Judge Savage Page 11

  Then Twins started again. Martin raised a hand. Rachel’s husband, who was West Indian, was arguing with a doctor in an old people’s home. His father was not being properly treated. The man’s a saint, Martin chuckled. Have a biscuit. Turns down the sexy sister, looks after his dad. Positive role model for black men in world of fickle whites. Slick reversal of the old take. But when the actor climbed into his car and for a moment the camera panned across some futuristic cityscape, Martin said musingly, I can’t see though, Dan, why you always blame others rather than yourself. Perhaps it’s a sort of judging bug. Obviously Sarah’s upset to think that the dad who’s sticking people in gaol is also cheating on her beloved mum, no? It’s obvious. She reads it as hypocrisy.

  As had happened in the pub, Daniel noticed, the opportunity to criticise seemed to return Martin to himself. For a moment he pulled himself away from the TV. Their relationship meshed again. Now she’s determined to punish you, his friend was explaining, on behalf of her mother. She hates her mother, Daniel said. Rubbish, Martin laughed. No really, Mart, she gets on far better with me. She’s going through her Oedipal phase, or whatever it is with girls. She even plays footsie with me, despite being terribly Christian. It’s embarrassing. Came to watch me in court today, the Mishra summing up, don’t know if you’ve heard of the case.

  Martin shook his head. Last time I saw Sarah and Hilary they were the best of friends, he said. They came over two or three times when you were playing bachelor in the hotel there. Last year. They were perfectly happy then, laughing and joking. They played tennis, then took a dip in the pool. I distinctly remember. The girl no doubt hates you for what you did to her Mum. Daniel was confused. He shut his eyes. What would he say to Ben? At least I have the twenty thousand, he told himself. Maybe you’re right, he said vaguely. I don’t know. Anyway, Sarah went off to Rome today, so that’s one thing out of the way. He tried to laugh. Her boyfriend took her to the airport. Martin’s eye was drifting back to the screen. Any chance of seeing you in court? Daniel threw in quickly. Be fun to be sitting when you lose a case or two. Martin wouldn’t reply. Daniel waited, then in a sudden frustration he demanded: For Christ’s sake, Mart, what’s up? You offer me pretty sharp criticism about my life while you go on behaving like an idiot, stewing in bed over soaps. What in God’s name’s going on? You’ve got Christine downstairs going completely crazy. Her whole life’s hung on you. And even the dumbest hearings are twice as interesting as any television show. For some reason Daniel felt furious. He stood up, grabbed the remote from the bed cover and switched the set off.

  Martin scratched at his beard. He swung his legs out of bed, walked a little stiffly across the room and turned the TV on directly from the set. He selected the channel. As the screen popped into its mimicked life, a woman in church was trying to decide whether to enter the confessional. You don’t understand, he said flatly when he was back in the bed. And because you don’t understand you get angry. He smiled at the corners of his mouth, with a condescending, falsified expression. Actually everybody’s getting angry with me. He turned back to the screen. Even Jane came and gave me a good talking to yesterday. Yes, your beloved Jane. Perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Back for a week or two.

  Then nodding to the set, Martin remarked, Rachel tried to confess a couple of programmes back, about this computer rep, but ended up just saying she’d smacked their daughter too hard. Come back to court, Daniel told him, before it’s too late. In a toneless voice, Martin said: Anything I can do, others can do just as well. Then his face lit up. Speaking of which, you know they even managed to substitute one of the actors on this show instead of having them die or leave like they usually do. Just introduced a different actor one day playing the same guy. But really different. Tall instead of small sort of thing. They made a sort of joke out of it, everybody saying how much he’d changed. Wonderful touch. Daniel was silent. Anybody can do what I do, Martin repeated. There is no need for my presence. When the man talked about himself, the life went out of his voice. The eagerness was replaced by a dull solemnity. Standing up, Daniel demanded: But what if that wasn’t the case, Mart? You know? What if there were some huge moral issue, that only Martin Shields could solve? What then? Dream on, his friend said quietly. He wouldn’t take his eyes from the screen.

  Take me into town, Christine begged at the bottom of the stairs. She had changed into a dress, put on some make-up. Please! Her voice was squeaky. Daniel explained that he had an appointment. He had to meet a bloke in town. In fact it was already beginning to look rather tight. Cancel, she told him. He noticed the perfume now. Had the mention of Jane affected him? Take me into town before I kill that man. She gestured upstairs, then giggled. I need a drink, preferably in male company. For some reason Daniel remembered then that Christine was Sarah’s godmother. She had even taught the girl in Sunday school at some point. He hesitated. Is it an important appointment? his friend’s wife insisted. You look worried, Dan. Her tone was maternal. He asked, can I make a call?

  The sitting room was a default setting of old English elegance. Green upholstery, floral curtains, antique furniture. What did the Shields do of an evening, Daniel wondered? The place looked unlived in. He sat at a polished desk littered with dusty photos. Warehouse, please, he asked. He couldn’t imagine a childless marriage. We’re closed, sir, said the voice. Again a catarrh case. Can you try it, please. I’m a friend. Who’s speaking, sir? Steve, he said. I’m sorry, sir? Steve, he repeated more loudly. Concentrating, he saw the photos were all of moths. He was tense. Blurred creatures right up against the lens. There seemed no point. Soaps and moths. Ben, he asked? He doesn’t kill them, Christine had explained, so they’re never still when he clicks the shutter. Ben, look, yes, I’m sorry but something’s come up, I can’t make it this evening. The pictures were unfocused, as if the things had just flown into your face. Let’s meet tomorrow. Okay? You almost felt the eyelids flicker shut in self-defence. Daniel stared at them. Good.

  Immediately afterwards he called Hilary. Christine was hovering at the door. It was a light, summery dress she’d found, pleasantly airy about the knees, charmingly girlish. They’ve given us the dough. Yes! In his lowest voice he said he’d have to stay the evening to understand what on earth was happening with these two, their old friends, and whether they were going to pay the rest on time or not. Tom’s clamouring for you to go and watch his six-a-side, Hilary said. It’s too bad, he agreed. Tell him it’s a crisis. And everybody’s been phoning about the summing up. Oh really? Judge Savage wished he was home, but he could hardly back down now. I’ll be back around nine-thirty, ten. Has Sarah phoned? She hadn’t.

  Her whole life had been a mistake! Rrruhh! Christine clenched her fist till it shook. She pushed the hand into her hair, then held her head in taut fingers, looking down at the table. She had been explaining that she and Martin hadn’t had sex in years, three years. She looked up. I think it’s three. She sat like a girl knees wide apart in her skirt jerking nervously. Cigarette? Daniel declined. There was a fracas at the porch; a large party had changed its mind and chosen to leave before all its members were properly inside. There was a confused back and forth at the door. And just, Christine was telling him indignantly, just when I thought I might slip in a baby at the last minute, you know? people do, at that very moment, can you believe it, he stops wanting it altogether. Libido, gone. We don’t have sex at all.

  There were tears in her eyes. Daniel half smiled. Having been through them himself, he was weary of these intense emotions. I’m sorry Christine, he said, I’m not being a good listener. Let’s eat.

  She came back with menus from the bar, a second pint he hadn’t asked for, a second gin for herself. Why didn’t I go and see Ben? Daniel looked at his watch. The chicken, he said. She went back to order. There are so many worries when you have children, he told her as she pulled her chair up, played with the ice in her gin. Sarah’s quite impossible. You know the day of her history A level she decided she wouldn’t go. Didn’t want to
do the exam. I almost had to drag her there. Then she made me stop on the way for this most awful tête-à-tête, I’d said something wrong, I don’t know. It’s incredible with kids how you can say something wrong without having any idea what it was. I still don’t know. They live in a different world. Anyway, she was howling and screaming. I had to slap her round the face – I’d’ve been arrested in Sweden, here too before too long – then we hugged of course, and all the time I’m worried stiff she’s going to be late for her exam. He shook his head. So perhaps, you know, you might actually be better off without in a way. No, I don’t mean that. He drank some beer. I was just thinking, right now the thing to do surely is to concentrate your mind on Martin, on getting him out of this state. Has he seen a specialist?

  Christine leaned forward across the table. She kept picking out a pendant that hung in her cleavage. A little silver cross. She fished it out, then let it drop down there again between the full breasts. Now, as she pushed her face toward him across the drinks, it swung forward. Is that why you started cheating on Hilary, she asked with soft intensity? What? He was surprised. This frustration, Dan, the other person being unhappy on purpose and not telling you why. So far not a single word, not a single bloody word to say why he’s doing all this. Endless silences, days in bed. He’s doing it on purpose. It’s infantile. It’s cruel! Her voice too, Daniel thought, was oddly infantile; she had the squeaky indignation of the little girl. And there’s something of that in Hilary, isn’t there? Christine said, sitting back. I remember you telling me. You remember that night? She’s always been famous for her depressions. She was giving you hell, wasn’t she, sitting in corners refusing to speak to people. They punish us with their depressions, Dan!

  Oh, Hilary’s fine, Daniel said. He didn’t want this. People have their moments. No, the affair thing was just that I got infatuated, you know. He tried to be offhand. Pretty banal choice, Christine was objecting: strawberry blonde in the same chambers, fifteen years younger, all legs, tits and bottom. She seemed almost peeved. No, she insisted, I’m sure it was more to do with how things were at home, Dan. Otherwise – she sat back brightly – it would be unforgivable, wouldn’t it! To have an affair when you were happy at home.

  Daniel wouldn’t reply. He tried to keep some sort of smile on his face. Marriage is how you describe it, he had decided. He wouldn’t speak ill of Hilary. She dropped by yesterday, you know, Christine went on. Jane, I mean. I suppose Mart told you. Looking fabulously coltish of course. And of course I sent her straight upstairs in the hope the sight of all that prettiness might wake up Rip Van Winkle. I’ve been calling him Rip Van Winkle. You don’t believe me, she urged, suddenly assuming a voice of grim desperation, but really, I wouldn’t mind at all if he ripped off all her expensive clothes and had her right there in our bed. She downed her gin abruptly. I’m sure you would if it happened, Daniel assured her. Maybe, she said. Fingers playing constantly with her face or round the corners of her lips, or dipping the little silver cross in and out of her cleavage, she told him, You’ve had loads of women, haven’t you, Dan? Lorry loads. He opened his mouth. It wasn’t just Jane, was it? Oh, don’t deny it, you rogue! You’ve had millions! No, don’t be silly, Martin tells me everything, he says you’re still seeing . . .

  No!

  Now Judge Savage was upset. His voice was firm and sober. No, that really isn’t true, Christine. She looked at him carefully. She is carefully made up, he thought. There was an evident element of premeditation about all this. She had decided how she was going to behave while he had been upstairs with Martin. Or even before, perhaps. She had been determined to take him out. If I remember rightly, she said, you’d have gobbled me right up that evening we kissed. He shook his head. Christine, that was really so . . . You had your hand up my dress! she squeaked; she bounced up suddenly on her seat as if he had only just that moment touched her bottom. That was ages and ages ago, Christine, Daniel said firmly, after a very long and very drunken . . . Well now I’m in the same position as you were then, she said brutally.

  Rummaging for cigarettes, she forced a pause in the conversation. Her bag was beside her on the floor. He knew she wasn’t listening to his quiet remark about being very happy with his life. He repeated it anyway. When she began to speak again, interrupting him, it was in an entirely different tone, low and straightforward, but as if communicating something of great importance: Dan, listen, please, don’t misunderstand me, I don’t want to leave Mart, I couldn’t, I mean, I don’t want to start some kind of grand passion, then when I think what he’s probably going through, you know, clinical depression and so on, but at the same time I do feel this huge . . . She stopped. This . . . she shook her head. Oh I don’t know, she wailed. Perhaps to punish him. Being unhappy makes me silly somehow. Do you understand?

  Daniel prayed the food would arrive. If only one could call people to order as one might a wayward witness. Suddenly afraid his body language was all wrong, he sat back in a deliberate gesture of disengagement. He tried to seem easy where he had been tense, sprawled where he had been upright. Confront him with it directly, he told her. You’ll save yourself a lot of time and effort, believe me. He might have been telling her how to fix a computer. Or perhaps it was Martin’s guru voice he’d assumed. He was playing Martin to Martin’s wife. Tell him you’re at your wits end and thinking of going to bed with someone else. No, I couldn’t, she said quickly. I couldn’t do that. She too sat back, glazed, thwarted. She shook her head. Try, he insisted. Talk to him. Once you’ve started it’ll be easier than you thought. If there was one thing that he knew wasn’t true, it was this. He tried to laugh. Aren’t you famous for telling each other everything? I won’t even phone Jane while she’s back, he decided. There must be no contact at all.

  Christine shook her head. I might be able to betray him, she said. But I couldn’t tell him I was, or even that I was thinking about it. Do you see what I mean? I couldn’t hurt him directly. I’ve never been able to do that. The same way he’s never hurt me. Did you know, Dan, that he’s never, never hurt me? I don’t believe I’ve ever hurt him. I take him his Lucozade poor dear. He has got a temperature actually. I’ve checked it. It’s been going on about ten days now. Low, but always there. And he has this odd rash on the back of his leg. I can hardly put his hot water bottle down and say, Listen Martin, lovey, since we’re not having sex, I’m off to screw someone else. I’m not that kind of person. Daniel observed: Things didn’t improve with Hilary, you know, until we had a head on collision. Right, she nodded. Only it was she found you out, wasn’t it, not you deciding to tell her. She told us everything, poor thing, while you were holed away in your silly hotel. Actually, if you want to know, I told her that as I saw it you’d only done it because she was always so bloody moody and depressed. Christine laughed, I thought Martin might get the hint.

  Then just as the girl appeared carrying their plates, Martin Shields’ wife actually began to giggle: Oh if you knew how many times Mart and I were lying in bed – she didn’t seem to have any qualms about letting the waitress hear this – criticising you for all the women you were having and saying how lucky you were Hilary had only found out about the one, and not the other twenty, when really of course we were jealous! Because we weren’t having sex at all! The truth is, she drained the second gin to make room for her plate – the waitress smiled – the truth is, maybe we never had children because I had to look after Martin, who after all is the biggest baby the world has known, you know? Always needing to hear he is better than everyone else. Always! You really are the best, Martin, she mimicked herself, shook her head, picked up a knife in her fist. Ruhhrr!

  Daniel asked, By the way do you know how Hilary found out? Thank you, he told the waitress. Christine frowned into the bottom of her glass. How did she find out? I’ve no idea. Tell me. No, I was asking you, Daniel smiled. Christine looked puzzled. Oh, I see. Why? Does it matter? You had lipstick on your collar, I suppose. She overheard a phone-call. Actually, she did say there was a period w
hen you were constantly on the phone.

  Then it occurred to Daniel that all of this must have been discussed in Sarah’s presence on those visits Martin had mentioned. Hilary had taken Sarah to eat with Martin and Christine and the whole thing, his affair, Jane, the possible break-up, had been lengthily discussed, in his daughter’s presence! Perhaps Tom was there too. This was alarming. Oh, before I forget, he said abruptly, he put his napkin down, I was hoping you would tell me if we’re likely to get a repeat of the problem with the payment – we had to take out a loan you know.

  Mouth full, Christine looked up in surprised amusement. Are you upset, she asked? Have I upset His Honour Judge Savage? She looked hard at him, then down at her plate. Business-like, she said: There’ll be no more problem now, Dan, okay, because from now I’m going to pay it directly myself from my own account. So let’s say no more about it. Apparently the hints about not having enough had been the merest melodrama.

  On the way back, fifty yards from the gate of the Shields’ house, she put her hand over his on the gear stick. Stop, Dan, Look! He pulled in. To the left, beyond the fence, there was a pool of neon in the middle of the lawn. They were looking down a slope with the river beyond. His moth trap. Lives of exemplary brevity, he says. He’s in bed all day, but then goes down at dawn to see what he’s caught. He pulls them out by handfuls and tries to snap them with the flash. They damage their wings in the muslin. So even if he doesn’t kill them, they die anyway.

  As she spoke, she put her left hand on his. Daniel was expecting the request for a kiss when it came. I know you don’t want to, she said easily, turning her face to him. But please. Just a kiss. It’s been such a lovely evening. She laughed, snuggling to him. At least I got a few things off my chest. Kiss me. No, he said. Otherwise I’ll tell Hilary! Daniel laughed: So if I don’t, you’ll tell, and if I do, you won’t. Right! She was smiling. There were tears in her eyes. And remember, I’m signing the cheques! It was a joke of course. They kissed for four or five minutes. He enjoyed it, enjoyed those breasts in particular, and driving back to town felt furious. Abruptly he turned off the ring road and headed for the centre.