She trailed off and reached for her drink. Her hand was shaking a little. Where had that torrent of words come from? Jake reached forward suddenly and took her hand. The shock of it, his palm against hers, made her flinch.
“It’s alright.”
“Yes, sorry – “
She fumbled for a tissue in her bag with her free hand. She wondered if he could feel the slight tremor in the fingers he was gripping. His hand was warm, the palm slightly damp. The silver ring he wore on his left index finger pressed hard against the bones of her hand.
Bella took a deep breath.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise, you idiot.”
Bella tried to speak normally.
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“Yes. Why were you there? Why were you on the tube? I suppose you were going to work…”
Jake let go of her hand and it dropped to the table, hitting her empty glass with a dull chime. He didn’t seem to notice. That darkened look lowered his brows again.
“I was going to meet my brother,” he said slowly. It sounded as though the words were coming to him one by one, each one weighed in a moment of contemplation before being spoken. The words hung in the air between them, oddly like a code. Bella raised her eyebrows enquiringly. There was a moment’s silence.
“My brother,” Jake repeated. He was looking at the table, his gaze suddenly blank. Bella made what she hoped was an encouraging ‘hmm’ sound. He stared at nothing for another moment and then raised his eyes to hers, forcing what looked like a rather reluctant smile.
“Yes, my brother,” he said for the third time. “He’s my older brother – Carl, his name’s Carl. We were going to have a coffee and – and talk about a few things. A few house issues.”
“House issues?”
Jake sat up slightly straighter. The sun was behind his shoulder now, making Bella squint a little to make out his expression. “Yes, we live together, didn’t I say? We’ve lived together for a few years now. We’ve got this big old house in Highgate. Actually, that makes it sound a bit better than it actually is. It’s not technically Highgate, it’s Archway. It’s big though. God, sorry, that sounds really boastful.”
Bella shook her head. “Is it just the two of you then?”
His head moved slightly, silhouetted against the glare of the sun.
“No, there’s V – she’s my brother’s girlfriend. Veronica.”
He closed his mouth abruptly over the last ‘ah’ of the word. Bella was left with the impression that he wanted to say more. Why didn’t he? She realised she didn’t yet know him well enough to ask.
From the easiness of their first hour of conversation, they now seemed in danger of sinking into a quagmire of awkward pauses. Bella was suddenly aware of how busy the garden had become. They’d been so absorbed with each other that each had failed to notice the gradually thickening crowd that was even now encroaching on their tiny table. As if reading her mind, Jake shook himself and looked around at the tumult about them.
“Shit, it’s getting busy in here. I didn’t notice.”
Bella smiled nervously. “Neither did I. I wonder what the time is?”
“I know what time it is.”
Jake smiled slowly, his dark eyes on hers. Bella felt a quick pulse of excitement as he held her gaze and felt suddenly very young and very breathless once more.
“I know exactly what time it is,” he said. “It’s time for another drink.”
*
"You should come back to Fever Street," he said.
"Now?"
It was late and they were both drunk. The air was cooling very slowly, the sun having recently set in a blaze of flamingo pink and lurid orange. London hummed around them, dusty and rank and pulsing with noise.
"Yes, now. Come and see my house. I want you to see it."
Bella grinned. She thought fuzzily of train times and getting back to the station. There was a fleeting pang of guilt at the thought of her mother, home alone and waiting for her return. But just as quickly, a recklessness took hold of her. She felt ready for anything. Partly it was the booze but mostly it was Jake, with his sleepy grin and mobile black brows, his smudge of six o'clock shadow and broad shoulders. For the first time, she felt a strong lusty pull towards him, a plucking sensation deep down in the belly, as if gentle fingers were tickling her there.
She rang her mother and told her she’d missed her last train and would stay at her father’s house, managing not to wince at the lie. Jake stood a little apart from her as she talked and she appreciated his tact. They headed towards the tube station, jostled by the early evening crowd that thronged the pavement. Jake took hold of her hand. Jolted, she realised why the touch of his fingers felt so familiar. They'd held hands down in the tunnels. In the same moment, it registered with Bella that they were walking towards the underground, they were almost at the gaping mouth of the station entrance and she jerked away, almost unconsciously. Their hands parted and she came to a standstill, beginning to shake.
It was uncanny, how he knew. He realised what she was thinking, he didn't even have to ask. Jake put his hands on her shoulders and she could feel the muscles of her arms shuddering under his palms, she couldn't stop herself.
"We'll get a cab, okay?" he said quietly.
Bella nodded, not trusting herself to speak. It was amazing, the shivering - it was if someone else was controlling her body. Jake waved down a cab, opened the door, handed her inside. She let herself fall back on the seat upholstery, clasping both hands in front of her, trying to stop shaking.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes -”
It was a lie but as soon as she said it she began to feel better. Jake sat beside her, the length of his thigh warm against her own. He took hold of her hand again.
"I'm fine, really -”
Bella breathed deeply. She was fine, she did feel better.
"It was the tube, I can't go on the tube. I know I should, I know I should just bite the bullet and get back on the horse, whatever the phrase is. But I - I can't. Yet. I can't yet. I will one day."
"It's okay, Bella. You don't have to justify anything to me. You don't have to explain anything. If anything, I'm - "
He was looking out of the window as he was saying this and she didn't catch the last part of the sentence. It sounded like I'm the one who has to justify myself, but was it? Bella considered asking again for a moment and then pushed the thought away. It didn't matter.
The streets were busy and the taxi moved slowly, jolting occasionally over speed bumps and coming to a juddering halt at road junctions. Once, stationary at a red light, someone slapped the boot whilst passing behind them, shouting with laughter, and Bella flinched. She felt skinned, her nerve endings exposed to the night air. Jake looked at her and she tried hard to smile back reassuringly.
They didn’t talk at all during the journey but Bella didn’t feel shy or embarrassed. They were deep into North London now, and she felt a momentary qualm. She had no idea where they were or how to get back to Waterloo. Realising this, she surrendered to the feeling, relaxing back into the seat. It was too late to do anything. If Jake was a mass murderer… well, she’d been through enough this year. She could handle it. Bella giggled to herself inwardly, rising into flippancy, buoyed by the alcohol.
The taxi slowed, the indicator ticking steadily as the car began to turn. She realised that Jake was shifting beside her, stiffening to attention in the time-honoured manner of the taxi passenger nearing their house. She looked out of the window and saw in a fleeting glance the street sign at the end of the road. Fever Street. She felt a sudden jump of –what? Fear? Excitement? Jake let go of her hand and began to fumble in his pocket.