A Married Man - Part 13
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Part 13

'The other day, I could have sworn I saw you somewhere else. It was just a glimpse, and it didn't even register at the time, but I've been wracking my brains ever since to remember where on earth .. ' He frowned, bent his head and stared at the gra.s.s.

Oh G.o.d, don't wrack too hard, I thought, allowing myself to breathe as he took his eyes off me breathe Lucy, breathe, or you will b.l.o.o.d.y die. My heart was going like billyo, and not just with the effort of preserving my world. I gazed rapturously at the top of his head. I'd forgotten, for instance, the way his dark hair curled on his collar like that, the way he was going very slightly grey at the sides, the way 'And always with your dog!' he said, jerking his head up suddenly.

'Dog?' Jack frowned.

'Yes, you always had a funny little dog with you, didn't you?' he insisted. 'Under your arm, mostly, and you used to walk up and down my street endlessly with him. All sort of red in the face and panting. I was usually working at my desk in the window and I used to feel so sorry for you. You were always staring around, wild-eyed, as if you were looking for something. I almost flung open the window once and yelled, "What? What are you looking for, tell me!" '

I gasped. Christ! Just as well he hadn't. They were all looking at me expectantly.

'Gra.s.s,' I croaked finally.

'Gra.s.s?' Jack looked startled. 'You were looking for gra.s.s?' He blinked. 'Well, stroll on down. I didn't think you indulged,' he drawled. 'You were always such a goody-twoshoes. And now I find you making a drug-crazed trawl of the London streets, desperate for your next fix.'

'No no, for the dog! So he could you know, do his business. He was a very fussy little dog you see, couldn't do it on the pavement. Had to have a bit of soft stuff for, well ...'

Anti-splash?' offered Jack. 'Don't we all my love, don't we all. I always pop a sheet of Andrex down first to soften the blow.' He scratched his head. 'How very fascinating, Luce. I didn't know you were such a canine expert. I must admit, I'm only really interested in doggy talk in bedroom situations but ooh, h.e.l.lo.' He broke off suddenly to gaze down appreciatively at Trisha's bejewelled navel. 'Someone's had a tummy job.'

'What doggy talk?'

I turned to find Jess at my elbow. Oh G.o.d, she was all I needed, although I was relieved to see that Trisha had taken Jack by the arm and was leading him away towards the shrubbery, bent on further acquainting him with her sparkling midriff, which he, in turn, seemed keen to investigate. So much for Plato.'What dog's this then?' demanded Jess.

'Oh, urn, Theo and Ray's Yorkie,' I mumbled. 'You remember, I used to take it for walks a lot. In London.'

'Did you?' She blinked. 'I didn't know that. Thought you said it was a ghastly little runt. Hi there' She directed this last at Charlie, flashing him a dazzling smile and clearly thinking he was the furthest thing from a ghastly little runt she'd seen in a long time. She shot me a look and waited expectantly.

'Oh, um, this is my great friend from London, Jess O'Connor,' I muttered. 'And this .. I stalled suddenly. Panicked. Oh b.u.g.g.e.r. Oh big b.u.g.g.e.r. 'This . is Charles,' I concluded lamely.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'No no, Charlie's fine. I haven't been called Charles since I was at prep school.'

'Charlie,' said Jess thoughtfully, rolling it around in her mouth, savouring it as a python would a dormouse. Her eyes narrowed and she dropped the dazzling smile. 'Really. And how do you know Lucy, Charlie?'

As another huge bucket of red-hot blood threatened to wash over me, I realised that all I really wanted to do was to wake up in a cool hospital bed to find this had all been a ghastly anaesthetic dream, and that my only task was to tick fruit c.o.c.ktail or apple crumble on the hospital menu. I couldn't believe I was standing here talking to him. Couldn't believe this fantasy man, this pin-up on the bedroom wall of my mind, was here, right in front of me, with my best friend all set to interrogate the pants off him.

'Well, we don't actually know each other,' Charlie was saying, 'but as I was just explaining, we used to b.u.mp into each other an awful lot in London. It was extraordinary, we-'

'Look, this job,' I blurted out, desperate to turn the conversation away from chance meetings in London streets and Jess's beady gaze. 'I hate to sound grasping or anything, but Trisha did mention something. In an antique shop?'

He looked blank for a second, then came to. 'Oh! Oh, yes, quite right. We got sidetracked. Yes, well it belongs to a mate of mine called Kit Alexander. He calls it an emporium, actually, rather than a shop, which I suppose is fair, because it's huge. It's in this amazing old manor house in Frampton, takes up about three floors. He's always run it pretty much single-handed, but it's getting too much for him now, and he's looking for some help. Is that the sort of thing you'd be interested in?'

'Oh definitely,' I breathed, hopefully not too gustily and not too much all over him. 'My mum has a stall in the Portobello Road, so I know all about selling antiques. Jess and I used to help her with it, didn't we?' I said eagerly.

'We did, but that was just a lark on a Sat.u.r.day morning,' said Jess carefully. She turned to Charlie. 'Lucy's not giving you the entire picture here, I'm afraid. She used to work in the porcelain department at Christie's. She's a specialist in eighteenth-century European china, hardly a shop girl. I thought you said you were going to try the auction house in Oxford, Lucy? Or even approach the Art History Department at the University? Go for something a bit more cerebral?'

'I was,' I hissed, wondering what I'd ever seen in this girl and wishing she'd disappear. 'But this would be a start, Jess.' I grinned, baring my teeth at her.

'Yes, but you don't want to take this job as "a start" and then leave the poor chap in the lurch, do you?'

And you don't want to find a.r.s.enic in your cornflakes. 'Well of course I wouldn't do a thing like that!' I laughed.

'Perhaps the thing to do is to be up front about it,' suggested Charlie. 'Say that you'd like the job, but it may not be your final career move. That you might well move on at a later date. Be honest with him.'

'Oh absolutely,' I agreed, nodding earnestly, endeavouring to look as honest as the day.

'Because I must say, you do sound a bit overqualified to be serving in a shop. But on the other hand, Kit knows an awful lot of influential people in the antiques world. Particularly around here. He'd be a very good person for you to meet in any event.'

'And I'd very much like to meet him in any event!' I glowed, gazing into his chocolate brown eyes and thinking, Ooh yesss, yesss I would. Any friend of yours. Just go away, Jess, go away. She would keep staring at me though, really rather rudely.

'I was going to pop in and see him on my way to Bristol on Friday, actually,' said Charlie, scratching his chin thoughtfully. 'Why don't I pick you up and take you with me?'

I nearly fainted with pleasure. Those glorious words. Pick You Up And Take You With Me. What, in his arms? Naked but for a wolfskin?

'That would be marvellous,' I croaked.

'But isn't it rather out of your way?' persisted the ghastly Jess. 'We pa.s.sed through Frampton on our way down from London. It's hardly en route to Bristol, is it? Surely it's in the other direction?'

'No no, it's not that far out,' said Charlie airily. 'And Trisha pointed your barn out to me earlier, Lucy. I'll come by at about ten o'clock, shall I? Would that be all right?' 'Perfect,' I smiled happily.

Jess smiled too. 'Perfect,' she repeated with a purr. She looked pointedly at Charlie, folded her arms and tucked in her chin, like someone looking into the eye of a storm. But he wasn't looking at her, he was looking at me. Jess glanced around.

'Lovely party, isn't it, Charlie?'

'What?' He took his eyes off me and followed her gaze. 'Oh, oh yes. Lovely.'

'So many beautiful people,' she said wistfully. 'Beautiful women, more to the point, makes me feel rather dowdy. Should be the other way round, really, coming from London. Is one of them yours?'

'Sorry?'

'I mean, is one of them your wife? Or are you here alone?' 'Oh I see. Well yes, I'm here alone-'

'But you are married?'

'I am as a matter of fact, but-'

'Oh look, here are the boys!' I interrupted hastily, as at that fortuitous moment, Teresa appeared with Pietro, Ben and Max. 'Hi Teresa!' I cried, waving with perhaps more gusto than was strictly necessary.

'They were getting a little out of hand,' called Teresa as she came towards us, keeping a tight grip on various small hands. 'I thought maybe we take them back, put them to bed. Max -he been a real monkey. Keep asking waiters for Bacardi Breezers!'

Jess laughed. 'The little love. So killing at that age. Do youhave any children, Charlie?' Out it flicked, faster than a serpent's tongue.

'A daughter, Ellen. She's eight.'

My heart lurched. Questions crowded my mind. Why only one? Can't you have any more? Or have you gone off each other in bed? How is your s.e.x life by the way, and if it's not great, might I offer my services? What is your opinion of open marriages, anyway?

'How lovely,' smoothed Jess, not done yet. 'And, um, I'm sorry, I forgot what you said - is your wife here tonight?' She glanced around, including me in her glance.

'She's not actually, she hasn't felt very well for a few days. Got a filthy cold, so she decided to give it a miss. Probably putting her feet up in front of the telly with a box of chocolates. And are these yours, Lucy?' He grinned down at Ben and Max who were tussling together on the gra.s.s, fighting over a can of c.o.ke.

'Yes, yes they are. Ben and Max. Boys, um, this is Mr Fletcher. He's very kindly suggested a place where Mummy might go and work. A sort of shop type thing. Isn't that lovely?'

'Oh cool, then you won't be so stressy,' said Ben, looking up. 'I prefer it when you work.'

Max had lost the battle of the c.o.ke can and was peering up at Charlie from the ground. He shaded his eyes with his hand. 'We saw you the other day,' he said suddenly. 'I remember you. You were outside that white house. The one with the pond at the front.'

Charlie frowned momentarily, then his face cleared. 'That's it!' he exclaimed. 'Exactly! G.o.d, I was trying to remember where I'd seen you, and you were parked outside my house.'

Was it my imagination, or had the world gone a little darker? Had G.o.d inadvertently hit the toner b.u.t.ton on the remote control?

'Yes, because Mummy wanted Ben to post a letter,' went on Max, standing up. 'Except it wasn't a real letter. It was an old gas bill.'

'Don't be silly, it wasn't an old gas bill, Max! It was just a bit scruffy!' I chortled. 'Got crumpled at the bottom of my bag. Now, are you boys ready to go?'

'And then they had a fight 'cos Ben said it wouldn't get there and Mummy said she'd sodding well kill him if he didn't sodding well put it in.'

'Ah ha ha!' I tinkled merrily, as Jess raised her eyebrows. 'Yes, well, I'm sure Mr Fletcher doesn't want to hear all our domestic trials and tribulations. Come along, Max.' I d.a.m.n near dislocated his shoulder as I yanked him around.

'Oh, but on the contrary, it all sounds remarkably familiar,' said Charlie with a grin. 'I have a similar sort of brown envelope syndrome, in that I simply can't open them. Leave them rotting away in the bottom of drawers. I must say, I've never thought of sending the b.u.g.g.e.rs back. That's inspired!' He smiled down at Max. 'I was just telling your mum, I have a daughter not much older than you. She's eight.'

'Then that's much older than me. I'm only four and a half. But I'm very mature for my age.' He straightened up. 'Very well developed.'

'Of course you are,' Charlie chuckled. Then in an aside to me - 'I believe that's what's known as a bit of a handful?' 'Oh no, much more than that,' I admitted. 'A handful wouldbe a very meagre quant.i.ty to relate to Max. More like a truckful. In fact I'm not sure I contain him at all, sometimes.' 'Ah. So, it's "wait till your father gets home", is it?' 'No no, his father's dead. Ned died four years ago.' 'Oh. I'm sorry.'

There was a silence. He looked at me for a long moment and I believe he meant it. His eyes were warm and sincere, and it seemed to me that despite Jess, Teresa and the boys standing around, something unspoken pa.s.sed between us. I know I was gazing at him pretty feverishly, but it wasn't just that. Surely his eyes were resting on me equally appreciatively, and with a certain amount of unashamed interest, too?

'Right, let's go then,' said Jess, breaking the moment. 'The boys are exhausted and I think we've pretty much exhausted this party, too. Rozanna's gone on ahead already, so ...' She turned to Charlie and gave him a sweet, but dangerous smile. 'Goodbye. It was lovely to meet you.'

'Lovely to meet you too.' He smiled back, seemingly oblivious. Then he turned to me. 'Bye, Lucy.' He leaned forward and brushed my cheek quickly with his lips. 'See you Friday, then.'

'Yes!' I gasped. 'Super.'

'Bye boys.' He gave them a cheery wave. 'Teresa.' He nodded. Then raising his gla.s.s, he turned, and walked back into the party.

I stood for a few moments, watching him go. Mesmerised. Paralysed. When I turned back, the others had gone. I slipped off my shoes and followed them, walking quickly back down the gra.s.sy slope, shoes in hand, until I caught up. We went on through the park towards the lake together in uneasy silence.

'Race you back, boys!' Teresa cried suddenly, knowing the air had to be sliced. The boys yelped and raced off as she ran on ahead of them.

That just left Jess and me. She folded her arms and dredged up a great sigh.

'Oh Lucy. Be careful. Be very, very, careful.'

'Hmmm?' My face, I could tell, was still flushed, so I didn't look at her, but concentrated instead on the boys racing ahead, affecting to misunderstand. My heart was thumping.

'That man. You know what I mean. Jesus, even I felt the heat back there, and I've had a baby. Been impervious to that sort of thing for months.'

'Did you?' I stopped. Touched her arm. 'It wasn't just me then? Wasn't my imagination? You could sense something too?'

She laughed drily. Shook my hand off and walked on. 'Oh yeah. I sensed something all right. Something with a few thousand volts attached to it, and both ways too, but look, Lucy,' she struggled. 'I don't always want to be the cold water pourer, the voice of your conscience, and I know you've had a really rough time and deserve some happiness, but you know what I'm going to say.'

I tilted my hot face up to the cool blue vault of the heavens. 'I know,' I murmured. 'He's married. But Jess - surely, if you're right, if we're both right, and there was something electric going on back there, then . . I hesitated. 'Then surely it follows that there's something wrong? I mean, with the marriage?' I said hopefully.

'What, because a man looks at a pretty girl like that at a party? Do me a favour, it can be the most blissful of domestic set-ups and lightning can still strike if circ.u.mstances allow it.

Doesn't mean there's something wrong with the marriage, just that temptation is in the way. A boozy party, a conference abroad ... that's what's so frightening.'

'You're talking about you and Jamie now,' I muttered.

'Yes,' she sighed. 'Maybe I am. And maybe the reason I'm eaten up with jealousy and suspicion is because he has the sort of life where it can happen, where lightning can strike, and I don't.' She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. 'And part of me believes he is faithful, actually. It's just - well OK, suppose he was at a party, right, like the one we've just been to tonight, and some single girl starts making goo-goo eyes at him like you've just done to Charlie, well, in a way, what's the poor sod supposed to do? He's only a man, for Christ's sake. A pathetic pulse on legs, programmed to act on impulse. So where does that leave me? And where does it leave Charlie's wife? Alone, at home, with the kid, nursing a rotten cold and-unaware that some predatory hussy is eyeing up her husband and arranging a date for Monday.'

'It's not a date,' I muttered. 'It's to see about a job'

'Which under normal circ.u.mstances you wouldn't even consider,' she scoffed.

I struggled to be honest. 'Maybe not, and certainly not in London, but Jess, something about this whole situation makes me want to - need to - take it a step further. I have to - well, just peer around the corner. I can't stop now.'

'If you can't stop now, you'll be totally out of control later,' she observed sourly. 'This is the best time, Lucy, believe me. On this first corner. This is the time to ring him up and say, "Actually, forget it mate. Don't come. I'll sort out my own job, thanks very much." '

We'd arrived at the garden gate now and Rozanna, who'd got back earlier, was opening the barn door for the others.

'The awful thing is, I know you're right. It's just-'

'It's just you're still basking in the afterglow of your t.i.tillating conversation back there, longing to go to bed and hug it to yourself. Longing to marvel at the wonder of it all, knowing you haven't felt like this for four years.'

'Yes!' I breathed, turning to her. 'That's it.'

'And you're remembering how it feels to have a devastatingly handsome man look at you like that, kiss your cheek like that.'

'Yes. Exactly, Jess'

'And because no one's ever come remotely close to making you feel so alive and excited since Ned died-'

'Yes?'

'You want to know if this feeling is for real. See if you really can unfurl your dry old roots and drink again, but of course, you wouldn't do anything silly. Nothing unwholesome. Wouldn't go the whole hog with this guy, nothing naked and horizontal.'

'That's it exactly, Jess! I wouldn't. Really I wouldn't.'

'b.o.l.l.o.c.ks,' she scoffed. 'You're a lost cause, Luce, you know that, don't you? Sunk without a snorkel. Because take it from me, my friend, the moment your b.u.m hits that seat in that quaint little country pub, which is where you'll undoubtedly end up just as soon as you've gone through the spurious motions of meeting your future employer, the moment your eyes lock over that bottle of Chablis and that basket of scampi-'

'Coo-eeee!'

A cry rang out through the dark valley. Jess stopped, mid-flow. We swung around together in surprise. As we peered down the hill in the half light, I saw Rose coming up behind us. She was teetering unsteadily through the b.u.t.tercup meadow in very high heels, and waving wildly.

'Christ. That's all we bleeding need,' muttered Jess.

Suddenly I felt awful. G.o.d, I hadn't even said goodbye to her. I'd been so preoccupied with Charlie, I hadn't even thanked her for the party, which had been in my honour, for heaven's sake! I hurried down to meet her in bare feet, as she came panting up towards me, one hand clutching a lace hanky to her chest.

'Oh Rose! I'm so sorry, how awful of me! I didn't come and find you to thank you. And it was such a lovely party, really it was, but the boys were a bit tired, so we thought we'd slip away without breaking it up' I took her arm anxiously as we walked the rest of the way to the barn together.

'Oh absolutely,' she panted, waving away my apology with her hanky. 'Quite right, you had to get the boys back as you say, quite right and proper. Although I have to say, young Trisha should have done that for you. I asked her to take them back if needs be, that's why she was there, for pity's sake, not to chat up my nephew which is what she's doing now!'