Page 46 of The Player

I open my mouth but can’t think of a single thing to say apart from an insane desire to shout, “I had this man’s boyfriend’s penis in my hand last night. I’m ahomewrecker.”

He looks sideways at me. “I know about you two,” he says, and I jerk.

“What?”

He leans closer, talking into my ear because it’s so loud. “I know you got off with each other.” He shrugs. “And that you’re in love with him.” I swallow hard, and he gives me a coaxing smile. “It doesn’t matter to me. You can shag each other as much as you like. Con and I are open. But a word of warning. We will still be together at the end, so you might want to get rid of your feelings as they won’t do you any good.” He gives me a sympathetic look that doesn’t quite manage to conceal his glee.

I stare at him. The thing is, I’m pretty sure he’s lying or embellishing, but I’m blindsided because this whole conversation has an awful echo of the one I’d had at another concert. It was how I found out about David being unfaithful when the bloke appeared and told me all about them.

And for a second, I waver. After all, David warned me about Con. He said he was a huge player. I remember him laughing about it. “Don’t fall for that good old village boy act,” he’d saidone night in the pub when Con and I had sat talking all evening. “He’s a player through and through. You wouldn’t believe how much arse he gets. The boys love a brown-eyed charmer, but that’s all they’ll ever get.”

I look up, and the crowd clears, and Con looks straight over at us. There’s a frozen pause as he sees Tim standing close to me, and then he stands up, putting the bodhran down with a thud. There’s a brief startled pause before the singer laughs. “I think Con’s ready for a break, folks,” he says. “We’ll take five.”

But Con isn’t listening to him. He comes to the edge of the stage and vaults down. He strides towards us, but he’s held back by the crowd patting him on the back. I look around to find a couple of people’s eyes on me and flush. When I look back, Con is closer now with a worried look on his face. One of the village lads grabs his arm to tell him something, and I seize the opportunity and slip out of the marquee.

I don’t get three steps before I hear Con say, “Frankie,” and his hand grabs me and pulls me into the shadows to the side of the entrance. The folds of the tent conceal us but provide enough light for me to see his face. He looks frantic.

“You left,” he says breathlessly.

“Yes.” I falter. “I wanted to get out of there,” I finally say, wanting to explain how much I hate having people stare at me with such avaricious eyes as they store up gossip. I had enough of that with David.

“What did he say to you?” he says fiercely. “I saw your face.”

“It was nothing,” I say, staring at the strong muscles of his throat. “Just shit about how he didn’t mind if we shagged, but he’s got a relationship with you, and I need to be aware of it.”

I look up, startled as Con groans. “He’s lying. He means nothing to me.” He shakes my arm. “Fuckingnothing.”

“Why is he here?” I say, staring up at his impassioned face.

“I got home and told him it was time he left.”

“Oh shit,” I whisper. “I’ve become David.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he says sharply. “Tim and I weren’t ever together. We flirted with each other on tour, and when I said I was coming home, he asked to come too. He said he wanted to see the Cotswolds and could he stay for a few days. We’d kissed a few times on tour because I thought at the time that I needed to move on. I couldn’t see a reason to say no when he asked to stay, but he’s never been my boyfriend, and he never will be.”

“Move on from what?” I ask, but he’s still talking.

“I realised I couldn’t move on as soon as I saw you again. There was nothing for you to break up.Nothing. We never slept together. I slept on the airbed in the lounge while he had my bed.” He looks at me. “Tell me you believe me,” he says in a low voice. “I can’t bear it if I’ve stuffed this up just when I’ve finally got you.”

“Why did he say all that stuff to me tonight, then?”

“God knows. Although Gene warned me that he was a bitch and causes trouble wherever he goes. Tim wasn’t happy that I wouldn’t fuck him, and he could see the way I am with you. Maybe he just wanted to stir the shit.” He sighs. “I know you think I’m a player. David said it often enough. He thought it was funny.”

“I don’t think that,” I say, and my voice is clear and firm. “Idon’t,” I say again as he looks dubious. “Yes, David said that, and I sort of believed it at the time, but I know you now, Con.”

“You believed Tim tonight.”

“Only for a second. It just sent me reeling being accosted at a concert again.”

He groans and hangs his head. “Shit, I never thought of that. I thought we’d parted on good terms in the end. He packed his bags and was all smiles. He said he thought he’d meander along to see the party, and I didn’t see any harm in it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say, grabbing his hands. “Con, I?—”

“Con, we’re going back on.” Bill, the lead singer’s voice, breaks into our conversation. Con spins around, and Bill smiles when he sees me. “Hey, Frankie. I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Con shakes his head. “I’m not going back on.”

“Don’t be silly,” I say over Bill’s incredulous “What?”