Naked Angels. Judi James

      The car hit a rabbit; it bounced straight up over the bonnet like a tumbler in a circus act and onto the windscreen. Nico didn’t swerve once; it was as though the accident hadn’t happened. Evangeline saw the rabbit’s squashed face before it took off again. There was a red splashy mark where it had hit the glass. She almost wet herself with the shock but Nico didn’t mention it.

      ‘Do you know?’ she asked him after a while. Nico shrugged and said nothing. The shrug told her she wasn’t to ask again. She could see the question made him uncomfortable so she looked out of the window instead. ‘What do I call you?’ she asked after a while.

      ‘What?’ She could tell from his voice that he had been thinking hard enough to be miles away.

      ‘Do I call you Mr Castelli?’

      Nico made a noise like a snort. ‘Of course not,’ he said, ‘I’m your father.’ ‘What, then?’

      He took both hands off the wheel and stretched as though he were tired. She had never seen anyone drive without using their hands.

      ‘Father?’ he asked. Evangeline bit her lip. ‘I told you – Nico, then – hell, I don’t care.’ Nico looked round at her. ‘What’s that you’re doing? Stop that. How long have you done that for?’ Evangeline was biting her nails. She didn’t stop because it made her feel better. ‘I used to do that,’ Nico added, after a pause. ‘It makes people think you’re scared of them.’

      Evangeline stopped.

      She thought the hotel looked good from the outside and she preferred the noise of the traffic compared to the constant whispering of the sea. She wondered if Nico would be funny, like Darius. Grandma Klippel hadn’t a funny bone in her body. Darius must have got his talent for clowning from some other branch of the family. All Nico ever did was look worried.

      After a while Evangeline began to imagine she was living in a palace. She felt wrapped in tissue, like a doll. It was strange, ordering all your food by phone. Nico told Evangeline to ring for whatever she wanted. She thought at first that no one would take notice of a little girl on the phone, but the food arrived, just as she’d asked for it. No one questioned her when she wanted ice-cream at every meal and no one told her to sit up straight at the table – mainly because she usually ate alone.

      Sometimes Nico sat with her but when he did he would just sit and smoke.

      ‘You shouldn’t do that,’ Evangeline told him.

      ‘Do what?’ he looked surprised.

      ‘Smoke cigarettes. It’s bad for my lungs, especially when I’m eating,’ Evangeline told him. She sounded just like her grandmother, even to her own ears.

      ‘Don’t worry about your lungs,’ Nico said.

      ‘Someone has to,’ Evangeline replied.

      ‘Then you quit biting your nails,’ Nico stubbed out his cigarette.

      ‘Chewing nails won’t kill me,’ Evangeline said. ‘Smoking can.’

      ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah.’ Nico folded his arms and stared at her. Evangeline almost smiled at that. So did Nico.

      She used to cry at night; it was part of her routine. ‘Never cry in front of people, always cry in your room,’ Grandma Klippel had taught her. She would climb into bed and close her eyes and the tears would always come, whether she was feeling sad or not. Bedtime was a sad time. Thea used to read to her when she was small, or Darius would sing. Patrick used to sleep on her bed. It was difficult to get rid of memories like that. One night Nico walked past her room and he must have heard her crying, because his footsteps stopped. She knew he was listening so she held her breath and he walked on after a while.

      The next morning she could feel him looking at her.

      ‘Do you miss your grandmother?’ he asked.

      Evangeline kept her head down. ‘No,’ was all she would say. It was just about the truth, too. Grandma Klippel always meant well but she wasn’t the sort of woman you could admit to missing much.

      ‘Maybe you should go back to her,’ Nico sounded almost hopeful.

      ‘I don’t think so,’ Evangeline told him. She wouldn’t look at his face. She was scared she might see his disappointment. He didn’t want her there, she knew that. She wasn’t going back to live with the sea again, though, not for anyone’s sake.

      ‘Did my money arrive yet?’ she asked carefully.

      ‘What money?’ Nico sounded cagey.

      ‘My inheritance.’

      Nico sighed. ‘What did your grandmother tell you?’ he asked.

      ‘Nothing,’ Evangeline whispered, ‘I overheard. You want me here so you can get my money, isn’t that right? I don’t mind.’ Nico was blood, after all.

      Nico sat down at the table. He tapped her hand until she looked at him. ‘It’s your money by rights, Evangeline,’ he said. ‘Your mother would have wanted you to have it. Your grandmother says there isn’t any. I know there is. Your parents had plenty; everyone knew that. It’s only right that you have it.’

      ‘Why don’t you sue her, then?’ Evangeline asked.

      ‘Sue who?’

      ‘My grandmother. You think she’s keeping it, don’t you?’

      Nico ran a hand through his hair. ‘Jesus, how old are you? Fifty? What do you know about suing? It costs money, Evangeline – money I haven’t got. Do you know how much it takes to bring a court case? No, neither do I, but I know it’s more than I have, that’s for sure. I mentioned suing – as you’ve asked – and your grandmother laughed at me.’

      ‘Were you in prison some time?’ Evangeline asked him.

      He started coughing again. ‘Jesus!’

      ‘Only I wondered why you never came to see me when I was small.’ She sat up straight now, as her grandmother had taught her.

      Nico pursed his lips. ‘No, I wasn’t in prison, Evangeline. I just … kept out of the way, that was all. Your mother had a new life. You had a new father. What was I supposed to be hanging around for? Did you want me to turn up every Sunday and take you out to the zoo or something?’

      Evangeline shook her head.

      ‘No, well, there you are. I didn’t want that either. Neither did Thea, though she never said as much.’

      ‘Where are they buried?’ Evangeline asked. Nico did not have to ask who she meant. He stared at her. A nerve in the side of his face started to twitch.

      ‘You want to know where they’re buried?’

      Evangeline nodded – yes.

      ‘Why?’

      ‘To visit,’ she whispered. ‘I think I must have rights.’

      Nico nodded slowly. ‘OK,’ he replied. He didn’t say where they were or when they would go, though.

      ‘Did you love my mother?’ Evangeline asked.

      ‘Everyone loved your mother,’ Nico told her. End of conversation.

      Nico worked at night quite often and Evangeline was left alone, which was fine because no one was ever really alone in an hotel. Then Grandma Klippel found out and said things had to change. She phoned one night while Nico was out and when he came back she phoned again and Evangeline watched his face go red as he listened to her. ‘OK,’ he kept saying, ‘OK.’

      A girl turned up the following night – a big, fair-haired girl with a funny voice, called Nettie, whom Evangeline didn’t care for much. Nettie smiled a lot but she was also a mess-maker, which Evangeline didn’t like as she had to follow the girl around the place, plumping up cushions and picking lint up off the carpet.

      Nettie