Warhol's Prophecy

‘HE HURT YOU, so I hurt him.’

David Layton sat back on the sofa, gazing at the television set. He took a swig from the can of Special Brew he held.

Sandy Bennett looked at him, her face expressionless.

‘I thought you would have thanked me,’ Layton continued.

‘What exactly did you do?’ she wanted to know.

‘I taught him not to fuck around with my sister,’ Layton said.

Sandy switched the TV off.

‘I was watching that,’ Layton proclaimed with mock indignation.

‘I want to know what you did,’ she repeated.

‘What’s your fucking problem? This bastard Gibson had been messing you around. You said that yourself. He sacked you. You loved him, Sandy, and he took advantage of you. You told me that.’

He drained what was left in the can and crushed it in his fist.

‘What am I supposed to do?’ he continued. ‘Sit around like a cunt while somebody makes my sister look like an idiot?’ He shook his head. ‘No way. He got what was coming to him. He’s lucky he didn’t get it worse.’

‘How long has this been going on?’ she demanded.

He shrugged. ‘A couple of weeks, on and off.’

‘And what exactly did you do?’

‘I frightened him a bit, that’s all. Played a couple of little tricks on him.’ Layton smiled crookedly. ‘I wasn’t going to sit back and see you used, Sandy. I know you: you would have let him get away with it. He fucks around with you, gets fed up, and goes running back to his wife and kid. Now he knows he can’t get away with it.’

Sandy ran a hand through her hair and glared at her brother.

‘How badly is he hurt?’ she wanted to know.

‘Does it matter?’

‘Yes, it matters,’ she rasped.

‘We put him in hospital.’

‘We?’

‘Russell Poole helped me. He owed me a favour, and he seems to enjoy things like that.’ Again that twisted smile.

‘I don’t believe this,’ Sandy said quietly. ‘You could have killed him.’

‘He’s lucky we didn’t. Like I said, it’ll teach him not to fuck around with you again.’

‘Am I supposed to thank you for this, Dave?’ she snapped.

He looked blankly at her.

‘I told you that it was over between Rob and me – that he’d sacked me.’

‘You said you loved him.’

‘Perhaps I did. But I didn’t ask you to start some sort of bloody vendetta against him. I didn’t ask you to put him in hospital. Jesus Christ, if the police find out it’s you, you’ll be back inside again.’

‘Let me worry about that. Besides, they won’t find out, will they? The only two people who know what’s happened are Russell and you. And Russell’s not going to open his mouth.’ He looked accusingly at her. ‘The only one who can grass me up now is you. But why would you want to do that? I did you a favour. What are brothers for, eh?’ He chuckled.

‘I never wanted this,’ she said quietly.

‘Well, you got it. Perhaps you should be thanking me.’ Layton got to his feet and took a step towards her. ‘And I’ll tell you something else: if he ever comes near you again, I will kill him. Him, his wife and his fucking kid.’

87

HAILEY SQUEEZED ROB’S hand and looked into his face.

The worst of the swelling had receded. There was still puffiness around his eyes, but now he was able to open them both with relative ease, although blackened by bruises too. Several blood vessels in the right eye had been ruptured during the attack, and a crimson mark stood out vividly against the surrounding white.

The intravenous drips had also been removed. On the whole the doctors had expressed delight, and also surprise, at the speed of Rob’s recovery. However, he was all too conscious of the cuts and bruises that still crisscrossed his face and upper body.

There were several bunches of flowers in the room, including a small bouquet of lilies that bore the note: HOPE YOU ARE FEELING BETTER, DAD, LOVE BECKY.

There was also one from Jim Marsh: a large bunch of white carnations.

A smaller arrangement of mixed blooms had arrived from Frank Burnside. There were Get Well Soon cards too.

Hailey hadn’t told too many people what had happened to her husband, but those she had informed seemed to have responded with some gesture of concern.

Hailey herself kissed his hand, noticing the bruises on his knuckles and wrist.

‘The doctors said you must be pretty strong to recover so quickly,’ she said.

‘I don’t feel very strong,’ said Rob, shifting position slightly, wincing in pain. ‘These bloody ribs are killing me.’

‘It’s going to take time, Rob. You were hurt badly.’

‘Tell me about it,’ he said sardonically.

There was an awkward silence broken by Hailey.

‘You are coming home when they release you, aren’t you?’ she wanted to know.

He tried to take a deep breath, but the pain from his broken ribs prevented even that simple action.

‘Rob?’ she persisted.

‘I suppose I was unlucky,’ he said. ‘Storming out and leaving you was supposed to create more of an impact. Now I’m going to need your help just to get in and out of a fucking chair.’

‘Would you really have left us?’ she wanted to know. ‘Permanently, I mean?’

‘I needed time to think things through. I still do – but I suppose what you said was right. I wasn’t in any position to preach to you about having affairs, was I?’

She opened her mouth to say something. She was going to remind him that what had gone on between her and Walker wasn’t an affair. In the end she said nothing.

‘I suppose we’re even now,’ said Rob sadly.

‘That isn’t how it was supposed to be.’

‘No, but that’s the way it is.’

Hailey glanced at her watch. ‘I’d better go,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘Becky will be worried.’

‘Give her my love.’

‘You can give it to her yourself when you come home.’

‘If I don’t frighten her too much.’ He touched a hand to his battered face.

Hailey leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead and lips.

‘I love you, Rob,’ she whispered.

‘I know,’ he said, squeezing her hand.

She picked up her handbag and headed for the door. As she reached it, she looked back at him and smiled.

He returned the smile.

Then she was gone.

88

9.26 P.M.

He was sleeping when Sandy Bennett entered the room.