Warhol's Prophecy

33

THE PUBLIC BAR of the Tawny Owl was relatively empty for a lunchtime. The smell of liquor mingled with the odours of food; the sound of a dozen conversations competed with music from the jukebox.

Rob Gibson sat back in his seat, glancing around, tapping one finger on the table as he listened to the music.

‘. . . I’m all out of faith, this is how I feel . . .’

He saw Frank Burnside paying for the drinks, then make his way carefully back through the light crowd of customers towards their table.

‘. . . I’m cold and I am shamed, lying naked on the floor . . .’

Burnside set down the two glasses of Jameson’s, and seated himself opposite his partner.

‘. . . Illusion never changed, into something real . . .’

‘Maggie would go mad if she could see me drinking.’ Burnside smiled.

‘Oh, come on, Frank,’ Rob protested. ‘If you can’t have a drink to celebrate becoming a father, when can you?’

‘I suppose you’re right.’

‘Of course I’m right. Get it down you. And congratulations. When’s it due again?’

‘November. I didn’t want to say anything until we were sure this time – after Maggie lost the last one. And neither of us is getting any younger.’

‘Cheers, Dad,’ chuckled Rob, raising his glass in salute.

The two men drank.

‘I remember when Hailey got pregnant,’ Rob mused. ‘I felt like a kid with a new toy. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy. She moaned because I wouldn’t touch her, but I was scared of hurting the baby. And when Becky was born . . .’ He allowed the sentence to trail off. ‘She was born by Caesarean. I was the first one to hold her. I couldn’t believe it. Hailey and I just looked at each other and burst into tears. When I was ringing people afterwards, I kept crying too. I think it’s relief as much as anything. You know that they’re all right, they’re healthy. It’s like the wait’s been worth it.’

‘How are things between the two of you now?’ Burnside wanted to know. ‘If you don’t mind me asking?’

‘It’s still difficult,’ said Rob. ‘It’s been worse since I got back from Manchester. She started work again today, too.’

‘Well, that’s good, isn’t it?’

The look on Rob’s face told Burnside that it wasn’t.

‘She claims it’s only part-time, but I know what she’s like. She loved that job. If Marsh asks her to put in a few extra hours, she’ll do it.’

‘What’s the problem?’

‘I don’t want her working too many hours. I don’t want her with him any more than she needs to be.’ He sipped his Jameson’s.

‘Why?’

‘He fancies her – I’m not stupid. When they used to go away together on business, I reckon he had a crack at her. He might even have fucked her.’

‘Come on, Rob, don’t you trust her? Hailey wouldn’t do anything like that.’

‘How do you know, Frank?’

Burnside looked at him evenly, then took a sip of his own drink.

‘She might feel that she wants to get back at me now, especially after what happened with Sandy. If Marsh comes on to her again, she might just go for it. Just to get back at me.’

‘How old’s the guy? I thought he was in his fifties.’

‘So what?’

‘Give Hailey a bit of credit, Rob. If she really wanted to get back at you, I’m sure she could find some other way.’

‘Yeah, maybe. But then she doesn’t know what happened while I was in Manchester, does she?’

‘Meaning?’

‘Sandy came up.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Rob. I thought that was over.’

‘It is. I didn’t fucking plan it. She turned up at the hotel. She spent the night.’

‘You fucked her?

‘She put it on a plate, Frank.’

‘I don’t understand you . . .’

‘Don’t come over all sanctimonious on me. It doesn’t suit you,’ Rob snarled.

‘As long as she’s around, it’ll never be over, will it?’

Rob drained what was left in his glass.

‘Are you in love with her?’ Burnside continued.

‘How many times do I have to tell you? No! I told you before, this never had anything to do with love.’

Burnside, too, finished his drink. ‘I’m going back to work,’ he said.

‘What’s wrong, Frank? Are you disgusted? Do I offend your sensibilities? Your morals?’

‘I told you, I just don’t know what’s going on inside your head.’

‘Well, that makes two of us.’

Rob got to his feet and headed for the bar.

‘I’ll see you in a while,’ he said. ‘I need another drink.’

Burnside opened his mouth to say something, then realized it would be pointless.

When Rob turned around again he saw his partner disappearing out of the door.

He held the Jameson’s in his hand for long moments, then downed it in two huge swallows.