Cold Comfort (7 page)

“I don’t think so,” I said with a laugh. “Anyway,
I won’t want them.”

“Won’t you?”

“I don’t think so, no,” I said. He rested
his forehead against mine.

“Hardy?” Clarissa’s voice, closer now, was
an unwelcome intrusion. He flinched and took a step away from me, and it hurt
to see him do so after what he’d just said.

“In here,” he called. She appeared round
the corner, suspicious to find the pair of us alone. She was right to be.

“What are you doing… here…with
her
?”
She couldn’t have made the ‘her’ sound more of an insult if she’d tried.

“Give it a rest, Clarissa, it’s family
business. Nothing to do with you.” He marched past her, leaving the two of us
alone together.

She looked at me for a moment then circled
me while I just stood there, hoping she’d lose interest and go. I wished I’d
never allowed Emily to persuade me to come to this party.

“You’re pretty, I’ll give you that,” she
finally said, “but cheap. It’ll never be enough for him. He might tell you he
wants you, but he just wants to have you – then he’ll dump you, like all
the others. Do everyone a favour and stay away. Keep your slutty little baby
claws off of him. Mine are a lot sharper. You really don’t want to take me on, not
if you know what’s good for you. You seem to have snagged Charles’ interest, so
make do with that. That is unless you want me to destroy you?”

I laughed, mainly because she sounded so
fantastically sinister. Like a Cambridgeshire version of a Bond villain. I half
expected her to fall about laughing too. But she didn’t. Instead my laughter
incensed her further, and she slapped me hard across the cheek. Stunned, I
lifted my hand to touch the tender area and winced as she spun on her designer
heel and marched away. No one had ever hit me – ever. I didn’t like it one
bit.

I returned to the pool and spent the rest
of the afternoon lying on a sunbed on my own. I ignored every offer of company
made to me, including Charles and Emily. Emily didn’t really try, happy to be
dragged quickly away by one of her male admirers. Charles was the most persistent,
but eventually even he gave up. I could have sworn I heard him say ‘fucking
Hardy Somerville’ under his breath as he left.

I was miserable and wanted to go home. I
contemplated calling Ma to come and get me.

“Come on,” Emily’s excited voice broke into
my thoughts as the sun began to wane. “We need to get showered and changed
before dinner. There’s going to be a massive barbecue. They all want you to
play and sing again.”

“I don’t know. I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh for god’s sake, snap out of it. You
could have your pick of the guys here, and yet you’re moping around like
someone just died. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you. Hardy
Somerville’s no better, apparently. You should hear Clarissa bitching about him
and his bad mood.” She looked at me, noticing the spike in my interest at the
mention of his name. “Hey, did something happen between you two?”

“No,” I said defensively. She just smirked.
“Look, I told you, I’m not interested in any of them. I’m only at this party
because you insisted I’d ruin your life if I didn’t come. These people are not
our friends. They’d trample their own grannies if they thought there was
something good at the other end. I don’t know what you like about them.”

“Look around,” Emily said. I looked over at
the pool and the house beyond. It was an idyllic setting. “I want this life,”
she continued. “I don’t want to be like my mum and dad, doing a shit job for
shit pay just to scrape by, never having enough for holidays or extras. I want
money, and I don’t care how I get it. These guys have loads,” she said, nodding
over at the gaggle of guys who still remained round the pool. “I want some of
it spent on me. Who knows, maybe one day one of them will decide he can’t live
without me, but either way I don’t really care as long as I get treated nicely.”
I couldn’t hide my shock. “Always so holier than thou, Delilah. Well, grow up. Life’s
not all fairy tales, you know.” She didn’t have to tell me that – I knew
firsthand. It didn’t mean I wasn’t still shocked at her ‘money at any cost’
mentality. “So anyway, I need you tonight. They want your little performance
again. After that you can do whatever you like – call your mum to come and
get you, or go to bed – whatever you want. Until then I need you to hurry
your virgin white arse upstairs and get dressed. I have a man to snag, and I
need you to help me make it happen.”

*

An hour later I was dressed, sitting on the
bed waiting for Emily to finish her make-up. I’d picked another maxi dress, black
this time and slightly more fitted over the bust. I’d borrowed the denim jacket
again and my hair was loose around my shoulders. I watched as Emily put smoky make-up
around her eyes, making the pretty blue pop. It was amazing… she was really
quite talented at it. “Will you do that for me one day?” I asked. It was the
first exchange we’d had since she’d revealed her dastardly master plan. She
looked at me through the mirror, and I saw her face soften a bit.

“Sure. But you don’t really need it with
your freaky long eyelashes. Some of us have to make a bit more effort to scrub
up okay.”

“I need it,” I argued.

“Sure,” she said again. She added some lip
gloss and pulled on her own dress; it was a sheer pink number that was, for
once, quite decent, merely suggesting at what lay beneath rather than
trumpeting it.

“You look lovely,” I said, and meant it.

“You look like a rock chick, with all that
dark hair and denim. Charles is going to blow his load when he gets a look at
you. Charles Taylor…” She whistled. “I didn’t know you had it in you. The boys
at school always said you were too geeky… too thin. They thought you were kind
of ugly. What happened to you this summer?” she asked, sounding irritated. “You
seem to have blossomed. It’s like you don’t even have to try to get the boys to
look at you now.”

“Who do you like?” I asked, determined to
get her attention off me.

“Well, given between you and Clarissa the two
best guys are already taken, I quite like Jamie.”

“Was he the one you were on the shoulders
of in the pool?”

“Yeah. He’s fit. Nice body. He’s a rower –
planning to go to Cambridge next term. He’s minted from what he was saying about
the holidays he goes on.” The poor guy didn’t stand a chance, I thought. “Shall
we go?” Emily asked. The mood between us was still a little awkward. I got the
feeling that me getting the attention she sought was not in her plan, and it
annoyed her, no matter how much I assured her I wasn’t looking for it. “Don’t
forget the guitar,” she reminded me. I grabbed it from the bed and followed her
down the stairs.

The smell of roasting meat wafted towards
us as we approached the pool area. A huge barbecue had been set up, and in
addition there was a whole baby pig on a spit roast. These guys sure liked
their meat – there was enough being cooked to feed a small army. The beers
were flowing, and several people already looked the worse for wear after what
they’d put away this afternoon. I had a feeling the night was going to get
messy.

The evening was drawing in, and a rosy hue
lit the sky promising more fine weather the next day. Charles was directing
people to build a bonfire. “Delilah, can you help me get some more wood?” I
heard a voice behind me ask. It was Hardy.

“Sure,” I said with a shrug. I put my
guitar down and followed him through the garden until we reached a barn. Inside
there was a log pile big enough to keep them going for about the next ten
years.

“Mind out for spiders,” he warned me.

“I’m not bothered by them,” I told him,
reaching for some logs.

“Here, let me load you up,” he said. “Put
your arms out.” I did as he asked, and he began layering logs into my arms. “Let
me know when it gets too heavy,” he instructed. I nodded, silenced by the
dizzying effect of his presence. “You’re strong,” he remarked when my arms were
full of logs and I’d still not said anything. He began to grab some logs of his
own to carry back. “You always were a tough little thing.” He smiled, looking
at me. “I remember when you fell off that swing and bashed your eye; you never
made a peep. Keep your arms up, so you don’t drop them,” he said, looking at
the logs tilting in my arms as I lost focus on my task, caught up in the
tractor beam of his gaze.

“And I remember you were always bossy. Always
telling me what to do,” I bit back, embarrassed. He grinned, and I smiled back,
feeling a warm glow when I saw he still had those dimples. “It’s still there,”
I said.

“What is?”

“The treehouse. It’s still there. I spent
hours in there playing the guitar. I still do. The trapeze bust a few years ago,
though. I never got around to fixing it.”

“I can’t believe it’s still standing,” he said
with a laugh as we turned and walked back up to the designated bonfire area. “And
I can’t believe you didn’t break your neck on that trapeze. I worried about
that for years.” We were both laughing when we reached the others.

“Delilah, I think you’re carrying more than
Hardy,” Charles said as soon as he saw us. He walked over and took some of the
logs from my arms. “He’s not much of a gentleman, letting you get covered in
shit like that,” he said when all the logs were in a pile. He reached out and
gently brushed some of the cobwebs from my dress.

“Oh, I’m not bothered. I’m not much of a
lady, anyway,” I said. And then I blushed as I realised how it sounded. “I
mean…”

“It’s okay, Delilah, we know what you meant,”
Hardy said with a laugh. Even Charles was smiling at me, and I grinned back.

They escorted me over to where the burgers
were beginning to be dished out. It was quite a production line. Both Charles
and Hardy worried over me, making sure I had enough to eat before filling their
own plates and seeing me settled on a chair beside the slowly building fire. It
was nice. Comfortable. For once it didn’t feel competitive between them. I
liked listening to the banter they had, teasing each other about some rugby
match they’d played recently. Then Charles started teasing Hardy about Clarissa.
“What about you, Delilah, have you got a boyfriend?” Although it was Charles who
asked, I could tell by the intensity of Hardy’s gaze that he was just as keen
to hear the answer.

“No.” I was embarrassed to admit just how
sheltered my life had been up until now.

“I find that hard to believe,” Charles
prodded. “A girl like you. They must be all over you at school.” Hardy frowned.

“Don’t be silly.” I said, blushing. “I’m
the weird one. Too into music. Too tall and skinny. Just about everyone steers
clear.”

“Wow,” Charles replied, looking genuinely
amazed. “They must be blind as well as stupid if they can’t see what’s right in
front of them now. You’re going to be a stunner in my opinion…” I began to
protest, but he stopped me. “Seriously, Delilah, believe me, I’m quite an
expert on the female form.” That made me smile. “Ignore the fools at your school.
I’ve got a feeling you’re destined for great things.” It was sweet, and he
seemed earnest, so I smiled again appreciatively at him. Then I caught sight of
Hardy’s face. He was scowling at us, and my smile dropped. “How about some
music now?” Charles asked, oblivious to his friend’s feelings. I nodded and
moved to where I’d left my guitar, carefully removing it from its case when I
sat back down and started to tune it.

“You don’t need the tuner now?” Hardy
asked.

I smiled, remembering his gift all those
years ago. I was glad to see his expression was softer again as he watched me
prepare to sing. “No, I can manage by ear most of the time now, unless I’m playing
with other people.”

“Tuner?” Charles asked.

“It’s Hardy I have to thank for being able
to play the guitar at all. He bought me my first guitar for my birthday when I
was eight. Made me promise to get good at playing it. Gave me a tuner too, and I
used it for years.”

“You did us all a favour, man,” Charles
said, giving him a quick smile.

Hardy never stopped watching me. I could
feel his eyes upon me the whole time, even when Clarissa arrived and planted
herself on his lap. She looked over and scowled at me.

“What are you going to play?” Charles
asked.

“I don’t know. What do you want? I can play
most things if I’ve heard them, but I might not know all the lyrics. I’m happy
to take requests.”

“How about you sing something that means
something to you?” Charles suggested. I was stumped for a moment and then thought
of the perfect song.

“Okay.” I reached for my water and took a
sip before closing my eyes and starting to strum the opening chords for Jessie
J’s ‘Who You Are’. The song had meant a lot to me when I first heard it. I’d
been at a particularly low point at school, and I was blown away to hear lyrics
that described the way I felt. It had given me hope that things could get
better, and I’d immediately spent the next week learning how to play it. I’d
never played it in front of anyone else, though. Hell, apart from the party the
previous weekend, I’d never played much in front of any audience besides Mr
Morgan and Emily. Once again I closed my eyes and allowed myself to fall into
the music.

My voice rang out in the evening air, the
chatter around me quieting before I reached the middle of the first verse. I soared
easily into the chorus, the words now pouring from me like a prayer as I
allowed all my insecurities and loneliness to shade the music. I knew I was
baring my soul. I also knew I was doing it for Hardy. It was the only way I
could show him how I’d felt all those years. When I finished the last chorus
and strummed the final chords I finally opened my eyes. The applause was
instant and loud. The whole party seemed to have gathered round to listen, and
I couldn’t take in all the praise as they threw it at me. It was Hardy I looked
at. His gaze was on me, his face stunned, his eyes bright. When he saw me looking
he turned away, embarrassed. I thought I saw him lift a hand to brush something
from his cheek, and I wondered if I’d imagined it until I saw Clarissa scowl and
whisper angrily in his ear before she stood up and strode into the house.

“That was great, Delilah,” Charles said,
pulling my attention away from Hardy and Clarissa. “Seriously, I think you
could be a professional singer if you wanted to.” He sounded genuinely excited,
as if he’d discovered me or something. It was a sweet thing to say, and I
smiled. ”Sing something else,” he pleaded as several others joined in.

I looked over at Hardy again. He hadn’t
turned back to look at me since I’d seen him rub at his eyes. I wanted his
attention on me, especially now Clarissa had left. Without thinking I started
to play ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ by Simon and Garfunkel. It sounded better
with someone else on harmony, I knew, but I was singing it for a reason. It had
been our song. The one he had asked me to sing every day that summer. Whatever
else I sang, he’d always wanted that one. I’d convinced myself he’d thought the
words were about us, that he intended to be my bridge over troubled water. But then
he hadn’t come back, and I’d had to let the dream go.