The Other Side of the Door, Nicci French [new reading .TXT] 📗

‘You’d better come as well, Sonia,’ said Hayden, jovially. ‘Keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t go wild.’

Sonia looked at him icily. She was the only one among us who ever seemed to quell Hayden, but not tonight. He patted her shoulder and said: ‘Is that glare your way of saying yes?’

‘I’ll come if you want,’ said Sonia to Amos, turning her back on Hayden.

‘Great. Neal?’

‘No,’ said Neal.

‘No?’

‘I’m not in the mood.’

‘OK. That’s the four of us, then.’

‘Your maths is wrong,’ I said.

‘You, Sonia, Amos and me—I assume young Joakim is staying with his mates.’

‘You haven’t asked me. You’re making assumptions.’

‘You’ll like it.’ He touched the back of my hand. ‘You’re a party animal.’

‘A tired and pissed-off party animal.’

‘Please.’ He leaned forward and said softly into my ear, ‘I need to be with you tonight.’

I was glad that in the dim light no one could see me blush. ‘Just for a bit, then.’

‘Well.’ Neal aimed for a casual tone and missed. ‘If you’re all going, I might as well join you after all.’

Hayden smiled widely at him. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Why not? The more the merrier.’

It was a big party and a tiny house. Every room bulged with people. They overflowed up the staircase and spilled out into the narrow garden. Music pumped loudly; I could feel the walls shake and the floorboards vibrate. As far as I could tell, in the smoky half-darkness, it was a motley collection: some young, even as young as Joakim, and some much older—men with grey hair pulled back into ponytails, women with tattoos on their shoulders and a musky smell. It was like being in a music tent at Glastonbury, except the beer was free, cold and plentiful.

Hayden was swallowed up in the crowd, most of whom seemed to know him. I saw a woman with beautiful red hair throw her arms around his neck. Sonia and Amos went into the garden together; later I saw them sitting on the uncut grass under a small dead tree, sharing a glass of wine and talking to a hugely pregnant woman. Neal stuck to me as I threaded through the rooms in search of a drink and a place I could sit and watch the crowd. When I was a teenager, I used to hate being at a party where I didn’t know anyone: that agonizing self-consciousness when you stand in a room full of animated strangers talking to each other, hugging, kissing—what are you supposed to do with yourself? Arrange your face in that I-don’t-care look? Spend a large amount of time in the bathroom, while people who genuinely need to be in there rattle the door handle? Walk purposefully around as if you’re searching for a friend you know isn’t there? I can’t remember when I stopped feeling awkward and learned just to sit back and see what happened.

‘Where are we going?’ Neal said.

‘I’m going to sit on the stairs, I think.’

We found a step near the top and I took a gulp of beer from the can I’d found in the bath, which was full of ice cubes. From there, I could see Hayden. If he looked up, he could have seen me too, but he didn’t look up. He was focused on whoever was with him: at that particular moment, it was two women and another man, and they were all laughing. I understood that, before long, Hayden and I would part. There was a kind of giddy momentum between us. It was like being on a swing, swooping high, but soon we’d reach the top and curve down again. Then it would be over.

‘Is this step free?’ a woman with a handsome face and prematurely grey hair asked.

I smiled at her and she sat just below Neal and me and leaned her head back so it was resting against my knee, as if we were old friends.

‘I’m Bonnie,’ I said. ‘This is Neal. And we know nobody.’

‘I’m Sarah. If you don’t know anyone, how come you’re here?’

‘Hayden brought us along.’

‘Hayden?’

‘That’s right.’

‘I didn’t know he was here.’

‘He’s down there.’ I nodded in his direction. He’d got hold of a bottle of whisky from somewhere and was pouring it into his glass and the glass of the woman he was talking to.

‘So he is. Charming another poor fool.’

‘Do you know a lot of the people here?’ asked Neal. His voice was unsteady; he seemed mysteriously to have got drunk without drinking anything.

‘Not as many as I thought I would, considering it’s my party.’

‘Oh! You live here, then?’

‘Yes. I’m dead tired but someone’s in my bed. Two people, actually. Hello, Hayden.’

He was making his way up the stairs, still holding the whisky bottle. The woman he’d been talking to trailed after him, huge kohl-rimmed eyes, and a cigarette jammed between her lips.

‘This is Miriam Sylvester,’ said Hayden. ‘She’s a teacher too.’

‘Hi.’ I raised a hand.

She gave me a curious look. ‘You’re the friend of Sonia’s.’

‘You make that sound like a bad thing,’ I said, with a laugh. ‘I’d thought I wouldn’t know anyone at all, but everybody seems to know Hayden and now I meet an old buddy of Sonia’s.’

‘Well, we worked together in Sheffield.’

‘You’ve got to tell me something embarrassing about her,’ I said. ‘Something I can use against her one day.’

Miriam took a deep drag on her cigarette. The column of ash grew longer, then delicately dislodged itself and fell at her feet.

‘And Sarah here,’ said Hayden, ‘Sarah knows an ex-girlfriend of Amos’s.’

I looked at her with new interest. ‘You mean Jude?’ I said.

‘We were at school together,’ said Sarah. ‘You know her?’

‘Bonnie was the girlfriend after,’ said Hayden.

‘This is insane,’ I said. ‘Can someone please introduce me to someone who doesn’t know everyone I know?’

Miriam lit another cigarette. ‘So you know Sonia, do you?’ she said, with the irritating glint people have when they know something about you. ‘And I know about you.’

‘Me?’

‘Banjo,’ she said triumphantly.

‘I’m not ashamed,’ I said. ‘In fact, I’m unashamed.’

I