Warhol's Prophecy

30

BY THE TIME Hailey wandered into the living room again, Rob had changed into a pair of jeans and a denim shirt.

She carefully carried two mugs of tea, and set his down on the table beside him.

There was already a glass there, and she could smell the whiskey it contained.

‘I needed it – before you ask,’ he said.

She sat down at the opposite end of the sofa from him, legs tucked up beneath her.

Rob took a sip of the spirit, wincing slightly as it burned its way to his stomach.

‘Adam,’ he said, without inflection.

She looked at him.

‘Adam Walker.’ His eyes were still fixed on the TV screen.

‘I said I wanted him to meet you,’ Hailey told him. ‘I said you’d like to thank him.’

‘Oh, I did want to thank him. He seems like a nice enough bloke. Is he? You probably know more about him than I do.’

‘He rang me later to see how Becky was.’

No need to mention their lunch.

Rob nodded. ‘You invited a complete stranger to our house,’ he muttered, still without looking at her.

‘I invited the man who saved our daughter to meet you.’ Her voice was heavy with scorn. ‘After all, it was me who fucked up, wasn’t it? I let her get lost, didn’t I, Rob? I mean, you’re never going to let me forget that, are you?’

He sipped at his drink.

‘He’s a good-looking bloke, isn’t he?’

‘Are you asking me or telling me?’ Hailey wanted to know.

‘A nice bloke.’

‘What are you going on about, Rob?’

‘I’m just saying he’s a nice bloke. What’s so wrong with that?’

‘Yes, he’s a nice bloke. Yes, he’s good-looking. What do you want to hear? How about, “Yes, I’d suck his cock if he asked me”?’

‘There’s no need to get stupid about it, Hailey.’

‘Don’t patronize me, you bastard. I know you.’

They locked stares.

‘I’m going to bed,’ said Rob. ‘Perhaps you should, too. You’ll need to feel fresh for the morning, won’t you? I’m sure Jim Marsh wouldn’t want you fucking up on your first day back.’

Rob got to his feet.

He drained what was left in his glass and left it empty on the coffee table.

‘It’s great to be home,’ he said, with a humourless grin.

‘You’re pathetic at times, Rob.’

He closed the sitting-room door behind him. Hailey heard his footsteps on the stairs.

She felt the first tears welling up in her eyes.

Tears of anger? Of pain? Of loss?

It felt as if there was a huge empty hole inside her.

In her very soul.

She continued to stare blankly at the television.

When she first heard the phone, Hailey had no idea how long it had been ringing.

She forced open her eyes, emerging from a troubled sleep to register its electronic shrillness.

Rob flapped out a hand and grabbed the receiver, pulling it to his ear, his eyes still closed.

‘Hello,’ he croaked.

Hailey saw that the glowing red digits on the radio alarm showed 12.49 a.m.

‘Hello?’ Rob said again, clearing his throat.

She rolled over and looked at him – at the phone.

‘Either say something, or get off the fucking line,’ he snapped into the mouthpiece.

After a moment or two he slammed the receiver down.

‘Who was it?’ she wanted to know.

‘Some dickhead with the wrong number,’ he told her.

‘Are you sure?’

He exhaled deeply. ‘Go to sleep, Hailey,’ Rob murmured.

‘Didn’t she speak? Perhaps she was frightened I’d overhear. Never mind, you’ll see her again tomorrow, won’t you?’

‘There was no one there,’ he said angrily. ‘If it happens again, you pick it up. It might be your friend Adam.’

They lay with their backs to each other.

It was a long time before either slept.