her address but, since he’d just been to Lucy and Jack’s, that seemed petty and pointless. They sat next to each other on the back seat. To begin with, they talked easily enough. Alex seemed almost garrulous when she asked him about where he lived, explaining how he was in temporary accommodation after being caught up in a chain of house buyers. After exchanging contracts with the couple who were buying his flat, the people whose house he was supposed to be buying had withdrawn theirs from the market. “I’d got three days to find somewhere else before the new owners moved into mine,” he told her. “So now most of my stuff’s in storage, and I’m stuck renting a studio flat until I can find somewhere else.”

“Have you seen anywhere yet?”

“Uh, no, not really. I don’t have much time to look. You know how it is.”

His self-consciousness had returned. “Well, at least nobody’ll know where to find you out of hours,” Kate said, lightly, wanting to draw him out again. Alex looked confused. “Patients, I mean,” she explained, feeling stupid. “I’d have thought being a psychologist was like a doctor, always getting people pestering you at home. Now you’ve moved, though, and gone ex-directory as well, I don’t expect they’ll be able to.”