Shaun Hutson: Warhol's Prophecy

Burnside paused a moment, then opened the office door again.

‘Sandy,’ he called, ‘have you got a minute, please?’

The two men locked stares, Burnside finally looking away, stepping to one side to allow their secretary access to the room.

Sandra Bennett smiled at both men as she entered, the smile a little more muted as she looked at Rob.

He ran swiftly appraising eyes over her: the slim legs and narrow hips, the shoulder-length ash-blonde hair. Narrow, finely chiselled features, and those eyes – inviting.

An invitation you couldn’t turn down , Rob pondered, shifting in his seat.

She was wearing a black jacket and skirt. Simple. Efficient.

She sat down opposite Rob and crossed her legs, smoothing a crease from her skirt, aware that he was studying her. There was still a part of her that welcomed that gaze, and all that might lie behind it.

‘Take a letter, Miss Bennett,’ said Burnside, grinning.

‘Frank, you’re not usually this formal.’ She smiled.

‘We need to be this time,’ Rob said. He explained to her what was going on with the vans they wanted to buy, watching as she made notes on her pad, stopping occasionally to look at him, unsettling him by the length of one or two of those glances.

Burnside was chipping in with his own ideas but, when Sandy looked up at them after each flurry of scribbling, it was Rob’s gaze that she caught and held.

Finally she got to her feet, and tapped the notepad with her pen.

‘I’ll sort it out,’ she said, smiling.

And she was gone.

‘Give them hell, Sandy,’ Burnside chuckled after her.

‘What else can I do for you, Frank?’ Rob wanted to know, looking up at his partner still standing in the doorway.

Burnside appeared vague.

‘You’re still here,’ Rob continued. ‘So is there something else?’

‘Just be careful, Rob,’ said the older man. ‘Like I said, I know it’s none of my business, but . . .’

Rob cut him short. ‘That’s right,’ he said flatly.

‘If it’s any consolation, I can understand why you did it. I mean, she’s a good-looking girl, I don’t deny that, and—’

‘Spare me the shoulder to cry on, Frank. I said it’s over, and it is.’ He got to his feet, crossing to the door, holding it open for his partner, who hesitated a minute then left. Rob closed the door, but lingered next to it.

Through the glass wall that formed the front of his office, he could clearly see Sandy sitting at her desk, fingers flashing quickly across the keyboard of her VDU.

Waiting for her to turn round and look at you?

‘It’s over,’ he said under his breath.

He wondered if these words of reassurance were for his own benefit.

It was a moment or two before he went back and sat down again.

6

‘I GOT LOST today, Dad.’

Becky said the words almost gleefully, smiling happily first at Rob then at Hailey.

They had eaten dinner in the kitchen, as they always did; the room that had once been the dining room having been transformed, about a year ago, into a study, and what had once been the study having been redecorated to turn it into a playroom for Becky. What the hell: they only ever used the dining room once or twice a year, when their parents visited and Hailey cooked for more than just the three of them. They weren’t exactly dinnerparty types. The room was wasted, Rob had said. So for the last eleven months they had eaten every meal in the kitchen. Some had been consumed in an atmosphere close to despair, especially in the last six months, but the meal this particular evening had been an enjoyable one. Not just because of Hailey’s culinary skill, but also because they had all laughed and joked. The conversation had flowed easily, Rob had looked a little more relaxed than usual, and Hailey had been grateful for the change in his character.

Both of them had tried hard to keep their true feelings hidden from Becky, ever since the discovery of Rob’s affair, and, most of the time, they had been successful.

Of course, Becky wasn’t stupid and, especially when Rob’s indiscretion had first come to light, she had been only too quick to spot a difference in her parents. Puzzled when her father, in particular, snapped at her so vehemently for apparently trivial things, there had been tears. But on the whole the emotional upheaval that both Hailey and Rob had been – and were still – going through was well disguised.

At first, Rob didn’t react to his daughter’s last words. He merely sipped his glass of mineral water, lost in his own thoughts.

‘Dad, I said I got lost,’ Becky repeated, unsure whether her father had heard her.

‘Where?’ he said finally, a slight edge to his voice.

Becky began to tell him.

‘Or should I say how?’

He was looking straight at Hailey now.

‘I didn’t want to worry you,’ she said. ‘Everything was all right in the end.’

‘Well, that’s OK then, isn’t it?’ he said. She wasn’t slow to catch the note of sarcasm in his voice.

No, it was something even stronger.

Disdain?

Anger?

‘A man found me,’ Becky continued. ‘He was really nice, wasn’t he, Mum?’

Hailey smiled and nodded, aware of Rob’s eyes boring into her.

‘Well, that’s fine then, sweetheart,’ he said, getting to his feet and kissing the top of Becky’s head.

He carried his plate across to the sink, then returned and collected those of Hailey and his daughter. As he looked across at Hailey, she saw his eyes narrow slightly.

‘Can I watch a video before I go to bed, Dad?’ Becky wanted to know.

‘Just half an hour,’ Hailey offered.

Becky scrambled down from the table and disappeared through into the sitting room, leaving Hailey and Rob to clear the table and wash up.

‘Don’t start, Rob,’ Hailey said, filling the sink with hot water.

‘Start about what?’ he snapped. ‘Our daughter getting lost when you were supposed to be looking after her? Why should I? I mean, she’s fine, isn’t she? Why should I start?’

‘If you knew how I felt, waiting for her to be found, you might be a bit more sympathetic.’ She handed him a clean, dripping plate.

He didn’t answer, merely continued drying crockery as she passed them to him.

‘Don’t give me the silent treatment, Rob,’ Hailey muttered. ‘If you’ve got something to say, then say it.’

‘Perhaps I should wait and do my talking tonight. That’s what those bloody sessions are for, isn’t it?’

She shot him an angry glance.

‘I didn’t force you to come, Rob. And if you want to stop going, then that’s up to you too. I thought we needed help. I hoped you understood that. I thought you wanted to do something to help our relationship. After all, it was you who fucked it all up in the first place.’

‘Yeah, I know. And if I hadn’t had an affair, we wouldn’t be going to Marriage Guidance, would we?’

Again she caught that heavy scorn in his voice.

‘It’s called Relate,’ she told him.

‘What difference does the name make? It does the same job, doesn’t it?’

‘And what job’s that? What job do you think it’s supposed to do, Rob?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m going to sit with Becky,’ he said, throwing the tea towel onto the worktop. ‘Perhaps she needs someone to keep an eye on her.’

He was out of the kitchen before Hailey could reply.

She heard his footsteps on the stairs.

Despite the fact that the television was on, the volume was low and Hailey wasn’t really paying much attention to the programme. It was a soap opera – wasn’t it always? She merely gazed blankly at the screen, listening as Rob made his way down the stairs, then into the kitchen. A moment later he wandered into the sitting room and sat down in the chair on the other side of the room, his gaze straying first to the TV and then to the daily paper lying on the coffee table close to him. He picked it up and flipped it around to the sports pages.