Touching the Dark Read online

  “Oh Lord, I’m sorry. I truly am. I didn’t mean...”

  She shook her head. “No. I know you didn’t but that doesn’t make it any better.”

  She turned her back on him muttering something about going to look for Nat. For a moment only Simon thought about trying to stop her, to try and explain or apologise but he figured he’d done enough harm for the one night. Instead he began to look for Tally, pushing his way through the crush of people to where she had been standing, trying to work out where she could have gone. He could have sworn he took his eyes off her only for a moment, but she was nowhere to be seen. He leaned back against the thick curtains of the window and swore softly to himself, cursing himself for the worst kind of fool.

  Then he spotted her, she was close to the door and wearing a full length coat, the beaded shawl flung loosely about her neck and flicked back over one shoulder.

  He shouted, but above the noise of the party she could not have heard him even if she’d a mind to. And then Simon saw that she was not alone. A man stood in the now open doorway, a raincoat around his shoulders, the thick black curls unmistakable even though he had his back to the room.

  “Jack,” Simon whispered. She had Jack with her.

  He began to struggle across the room, determined to have it out with Tally and with Jack. Challenge the bastard.

  But it was no good. By the time Simon had crossed the room the two of them were gone. He ran down into the street, but they were not to be seen. A heavy winter rain began to fall, cold on his shoulders and soaking his short cropped hair. Angry and hurt all over again, Simon went back inside.

  *

  Tally walked quickly wanting to get away from the emotions that had caused her so much pain when she had caught sight of Simon with that other woman. She had denied to herself that she was missing him. Told herself that someone like Simon would not be alone for long and that she didn’t care. Seeing him with someone else had been so hurtful that she didn’t know how to deal with it except to walk away.

  Beside her, Jack kept pace easily.

  “It’s been over two months, Tally, forget about him.” He grabbed her by the arm and swung her around to face him. “I can’t bear this and neither can you, I can see it in your face.”

  Angrily she jerked away from him and began to walk again, her feet in strappy party shoes frozen by the cold rain and her eyes hot with tears she did not want to shed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Simon sat outside of Tally’s apartment block for close on an hour before getting the courage to go inside. On his drive back from London and the twenty four hours or so that followed, Simon had holed up in his flat, dozing briefly, barely eating. Brooding about the night of the party and seeing Tally there. Mainly, Simon had spent his time putting together a theory that, if he didn’t push too hard, explained the mysterious Ms Palmer and her obsession with Jack.

  Jack, he had decided, was a sort of archetypal scapegoat. A graven image that Tally could use to blame for all the wrongs in her life. She had become so used to having this alter ego that she had finally lost her grip on how to take responsibility for her own life and actions. The going got too tough, Jack could be relied upon to throw in the proverbial spanner and Tally herself could back off pleading innocence and craving pity. The more he thought about it the more certain he was that there must be some long buried guilt on Tally’s conscience. Something that made her unable to face the consequences of her life without finding someone else to blame. That someone was named Jack Chalmers.

  It was a pretty cold analysis, Simon admitted, as well as being rather crude. The sort of thing that might be produced by the hosts of morning chat shows and late night confrontational debate, and he was well aware that it did not fit all of the known facts, but in the comfort of his flat, it was an idea that had grown and fed upon itself to the extent that he had convinced himself of its validity.

  But, he was beginning to realize, however neat and comfortable the theory might be, safe and untested inside of his own head, it was quite another trying to present it to the woman herself.

  He glanced out of the side window at Tally’s car. Her blue MX5 parked beside him in its usual spot had confirmed that she was home and encouraged him to get on with the task in hand now, today before he could change his mind again. He had parked up but then continued to sit in his car, the heat gradually leeching out through the badly fitting windows, trying to convince himself that she might have taken a walk and that he ought to wait until she returned. Or half hoping that she might look out of the window and see him there. Come down and save him the emotional trauma of ringing her bell and perhaps being denied entry.

  Neither of those things happened and the interior of the car was growing colder by the minute. Twice he had been forced to wipe the windscreen clear of condensation and people walking by him to go into the apartment block looked askance at this stranger in the beat up old Volvo with the steamed up windows who neither tried to go inside or prepared to drive away. Finally as it began to rain, Simon decided that he should bite the bullet, grasp the nettle and whatever other handy clichés came to mind and present himself at Tally’s door.

  To his surprise and profound relief she buzzed him in without comment and her apartment door was ajar when he climbed the stairs.

  He called her name as he pushed the door open cautiously. “All right to come in?”

  She was standing by the window dressed in old blue jeans and a crisp white shirt. Her feet were bare. Behind her, over the city, the rain clouds gathered, bursting down upon the streets.

  “I wanted to see you,” he began. Then paused lost for words as she said nothing. “I’ve missed you, Tally.”

  She regarded him without expression and then she turned away, stood gazing out of the window at the falling rain. “What did you come here for? Whatever it was you’d better say it and go. I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

  “If you feel like that, why did you let me in?” He crossed the room to where she stood with her back to him, moving close enough to feel the heat from her body and smell the lilac and rose of her perfume. “I want to help you Tally.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “Oh yes you do. You think you can go on this way, pushing away everyone who might care about you. Making up some wild excuse whenever someone gets too close for comfort and you might have to feel something back.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, I think I do.” He edged closer, warming to his task now. He had forgotten, made himself forget, just how intoxicating it could be standing this close to Tally Palmer. The clean scent of her hair, the subtle floral notes of her perfume, the warmth of her skin that made him think of sex and of their bodies moulded together in the half light of Tally’s room. “I want to help you Tally,” he said again. “I want to help you get rid of Jack forever, to break free of him and take control of your life again. You’ve got to be able to move on, Tally, whatever happened in the past that makes you think you need a scapegoat...”

  “A scapegoat?” She sounded bitterly amused.

  “Yes. I’ve got it figured out. That’s what Jack is to you. There are things in your life that you can’t deal with. That hurt too bad. I don’t know all of them, Tally and I don’t need to know, but Jack’s become your...your get out clause, it you like, The thing you take it out on when you can’t cope. If you blame Jack, you don’t have to take responsibility or...”

  He paused. Tally was laughing at him. Her shoulders shaking with mirth and when she finally turned towards him her face flushed with it.

  “Oh Simon,” she said between bursts of breathless laughter. “You don’t have a clue do you. You just don’t have a clue.”

  He was taken aback, the honest part of him admitting that she was right to laugh at his half-cocked ideas. That she’d have been well within her rights to do much more than laugh. The human part of him resentful that his offer to help her should be so abused.
/>   “I just want to help you, Tally,” he repeated and his voice sounded weak and plaintive even to his own ear. “Look,” he said, desperate to begin again, “I’ll help find someone to...a counsellor, a psychiatrist. Whatever you need...”

  She had stopped laughing and was staring at him incredulously. “You think that I’m the one needing help. Simon, have you take a look at yourself in the mirror lately? I’m not the one who has to come up with half backed explanations that don’t mean a thing. You know why I finished this. You know why I dumped you and it had fuck all to do with Jack. The reason was hanging on your arm at the party the other night.”

  “She means nothing to me Tally. Just a date for the evening. Nat...”

  She shook her head and moved so close to him that he could almost feel the rise and fall of her breasts beneath the white shirt. “Look at yourself, Simon. If anyone needs sorting out it’s you. What is it, can’t you take rejection. Do you think you’re so much God’s gift that no one in their right minds would say no to you. Get back to that little slag I saw you with that night. Is she the same one you were seeing that other time? She looks just about what you deserve. And now, get out of my life again and this time stay out.”

  Simon said nothing, though his body shook with anger and his chest ached as he struggled to control his breathing. He turned on his heel and walked away.

  *

  When Simon left Jack emerged from Tally’s bedroom.

  “Why did you let him in? You know I told you not to.” He paced restlessly for a while as though the very fact that Simon had been in that same room disturbed him. “Once, I once the centre of your universe” Jack reminded her. “You didn’t need the likes of him.”

  “You still are, Jack.”

  “So why have anything to do with him? Why have anything to do with any of them. You’ve got to admit, Tally, your track record when it comes to men isn’t that bright.” He turned to face her, ticking names off on his fingers. “First, there was Miles. Look what happened with that little shit. Then there was Adam. Tally Palmer’s first big romance, I don’t think.”

  “Don’t Jack, please.”

  “So perfect, wasn’t he? Then he goes out and gets pissed because he thinks it’s big, crashes his car and kills his best friend. Is that perfect, Tally. Is that what you wanted?”

  “Oh and then, of course, Jon O’Dowd. Big man, big ideas. Nearly got you all killed. What would have happened if I hadn’t been there? You’d have ended up like that poor sod you found bleeding to death in the alley. Hacked up and left to die. And then this one. Another frigging journalist for God’s sake.” He shook his head. “Don’t you ever learn?”

  “I thought I should hear what he had to say. How can that possibly hurt you?”

  “It hurts me. Anything that drives a wedge between us hurts me.”

  “Jack, sometimes I just need some space.”

  “Space! Tally, you and I are one soul, the one being, we don’t need space and we can’t give each other space. You belong to me Tally, and I won’t tolerate any stupid little upstart that wants to come along and take you away.”

  He grabbed her by the arms and held tight, fingers sinking into the muscle. “I will never let go of you, Tally, never, ever. You should have learnt that by now. Death do us part and then some.”

  “If I died Jack, you wouldn’t exist anymore,”

  “You sure of that? How do you know? I might just go on and on and on”

  Tally shook her head of vehemently. “You said it yourself Jack, one soul, one being you can’t exist without me.”

  She pulled away sharply and turned her back on him. “I’ve sent him away are you happy now?”

  “Yes, I’m happy and so will you be. Forget him Tally, he only wanted what you could give him, he didn’t want you the person, he wanted you, the icon, and sooner or later you’ll realise that. He’s a user just like all the rest. He’ll dig and dig and dig until he gets to what he thinks is the heart of you and then the sell it to the highest bidder. I’m the only one that you can rely on, Tally you know that. I’ve always been there and I always will be there.” He paused and reached out to her again and this time his hands were gentle and his voice softer. “I’ve always looked after you. I want you Tally, I came back to be with you, you can’t have what we’ve had and then cast it aside when you’ve had enough.”

  Tally shook her head, “I love you Jack, but sometimes I need more. You demand a commitment I find it hard to give. Sometimes there’s nothing left for me.”

  “I am you,” Jack said softly. “What else is there?”

  *

  Needing to talk to someone, Simon phoned Nat Sullivan. He got short shrift.

  “Can you really blame her,” Nat asked him. “I mean you go in there and accuse her of being totally nuts, can you really expect her to react any other way.”

  Simon shrugged, embarrassed. “I made a right fool of myself, didn’t I?”

  “I would say so, yes. Let it go Simon. The lady’s given you the brush off, the best thing you can do it is behave like a gentlemen and take the hint.”

  “It’s not that easy. Tally is not the kind of woman you get over just like that.”

  “Are you going to tell Claire that? You’re not really been fair to her either you know.”

  Simon sighed, “I know that but what can I do?”

  “Make a decision,” Nat told him. “And you know as well as I do what that has to be.”

  “I can’t. Tally’s in trouble and I have to help her.”

  “What makes you think that she’s in trouble? This talk of Jack sounds more like a wind up to me. And so, you keep digging. She won’t to thank you for it. Look, man, she is managing well enough without your help what makes you think you can make a difference what makes you think she even wants to change she’s happy and she’s successful she doesn’t need you. What problem does she have that you think you have to solve anyway?”

  “No. No I don’t believe that she is “managing”, as you put it there are things going on in Tally’s head that I don’t begin to understand. Things happening in Tally’s life that don’t make sense. She needs help whether she likes it or not you must see that.”

  “I don’t see it Simon. What I see is a man obsessed. Someone who’s been rejected and can’t take it. Do as she says and get out of her life, get on with your own, it won’t do at any one any good to keep this pursuit going. Look Simon, you’re right at the beginning of what should be a great career. You’re talented you’re dedicated, don’t let this crush spoil it.”

  “Crush! You make me sound like I was 12 years old.”

  “Right now you’re acting like that. Look, Simon, I like you; I think you’re worth more than this. Get a life of your own, don’t keep trying to live through this other woman. I can’t stop you, but I will tell you this, I’ve seen careers go down the tubes for much less cause. You talk about Tally been obsessed, I think you’re the one with the obsession problem. Obsession is fine in its own place but this isn’t the place for it.”

  Simon knew that the advice was good but also that he wouldn’t be taking it. Tally had got under his skin in a way he could not explain, there were too many unanswered questions and he could not leave them alone.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Simon had left Tally’s flat it had been half past six, the early evening rush hour not yet over and the streets crowded with commuters. He left his car where it was and walked swiftly, taking little notice of where he was going, intent only on finding somewhere he could get well and truly drunk.

  About a half mile from Tally’s home was a converted church, now a trendy bar, popular with students and the legal professionals that worked at the courthouse not far from the university. Simon knew it well. It was dimly lit and anonymous and, better yet, he had never been in there with Tally. He found a seat high up in the gallery bar, close against the wrought iron railing that afforded a most dizzying view of the restaurant below and he proceeded to drink himself
stupid, as though that could purge Tally’s words, Tally’s scent, the very look of her from his mind.

  Her accusations about Clare had cut him to the quick, the more so because, whatever excuses he could make – and he had designed for himself a fair few in the past weeks – he could not wholly rid himself of the knowledge that he had behaved abominably in that one regard.

  He finished his first shot of bourbon and the second, was taking his third more slowly before he allowed his mind to roam back to the subject of Tally Palmer once more...and where there was Tally, in the background like a demonic shadow, there was always Jack.

  When Simon had asked why he had never been introduced to Jack, Tally just laughed. Have I met all of your friends yet? She had asked him and at the time, only, to be fair, twelve weeks into their relationship it had seemed a reasonable comment. But Simon could not be satisfied with it.

  For one thing, Tally had met a great many of Simon’s friends, and his family and, anyhow, it was more the way that she talked about Jack that bothered Simon. To be truthful, Tally mentioned Jack rarely – she mentioned friends rarely – but Simon was beginning to get the feeling that Jack had been around at practically every significant event in Tally’s life and that had him wondering.

  Who was Jack and why hadn’t he got to meet such an important friend?

  One night they had watched a documentary together. It was about a place called Mamolo in Somalia or Sudan or somewhere, if he remembered right and Simon recalled the news reports that Jon O’Dowd had sent back from there. He knew Tally had been with him.

  Simon recalled her mood on that night, the two of them lounging on Tally’s bed, watching on the little portable she kept tucked away in a discreet maple wood cupboard in the corner of her bedroom. She had watched in silence, drifting away into her own thoughts. Knowing that the memory of Jon O’Dowd and all that related to him must still be fresh and raw in Tally’s mind, Simon had at first been reluctant to speak and break her silence.