“What about my clothes?”
Mr X gestured with his chin at the chauffeur. “My friend here will take care of that.”
With a nervous glance at the hulking figure, Julian reluctantly shook Mr X’s hand. His handshake was warm, damp, repulsively tender. His gaze flicked down to the videotape. “Just to make sure we understand each other, Julian. That’s for you and your parents’ eyes only. If it was to find its way into anyone else’s hands, the consequences would be, well, very possibly fatal.” Shuddering, Julian pulled his hand away. As he turned to leave, Mr X piped up, “Oh, I almost forgot to say, welcome to The Society of Dirty Hearts.” His lips curled into a horribly triumphant smile. “We’re proud to have you as a member.”
Chapter 22
The chauffeur led Julian to a bathroom where his clothes were folded on a chair. When Julian reached for them, the chauffeur shook his head and pointed to the shower. Julian stepped into the cubicle and turned on the water. The chauffeur watched through the glass as he washed away every external trace of whatever had happened in the bedroom.
After towelling himself dry and dressing, Julian followed the chauffeur down a flight of stairs. The same red carpeting ran all the way through the house. Apart from that the house’s interior was fairly nondescript — unadorned white walls, flat panelled doors, no furniture. The exterior was equally unremarkable. It was a large, square, brick house with a flat roof, the only unusual feature being that its downstairs windows were high enough above the ground to prevent anyone looking in — as if the isolated location wasn’t private enough in itself for the purposes of what went on within. There was a time when those windows would’ve appealed to Julian, but not anymore. Now they just seemed sinister. A broad lawned area surrounded the house, rising to some dense shrubbery, split by the driveway. Julian’s car was parked beside the Merc in front of the house. The chauffeur mutely handed Julian his keys and, to his surprise, the survival knife. He approached his car, his step faltering as he spotted the dog sat on the lawn a short distance away. It sprang into motion suddenly, the muscles on its flanks rippling as it raced across to him with long, loping strides. He glanced back to see if it was responding to some signal from the chauffeur, but the hulking figure remained as impassive as ever. He broke into a limping run. The dog reached him as he opened the car door. He tensed, expecting to feel its teeth sink into his flesh again, but all it did was press its nose against his bandaged ankle, sniffing.
As Julian drove away, a pain far worse than any the dog could’ve inflicted ate at his mind — the pain of knowing about his dad and of not knowing about Mia. And a burning sense of guilt filled his heart, scorching away the last vestiges of unreality, leaving behind something that seemed to him too dirty ever to be made clean.
The morning sun peeped over the heads of the trees, dappling the road with shadows, as Julian neared town. Panic drained through him at the thought of confronting his dad, but he didn’t hesitate. The stomach-churning images he’d seen kept replaying in his mind, propelling him onwards. They made him feel like thousands of insects were crawling over his skin. He tried to banish the sensation by opening the window, letting air rush over him. A bad smell hit his nostrils. He closed the window, but it made no difference. The smell seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, almost gag-inducing. He glanced at the suburban houses, wondering how many of them were inhabited by Mr X’s ‘decent, honest people’. All of them and none of them, came his mind’s embittered reply. Lies everywhere. Nothing but stinking, rotten lies.
When Julian pulled up outside his parents’ house, he sat gripping the steering-wheel. Seconds passed, minutes. He couldn’t bring himself to get out of the car, couldn’t even bring himself to look at the house. He stared at the garden — its manicured lawns, its well-pruned shrubs and well-weeded flower beds. He looked at the forest beyond, pressing close to the fence, the trees digging their roots under it, the ivy creeping over it. How long, he wondered, would it take for the forest to reclaim the garden if there was no one to care for it? How long would it take for a lifetime’s labour and love to be obliterated? Ten years? Twenty? Not even the blink of an eye on an evolutionary timescale.
“Not even the blink of an eye,” he murmured, tears pinching the corners of his eyes.
Julian jerked around at a knock on the passenger-door window. His dad’s smiling face was peering through the glass at him. He was ready for work, his hair neatly combed, his face closely shaven. His eyes were full of anticipation and hope. For the first time in a long time he looked truly happy. Julian hated him suddenly. Hated him with every cell of his body. He felt like springing out of the car, grabbing a fistful of his throat and demanding to know, how the fuck can you smile when your daughter’s missing?
Julian lowered the window and Robert said, “Where’ve you been all night?” Before Julian could reply, speaking fast and excitedly, he went on, “Never mind. Great news, Jules. The buyer decided to go with us. He’s put in an order that’s even bigger than I’d hoped for. Big enough not only to keep us afloat, but to make us profitable again.”
“Great news,” agreed Julian, his voice flat, hollow.
Robert didn’t appear to notice. “You’d better hurry and get changed for work. It’s going to be a busy day.”
“I’m not going-”
Robert spoke over Julian. “We’ve got a hell of a lot to do if we’re going to get this order out on time. We need to contact our suppliers and order extra, well, extra everything. We need to talk to the staff, find out who’s willing to work overtime. We might even need to look into taking on some new-”
“Shut the fuck up!” The words burst out of Julian like bullets. Robert stared at him, wide-eyed, mouth hanging open. Anger pulsing behind his eyes, Julian said, “I know, Dad.”
“Know what?”
“Everything.” Julian stabbed his finger at the videotape on the front-passenger seat. “I know everything.”
Robert looked at the tape. ‘Robert Harris. 14/9/94’ was written on it. He screwed his eyes shut and opened them, blinking as if unsure where he was. An expression of sudden, sick clarity settled on his face. He clutched the window-frame as if for support, head sagging. His mouth worked soundlessly a moment, before he managed to say, “How?”
“Mr X gave it to me.”
Robert lifted a stunned, bewildered face to Julian. “Why?”
“He says you’re all used up, squeezed dry.”
“But I paid him.” Anger flashed in Robert’s eyes. He drove the heel of his hand into the car door with enough force to dent it. “I fucking paid him! I fucking…” His voice trailing off, he stared as if dead at the ground for half-a- minute, before murmuring, “I always knew this day would come. I’ve been waiting for it for fifteen years.”
“How could you do such a thing?”
“It was just one time. I let it get the better of me one time. I’ve hated myself for it ever since.”
“Liar! If you hated yourself for it, why did you abandon your children?” As Robert jerked his gaze up in horrified astonishment, Julian continued, “That’s right, I know about Mia and Jake. I told you, I know everything.”
“Did he tell you about them?” Robert said the word ‘he’ with trembling hate in his voice.
“No. I worked that one out all by myself. How could you do it to them? How could you let them grow up like that?”
“I did it for you and your mother.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Julian spoke through clenched teeth. “Don’t you dare try to use us as an excuse.”
“What else was I supposed to do? I would’ve lost everything over two children I couldn’t even be sure were mine.”
“You fucking weasel!” The force of Julian’s words took even him by surprise. “You knew. You fucking knew they were yours!”
“Please, Julian, try to understand. I worked so hard for what I had. I couldn’t just throw that away.” Robert gave a hopeless shake of his head. “But how can you understand? You’ve never known a day’s want in all your life.”
