to appear. When he did, he was surrounded in a triangle by Amanda, Belinda and Suzy, as though he was being escorted back to prison after a day in the dock. Suzy caught my eye and immediately strode over to me. ‘Liam: are you in the middle of arranging an after-party?’
‘I think some people are –’
‘Stop it right now, or pretend to Bennett it’s not taking place.’
‘But he’s been to this party before. He’s not really going to believe we’re all going to bed now.’
‘Well, Cockburn’s not here this time, is he? And can’t you just help, Liam? He’s supposed to be speaking at the Fair at midday tomorrow, chairing an event on the Argentina programme. If he carries on he won’t have gone to sleep by then. He should not be doing this any more.’
Nor should I. She was right; it was time for my empty bed and Sarah’s strewn clothes on the floor, to start to tidy up the mess I had made of my life.
‘Sorry. I’ll go and tell everyone to pretend the after-party’s off. Come and help though. They all love him, they won’t want to let him go. I need you to help me threaten them.’
‘With pleasure.’
But it was too late. Fergus and the actresses had found a cab and as Suzy and I made our pact, one of them opened the door and called out to Bennett: ‘One space left, Craig, get in!’ Before anyone could stop him Craig had darted towards it. ‘Craig, come back!’ we all shouted. The door closed behind him and the taxi accelerated away.
‘Oh, fuck,’ Suzy said.
Belinda and Amanda appeared either side of me.
‘I blame you for this,’ said Belinda.
‘I was trying to help Suzy get him home,’ I protested.
‘He was,’ said Suzy. ‘You can still blame him, though.’
‘Do you know where he’s going?’ said Amanda.
‘I can find him,’ I said.
‘Find him,’ said Belinda. ‘Stay with him. Has your phone got power?’
‘It has,’ I said.
‘If you fail to answer your phone to Amanda or me, your day will begin tomorrow with me taking a long look at your contract of employment – do you understand? I have never been so angry in my life. Just get him to his reading tomorrow, or get Amanda to him tomorrow morning in time to get him to the reading. Just take control of the situation, for fuck’s sake. Sober up, stay awake and go and find him.’
I found him the first place we looked. I was in a cab with three of an endangered species, Irish booksellers, one of whom had been at the party the night before and knew exactly what had happened between Cockburn and Bennett. ‘He was fucking Cockburn’s wife,’ he told me. ‘It’s sure. I heard them arguing over her just before it happened.’
‘I know his wife,’ I said. ‘I’m pretty sure one maniac’s enough for her. There’s no way that was happening.’
‘Ah, you say that, but humans, you know – they’re always surprising you.’
We pulled up at the scene of the crime and looked up. A man was leaning out the window, contemplating the ground beneath him. As we got out of the car he finished his cigarette, waved and bounced the glowing tip on the concrete.
‘Nice escape,’ I called up.
‘Is that what I’ve done?’ Bennett called back. ‘You better come in then.’
Three more cabs showed up: Fergus was a friendly host. Half of the guests had been at the party the night before and immediately began to whisper the story of Cockburn’s fall to the half who had not, inclining their heads towards the famous window. I was busy talking to Bennett about our mutual friend Amy Casares, hoping he wouldn’t notice, and he was animatedly telling me about the adventures they had had in Buenos Aires. All of a sudden, he seemed very sad. ‘Can we get out of this room?’ he asked. ‘I know they’re talking about me.’
We found a bedroom and Bennett shut the door behind him. We sat down on the bed. ‘It’s good to talk to a friend of Amy,’ he said. ‘Amy was always the one for me. When she moved to Madrid, I should have followed her. She would have let me, I’m convinced she would have. You can never know you were wrong if you never tried. That’s what we want most sometimes, to know we were wrong. I’ll never know. I had my set-up in Buenos Aires, I knew what I was doing there. I had attachments. But when she left, they were different, the attachments. They weren’t fun any more. I can see you’re being brave about your girlfriend. And you should be brave. But I wish I had been courageous earlier so I didn’t have to pretend to be now. That’s what being brave is: pretending to be brave. That’s what it’s for. What I’m trying to ask you is, do you love her?’
‘Yes,’ I said.
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