Warhol's Prophecy

Her hands felt sweaty on the wheel.

Like first-date nerves?

She glanced at the dashboard clock: 2.32 p.m.

Plenty of time.

She didn’t have to collect Becky from Caroline Hacket’s house until five if necessary.

Plenty of time.

For what?

She switched on the cassette, wondering how much longer the journey to Walker’s house would take. The music filled the car, but she hardly seemed to hear it. Her mind was elsewhere, her gaze firmly fixed on the Scorpio as it moved along.

Hailey began to see more houses appearing now and she realized they were drawing closer to the outskirts of the city.

Closer to his house.

The house where you want to go.

A part of her said that this was insane. The sensible, married mother, with a husband and a career, told her it was insane.

But the woman who had been cheated on – who felt attracted to this good-looking, kind and considerate man – told her otherwise.

Two voices. Conflicting.

She would look at his work, she would take some of it away with her. She would try to help him.

Simple.

You want him. You want him inside you. There’s moisture between your legs already.

She shifted slightly in her seat.

Do you wish Rob could see you now? Would you like him to know what you intend to do with this man?

The Scorpio turned left and she followed.

If he offered her coffee, she would accept. She would look carefully at his work, offer opinions if he sought them.

Hold him tightly to you. Let him feel how much you want him. Show him.

Her head was spinning.

If only you could see me now, Rob. I’m paying you back. As I make love to this man, I’m taking revenge.

She swallowed hard. Caroline would be proud of her, she mused.

She knows you want him. She said so. Said she could see it in your eyes. If she slid a finger between your legs, she would also feel how much you wanted him.

Hailey saw the Scorpio slowing down, turning into the driveway of a large, 1930s-style house.

She swung the Astra in behind, and switched off her engine as she saw Walker clamber out.

The house stood on a wide street, both flanked and faced by buildings of similar appearance. It sported a fairly big front garden; not particularly well kept, she noted. The paintwork of the house itself looked as if it could do with freshening up.

As she slid from behind her steering wheel, she saw Walker heading towards the front door.

Her legs felt a little shaky.

A sudden breeze ruffled her hair as she followed him towards the door, which was now open.

He gestured for her to enter.

Go on. It’s what you’ve been waiting for.

She stepped into the hall.

He closed the door behind them.

40

THE HALLWAY SMELLED of air-freshener and furniture polish, as if it had been freshly cleaned that morning.

Hailey stood motionless for a moment, glancing around.

There was a staircase directly ahead of her. To her left, slightly ajar, was the door to the sitting room. To her right, another room. The door was tightly closed.

‘Would you like a coffee?’ said Walker, smiling.

Hailey nodded. She followed him through into the kitchen.

‘Sorry about the mess,’ he said as they entered a room to the rear of the house. ‘It seems almost obligatory for blokes who live on their own to have untidy houses, doesn’t it?’

‘I’ve seen worse.’ She smiled at him.

Apart from a couple of unwashed bowls in the sink, the kitchen was actually very neat.

He took some mugs from one of the wall cupboards and flicked on the electric kettle.

‘My own place can get pretty chaotic,’ she assured him, watching as he spooned coffee into the mugs.

‘Well, that’s understandable with you having a little child,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ she murmured.

Becky? Are you betraying her too?

Hailey crossed to the kitchen window and looked out onto the back garden. It stretched for a good seventy feet towards a high privet hedge that enclosed the lawn on three sides, effectively screening it from the neighbours on both sides.

The grass needed cutting.

‘Do you see much of your neighbours?’ she wanted to know.

He shook his head. ‘We nod at each other in the street.’ Walker smiled. ‘That’s about it.’

He filled the two mugs with hot water and set them on the kitchen table. They sat down opposite each other.

‘It’s a big house for one person,’ she commented.

‘I like my own company.’

‘That’s just as well.’

‘It wasn’t much different when my father lived here. I didn’t see that much of him.’ He sipped his coffee. ‘We didn’t have much to talk about.’

Hailey sensed that she should change the subject.

Walker was gazing past her, as if staring at something behind her that she couldn’t see.

‘What about your brother and sister?’ she asked. ‘They were here, weren’t they?’

He looked blank for a second.

‘Oh, right,’ he murmured. ‘It was still like being alone, though. We all kept ourselves to ourselves. They both moved out when they were eighteen: went to university. We don’t keep in touch. We’re not very close.’

‘Have you spoken to your mother since she left?’

He shook his head. ‘She could be dead for all I know,’ he muttered. ‘I’m not sure what I’d say to her after all these years. I suppose I might ask her why she left – if she knew how much pain she was causing.’

‘It must have been hard for you, Adam.’

He shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t be the only one it’s happened to, would I? I mean, marriages split up every day, don’t they?’

He looked straight into her eyes.

Hailey found it difficult to hold his gaze.

Yes. They break up every day. Over things like infidelity.

She sipped her coffee.

‘I used to wonder how my father felt when he discovered my mother had left him for another man,’ Walker