Chris Curran - All the Little Lies

‘I’ll tell them I’m her daughter.’ Why was she feeling like a naughty child? She felt tears gather in her eyes and a pain stab inside her throat. Was his support too much to ask for? She ripped off a piece of kitchen roll and headed for the door pretending to blow her nose rather than wipe her eyes. Turning back to him she said, ‘Well I’m going and that’s it.’ She just managed to stop herself from adding, ‘So there.’

It was pathetic and she knew it, but she ran upstairs and locked herself in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet her arms wrapped round herself. Damn, damn, damn. Damn her mum and dad, damn Alex and damn Stella Carr. This ought to be the happiest time in her life, when she should be thinking about the future not the past. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to rest until she found out all she could about her birth mother.

And about how she died.

It was a long way to Newcastle and Eve would normally have insisted on at least sharing the driving, but this time she slept for much of the journey.

Alex had come upstairs while she sat miserably in the bathroom and tapped on the door.

‘Eve, I’m so sorry. If it’s that important to you, I’ll cancel my appointments and come with you. Let’s book a hotel for a couple of nights and I’ll get in touch with the Baltic. As an art historian I should at least be able to arrange for us to meet a curator.’

He nudged her as they approached the city. It was already dark and her eyes were dazzled by the lights. ‘We’re nearly there. Our hotel is just across the river from the Baltic.’

She sat up and shook her head. They were approaching a steel bridge flanked by two others. On the right she recognized the Tyne Bridge. The river below them was a dark mirror gleaming with reflections of city lights.

When they stopped outside their hotel Eve looked across the water. The gallery was a great chunk of a building. Over the front the massive words, BALTIC FLOUR MILLS, proclaimed its industrial past, but brightly lit glass sections at the top and sides relieved its bulk.

Eve stared hard at it almost imagining she could see the pictures inside. She’d hoped to have a look round as soon as they arrived, but the exhibition spaces must be closed by now. Alex had got them an appointment with one of the curators next morning.

Eve was still cloudy from sleep and struggled to listen as he carried on talking and pointing. ‘That’s the Millennium Bridge leading over to the Baltic. They call it the Blinking Eye.’

Eve could see how it had got its name. Hanging low over the water it really did look like the slender outline of the upper and lower lids of a wide open eye. Its two semicircles of light, the top lid lit up in blue and purple and the lower a curve of brilliant white, shone in the black glass of the river.

She smiled at Alex. ‘You sound like a city guide.’ When he looked down and she noticed his knuckles turn white on the wheel she realized her mistake, but said nothing. Alex had done his PhD at Newcastle University and it was where he had met, married and lived with his first wife, Beth. Where their children were born. Where their marriage fell apart before Beth took the children to Australia and broke contact.

‘It’s changed quite a bit since I was here,’ was all he said as he pulled into the hotel car park and turned off the engine.

He took her hand to help her out and must have realized how wobbly she was because he pulled her close. She rested her head on his chest, wanting suddenly to cry. He was very warm and held her tightly, whispering, ‘Was the journey all right? I know you hate being a passenger. And I’m not a patch on you for driving. Had a sticky moment on the M25 when that bloody Audi cut me up.’

She remembered jolting awake to see a silver flash speeding away from them and hearing Alex curse, but she had fallen asleep right after. Now she saw how anxious he must have been all these hours and one tear spilled onto her cheek. She wiped it away. ‘You did brilliantly.’

He kissed her gently on the mouth and for the first time in weeks she felt a surge of desire.

‘Let’s check in,’ she said.

When they got to their room she had to dash to the toilet. Nowadays she felt as if her bladder had shrunk to nothing. She came out to see Alex standing by the window looking over the river. It was a lovely view, but she pulled off her shoes and trousers and lay on the bed looking at him. He was tall and slim, and although he was twenty years older than her, he didn’t look it. And there was something about his back, with his T-shirt all crumpled from the long drive, that was so vulnerable it made her want to cry again. He usually seemed so calm and composed that she still sometimes thought of him as a professor and herself as a student, but today she felt almost maternal. And guilty. She had been completely wrapped up in wanting to find out about Stella Carr and hadn’t thought how coming here would stir up memories of his first marriage.

Without turning he said, ‘Shall I make you some coffee?’

‘I don’t want anything but you right now.’

He came to her and they kissed and he held her very tightly. When he moved back to look at her, his eyes shone almost gold in the light from the bedside lamp. They made love then, slowly and in silence and when it was over they lay close together, their breath coming in matching rhythms.

The next thing she was aware of was Alex brushing her hair away from her face, and she realized he was dressed and that she had slept.

‘I can’t face going out to eat, can you?’ he said. ‘Room service is a bit pricey, but I could get a takeaway and sneak it in if you like.’

Eve was too sleepy to be hungry, but knew she should eat. ‘A spicy pizza would be nice and some cold juice.’

He jumped up. ‘Just what I fancy, but with a couple of beers instead of the juice.’

Alex put the TV on for her, but she grabbed the book she was reading from her bag.

It wasn’t until she heard the music for the television news that she realized how long he’d been gone. A few minutes later he came in with a pizza box and a carrier bag. His hair was damp.

‘There was a queue, then it started pouring with rain and I had to wait in a doorway.’ He rubbed a hand over his face.

She pulled herself up straight in the bed. ‘Alex, what’s wrong.’

He had turned to the little table by the window and was unpacking the bag. ‘Oh, nothing, except some boy racer nearly knocked me into the river. Just managed to jump out of his way and, more importantly, to save the food.’ He faced her with a smile. ‘No harm done. Now let’s eat before you fall asleep again.’

The photo session turned out all right in the end. After Ben Houghton drove away and Stella saw Maggie staring down at her, she raced inside and up the stairs, but Maggie was in the bathroom. Stella tapped on the door.

‘Maggie, are you all right?’ There was no answer, so she went to the kitchen and made herself some beans on toast.

When the phone in the hall rang Maggie hurtled down wrapped in a towel. She leaned over and closed the kitchen door so that Stella couldn’t hear what she was saying. Minutes later she was slamming out the front door.

Stella had been awake for hours when she heard a hoot from outside. As she opened the front door she felt a lurch of anxiety. What if Ben did something while they were alone in the car? But Maggie, looking straight ahead, was in the passenger seat.

Stella sat in the back of the car watching Maggie nuzzle at Ben as he drove with one hand on her knee. He looked back and winked at Stella, which made her face go red.