Nicola Barker - Darkmans

‘No.’

She removed the cigar from behind her ear and rolled it, dreamily, between her fingers. ‘It just seems so…I don’t know…so coarse ; so limited in its application, so naive , somehow…’

‘And what about Peter?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Does he feel the same way you do?’

‘Peter?’

She considered this question for a second and then nodded, emphatically. ‘ Exactly the same, I’d say.’

‘Ah…’

Kane beamed at her. She smiled straight back at him. They were flirting with each other.

‘…It’s all finally coming together,’ he said.

‘Is it really?’

She was searching the pockets of her overalls for a lighter.

‘Yes it is. Would you like to hear my little theory?’

‘Your little theory? Sure…’ She found her lighter. ‘Although…’ she held it, poised in her hand, thoughtfully ‘…perhaps it’d be more fun if we waited for Peter? I’m sure he’d be just fascinated in what you have to say…’

‘That’s a fine idea in principle,’ Kane conceded, ‘but it could be rather a long wait…’

She shrugged.

‘Or no wait at all,’ he countered.

She appraised him, steadily.

‘Just call it a gut instinct,’ he smiled.

She appraised his gut, at her leisure. ‘It’s a charming gut,’ she said finally, ‘if just a fraction soft .’

‘An infallible gut,’ Kane insisted, tightening it up.

‘So what’s this infallible gut of yours telling you?’

‘It’s telling me,’ he told her, ‘that there is no Peter.’

She gazed at him, blankly.

‘Peter’s just another forgery.’

‘ Urgh …’ she shuddered. ‘That awful word again.’

‘Sorry,’ he apologised.

She popped the cigar between her lips, struck her lighter, leaned into the flame and puffed.

‘In actual fact,’ he continued, ‘the spelling’s a bit of a giveaway…Petaborough Reproductions. Peta, I believe, is the feminine form of the name…’

‘I’ve often found that my most successful lies,’ she finally stopped puffing, removed the cigar from her mouth and inspected the burning tip, ‘ you know…those outrageous untruths, those real hum-dingers…generally benefit from the addition of the odd loose screw. If all the facts add up, if everything feels too neat and pat, if all the elements fall too readily into place, then you automatically arouse suspicion, because life simply isn’t like that.’

Kane was frowning.

‘Put it this way,’ she continued, ‘if the truth was a woman she’d be a whore. She’d be an extremely supple, highly sinuous, ridiculously wanton slut .’

‘Let me get this straight…’ Kane suddenly found himself panting slightly as he spoke (the former strain in his back was now a burning ache, his arms were cramping, his neck felt like a blade of grass endeavouring to support a bowling ball) ‘…Peta Borough ? Does that make Borough your maiden name?’

She nodded, inhaling on the cigar, holding the smoke in her lungs, then exhaling, with a small cough.

‘And you don’t mind at all?’ he wondered.

‘ Mind? Mind what?’

‘Being named after one of Britain’s most pedestrian towns.’

‘Peterborough’s a city,’ she corrected him, pedantically.

‘Never cared enough to find out,’ he admitted.

‘Well shame on you. It’s a wonderful place. Its transport links are incomparable.’

‘But why, I wonder,’ he demanded, heading off on a complete tangent, ‘did J.P. — your own brother —misspell your name on the business card Beede had?’

‘And it has a fascinating history…’ she maintained.

‘Oh fuck ,’ he snorted, ‘J.P. isn’t your brother…’

She gazed up at the glass ceiling, piously. ‘And then there’s the cathedral,’ she sighed. ‘If ever you get the opportunity…’

‘ Is J.P. dead? Do you even have a brother?’

She just smirked. ‘A lovely market. Several really wonderful restaurants…’

Kane was silent for a while. His phone vibrated. He tried to ignore it. A million tiny beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. She inspected the cigar again, fondly. ‘Don’t you think it sweet , though,’ she enquired, ‘the two of you — father and son, purportedly so very different —being immediately attracted to the exact-same object?’

‘I was attracted to the table first,’ he insisted.

‘The hot bench,’ she corrected him.

He paused, speculatively. ‘Actually, no. That’s not entirely true. I was attracted to you first.’

She snorted, jovially.

‘You don’t believe me?’

He peered up at her again, with an intense amount of effort.

‘I think you believe you,’ she smiled, ‘and that’s what really counts.’

‘You think I’m full of shit?’

‘Full to capacity.’

‘And how about Beede?’

His head sank down again.

‘Beede? Good God , no. The most straightforward man I ever met.’

‘Oh come on …’ he scoffed.

‘His life , on the other hand,’ she freely conceded, ‘is extremely complicated.’

‘Do you know Beede at all ?’ he wondered.

‘I know him well enough.’

‘Do you like him?’

‘Like him? Like Beede?’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m utterly besotted.’

Kane’s head jerked up–

Ow

He winced.

‘You seem shocked,’ she said.

‘Not shocked, no…’

‘Then what?’

‘Perhaps just a touch disappointed,’ he conceded.

‘Why?’ she demanded.

‘Because you’re gorgeous.’

‘And?’

‘And he’s such a fool.’

‘But such a genuine fool, don’t you think?’

Silence

‘So does Beede know?’

‘Know what?’

‘How you feel.’

She deliberated over this question for a second. ‘Probably.’

‘But you haven’t actually told him?’

She glanced up, frowning. ‘Why should I?’

‘Why shouldn’t you?’

‘Because there wouldn’t be any point. My feelings aren’t reciprocated.’

‘How can you be sure? Beede can be pretty hard to read…’

‘Beede’s easy to read.’

Kane was quiet for a while.

‘I was attracted to you,’ he murmured, almost sullen, now.

‘So what do you do?’ she cheerfully ignored him.

‘For a living? Didn’t Beede already fill you in?’

‘Why would he?’ she snorted. ‘Beede never tells me anything…’

She looked around for an ashtray but couldn’t find one, so she walked over to Kane, pulled open his jacket pocket and tapped her ash into it. ‘Not so much as a peep. In fact he was so evasive at first, so secretive , that I was actually obliged to go to ridiculous lengths to satisfy my curiosity.’

‘But I thought you just said…’

Kane frowned, confused.

‘I said that Beede was straightforward, not that he was willing to wear his heart on his sleeve.’

‘So what did you do?’ Kane wondered.

‘How d’you mean?’

‘To satisfy your curiosity?’

‘I hired a detective.’

‘You did what ?’

Kane’s head jerked up again.

‘I hired a private detective.

But he wasn’t terribly good. And everything got ridiculously complicated. But — please God — let’s not get dragged into all of that …’

She idly pushed his hair aside and stared into his face with her green eyes.

‘So what did you find out?’ he asked, struggling to meet her gaze. She dropped his fringe, with a sigh, and returned to the hot bench. ‘Nothing, really. Only as much as I’ve told you. That he was married, then divorced. That his ex-wife was ill. That he had a son who made his living from selling drugs…’