Lukes voice reached her from the bedroom. Sara wore nothing but a towel and a camera. She tested that the prefabs door was locked and pulled the curtains to.
Im certain I heard her voice.
She returned to the bedroom.
Luke lay on his bed like a tanned sea lion. A beach-master. The bed was old and squeaky. It dipped under his weight. He could feel its springs teasing his spine through the mattress. He still wore his little, plastic hospital wristband. Like a baby, Sara thought fondly, taking hold of his hand. She read it out loud.
Luke Hamsun.
Thats me. He beamed. Glad to be alive.
Hamsun. Like handsome but back to front.
Norwegian.
Truly?
He nodded.
Sara sat on the edge of the bed. So they think youve passed it?
Luke looked pained. The stone? Yes. They said it mustve been quite a small one. They usually disintegrate of their own accord.
She held his hand and inspected his fingernails. Luke shifted.
Dont be embarrassed, she smiled, Im a farmer. Im perfectly accustomed to this kind of thing.
Gallstones?
My father suffered from them. This was way before they had lasers and all the technology they have now. He had his cut out and was given them after in a jar. One was as big as my fist. But I was only a child then, obviously.
A fist?
Luke blanched.
Yours was probably only the size of a seed.
A seed.
He liked this idea. Seeds were invariably clean and perfectly inoffensive.
But Sara was not thinking of seeds. Her mind had turned back a reel. Back to what shed said before, about being a farmer. Previously shed always thought of herself as a farmers wife. Previously? Previous to what? To fucking? Her insides curled.
Luke unlooped the camera from around Saras neck and placed it against his eye. She was a real honey. She smiled but quickly turned her face away. Her fingers grasped the top of her towel and gave it a modest yank upwards.
Lukes own fingers moved automatically. As Sara turned, the camera clicked. A shot, taken. But hed neglected to switch on the flash. He swore and stared at the camera, utterly bemused.
Jim walked slowly along the beach. He hadnt begun walking until hed seen a wave touch the first of Connies garments. He hadnt moved until her beige trousers had been lifted on to the swell, spat out, lifted again.
She was in quite deep now, a doughty swimmer. Over the final few yards he broke into a trot. The trousers were lost from view. Something else turquoise floated in the shallower waves, and something paler, a scrap, her knickers, floated alongside.
He pulled off his shoes, tossed Connies sandals higher up the beach as a precaution and then waded into the water to retrieve the blue item. Shirt. His jeans got wet. He went in a few steps deeper for the scrap, then looked around for the trousers. No sign of them. He waded, hopelessly, and became so engrossed in his close inspection of the ocean bed that he didnt hear her come up behind him.
Jesus, she muttered, how stupid!
Jim was soaked to his thighs. He didnt turn at first, but stared at her reflection in the water where it glistened whitely like a slither of coral. She was almost purple and exotically orange-speckled with the cold. Her arms were crossed over her chest, but she seemed uninhibited. He could tell that she came from another planet. A world where bodies werent shameful things. Somewhere nice and kind and open. How would that be?
Did I lose my trousers?
Connie put out her hand for the shirt. He passed it to her and she tried to wring it out, then pulled it on, but with difficulty. The wet fabric clung to her and was tricky to manipulate.
I cant see them, Jim said. He was suprised by his own voice. I think they were washed away first.
He took a step backwards, still holding her g-string. She reached out her hand for it. He looked down. Oh, then passed it to her. She squeezed the water from it and then stuck it in her shirts pocket before pulling down the hem and turning to wade for the shore.
Youre soaking, she observed, kicking water out in front of her.
It doesnt matter. I only live there. Jim pointed to the prefab.
You only live there?
He thought she was mocking him and frowned. She hadnt meant to mock at all. She noticed his frown. He was serious. And odd-looking. Pale and hunched but with eyes like peanut brittle. You must be one of Lilys friends, she said kindly. Jim paused, considered this statement, rebelled internally but still said, Yes.
Well, Im Connie. A distant relative. Of hers, I mean.
Connie held out her hand to Jim. For an instant he pretended that he hadnt seen it, but she continued to hold it there, outstretched, up to her ankles in the swell. So he took it.
Like a fish, he muttered. It slipped out.
Connie smiled. What was that?
The waters cold.
Jim walked on. Connie followed. A fish?
She was grinning. He didnt answer. He had noticed how bruised her knees were. It seemed a particularly babyish injury.
I dont suppose youd have a towel I could borrow?
Jim picked up his trainers. Connie picked up her sandals. He radiated indifference. She persisted. Its just that Lily will probably disown me if I have to walk all the way home like this.
She glanced up the beach to where Lily was sitting. Jim glanced too, scowling.
What are they doing? Connie asked.
Jim shrugged. I wouldnt know.
He began walking towards his prefab, hoping that she wouldnt follow, but she did.
It must be amazing living here, she said.
Amazing.
Did you say what your name was before?
He stopped walking, turned. Im Jim.
And you have alopecia, Jim?
He stared at her, stunned.
Im sorry, she said, feeling awful, that sounded very rude.
She regretted her own nauseating self-assurance.
If you wait here for a moment Ill go and fetch you a towel.
Jim withdrew into the prefab. She didnt dare follow. Instead she walked on further, to the front of Lukes prefab, where she peered in through the window. She couldnt see in beyond the nets. She walked back on herself and then, at a whim, down in between the two buildings. On her right side, above her head, was a small kitchen window, but too high to peek into. A few feet in front of her was another much lower one.
Connie took a couple of steps forward and then paused. This window was slightly ajar. Its nets billowed out. She had not considered that the prefab might be inhabited. It was definitely out of season.
She hesitated and would have turned back when the nets billowed again, higher this time and she saw right inside, into a bedroom, sparsely furnished. And two people. A man on a bed, laughing, and a woman nearby, facing Connie, almost, but holding a camera to her eye, taking a photo of the man and his large, erect penis which he held in his hand like a bunch of flowers.
The camera flashed. Connie blinked. The woman lowered the camera, and then the nets, on cue, billowed back in again, but not before the woman saw her. She was seen.
Oh shit, Connie turned on her heel. She ran out from between the two buildings.
Jim stood in front of his prefab clutching a towel. He looked at her. She put her hand to her mouth and spoke through her fingers.
Ive just done something so embarrassing
He was not particularly interested. He offered her the towel, saying nothing.
The people next door She pointed.
Its empty, Jim said, still offering her the towel.
No, she took the towel from him, shaking her head, whispering almost, it isnt empty.
Connie grabbed hold of Jims arm and pulled him sideways, into his own prefab, shut the door behind her and then tied the towel around her waist. His arm had felt warm. She was freezing.
Theres a man next door. Fat, well tanned. And a woman. My aunt.
Jims eyes widened. He hadnt been aware of Lukes return.
Connie bit her lip. When I say my aunt I mean Lilys mother, Sara. I just met her for the first time this morning. She said she was going to get netting from a local farmThey were naked. Im certain she saw me.
And so? Jim was unshakeable. He did not care.
But how will I face her? And Lily?
Jim shrugged.
Should I just pretend it didnt happen?
He shrugged again. Thats up to you.
Do you think Lily knows?
He shook his head. Thats none of my business.
Yes.
Connie calmed down slightly. She looked around the room. Do you live here alone?
Why?
I dont know. Ive got sand on your floor. Do you have a broom?
It doesnt matter.
She paused. God!
She stared at him.
What? Jim hated being stared at. He always felt ugly inside other peoples eyes.
Nothing, Connie blinked, you just reminded me of someone.
She turned and took hold of the door handle. She was suddenly tearful. Im sorry. I dont know whats wrong with me. Its just that my dad
Her throat contracted. She coughed. Her cheeks were bright. She was burning. Ill return your towel as soon as I can.
Her eyes were scorching.
Keep it.
She was gone, though, before hed finished speaking.
Twenty-Nine
Margery noticed the change.
I phoned earlier, she said, glancing at him over a glass of icy vodka, but you were out.
Really?
Nathan wiped the foam off his top lip with the inside of his wrist. It was a disarming little movement, but she was not disarmed.
So where were you?
I was at an art gallery.
Really?
Yes. The National.
Margery stared at him. They were in a pub. It was quite empty.
I didnt know you made a habit of going to art galleries.
Nathan cleared his throat. I dont. It was just a fancy. I went straight from work.
Margery continued to stare. There was a liveliness in Nathans face which she had no recollection of ever noticing before. A glint. A fervour. He seemed less transparent, more translucent. She felt a vague moments unease at her sudden inability to see straight through him. It had been a knack. A gift. Had she lost it? Was it gone? Was it merely mislaid?
Or was it him. Was it Nathan? She crossed her arms. Nathan idly watched the cleft at the top of her breasts deepen as her flesh blossomed out under the pressure of her wrists.
So what did you see?
She meant business.
Uh he frowned slightly, as if it was difficult for him to recollect, the newest wing. Sainsburys.
Modern pictures?
No. Quite old ones.
Margery smiled, willing him to change his story. Were you really there?
He smiled right back. Yes. Of course I was.
But when he smiled his eyes were blank, were filmed. Because suddenly he did not see Margery at the other side of the table. Instead, in her place, he saw a delicious little angel, just glowing, just dangling.