by Jane Green
There was something that told him she was bored, and that her husband didn’t excite her anymore, and that should a tall dark handsome stranger come along, particularly one who had both charm and an English accent, she might just jump at the opportunity.
A flirtation is all he’s thinking about right now. Even though Alice is not the Alice he thought she was, he’s still trying to be the faithful husband, still doing his hardest to treat America as the fresh start it was always meant to be.
But God, it felt good to see that sparkle, to see the look again. Christ—he’d almost forgotten how to recognize it. And good to know that he has still got it after all, that he’s still as attractive as he was in London (for a while there he was beginning to doubt it). And what harm could it do to play tennis with her? Bet she looks fanfuckingtastic in a little tennis skirt, those long bronzed legs with little bobby socks on.
Joe starts to get excited as he surveys her rear, imagining her in her tennis whites, and he sees her glance at him then pretend not to have seen as she turns and stretches, her full breasts straining under her tight T-shirt.
Not usually his type, but she’s one hot little number. He likes the fact that she looks after herself. That she may have had three kids but her stomach looks as taut as a teenager’s, and that she’s well aware of how good she looks, how sexy she is.
He smiles to himself as he turns away and takes a long swig of cool beer. He’d better find a sports store in Manhattan this week. Buy a couple of rackets and a couple of pairs of tennis shorts. And tennis shoes. God. He hasn’t worn tennis shoes in about twenty years.
Hmmm. Looks like life in the country might not be so boring after all.
17
Living in a big city, it’s easy to forget just how black the night sky is. As dusk turns to darkness in this small town in Connecticut, Alice gazes up at the stars, mesmerized. Candles have been lit, lanterns switched on, and the children have either dropped off to sleep in various strollers or are transfixed by Shrek on a huge television screen in the basement playroom.
The women have draped brightly colored cable-knit sweaters around their shoulders or pulled thin quilted jackets on to keep out the chill in the night air, but people are now starting to move inside to the kitchen and the family room, the men settling down on the large squashy sofas, the women fulfilling a housewife stereotype by huddling together in the kitchen, scraping plates and loading the dishwasher as they discuss which schools their children are at and whether they are happy there.
“Hey, I didn’t see you there.” Gina picks up the last of the bowls on the table outside when she notices Alice lying on a rattan lounger.
Alice turns her head and smiles. “Just thinking how incredible it is here. Look at that sky. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the darkness in the country.”
Gina smiles and perches on the edge of the lounger. “How many times do I have to tell you this isn’t the country, it’s the suburbs.”
“Not for me it’s not. You don’t find deer and raccoons in the suburbs in England.”
“No? What do you find?”
“Rows of semidetached houses mostly, and the odd souped-up Ford Escort.”
Gina laughs. “Sounds beautiful.”
“Just gorgeous,” Alice laughs. “Definitely worth seeing on your next trip.”
“So.” Gina lowers her voice conspiratorially and leans in to Alice. “What do you think of the neighbors?”
“All of them or any in particular?”
“Just generally. They’re nice, aren’t they?”
“Sally’s lovely. I can’t believe what a wonderful spread they had, and how relaxed everyone is.”
“I know. Sally and Chris are great. Who else have you talked to?”
“I spoke to Kay a bit.”
“Ah. Kay.”
Alice perks up. “Now, why do you say, ‘Ah, Kay,’ in that tone of voice?”
“What tone of voice?” Gina feigns innocence.
“Oh, come on. Tell me. Is she a bitch?”
“Not a bitch.” Gina turns around to check there’s no one within earshot. “I just think she’s incredibly insecure.”
“Insecure? But she’s gorgeous.”
“I know, but did you see what she was wearing? Those heels? For a Sunday night barbecue? Please! And she flirts with all the husbands.”
Alice breathes a sigh of relief. “You mean she’s not planning on having an affair with Joe then?”
“Probably. And George, and Chris, and Sam, and pretty much whoever else happens to be male.”
“I thought she was flirting with Joe and I got completely paranoid.”
“God, no need to get paranoid. George thinks it’s funny. Actually I think he’s quite flattered, but that’s just Kay. She needs to feel attractive.”
“Doesn’t her husband mind?”
“James? Actually I think he’s something of a flirt himself.”
“Oh.” Alice’s face falls. “He didn’t flirt with me.”
Gina laughs. “Don’t take it personally. He doesn’t practice when husbands are in earshot.”
“Ah. Good. That makes me feel much better. So do you think the two of them actually do anything about it, or is it just flirting?”
“I want to say that I’m pretty sure it’s just flirting, but around here you just never know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, key parties were huge in the seventies around here.”
“Key parties? What in God’s name is a key party?”
“You know.” Gina looks at Alice in disbelief. “When everyone put their keys on the coffee table and picked up someone else’s keys and went home with them.”
“Oh, you mean swinging parties.”
“Yup.”
“Like that movie, The Ice Storm?”
“Exactly! That was set just down the road from here in New Canaan.”
“No! So it really went on?”
“Honey, it was before my time, but that’s what they say.”
Alice starts to giggle. “I dare you to drop your keys on the coffee table in front of James and see what he does.”
“Yeah, right. He’d probably pick them up and then what?”
“Well, he is quite attractive . . .”
“And so is Joe, but that doesn’t mean I want to sleep with him.”
“You would if your name was Kay.”
Gina laughs. “I swear to God, if anybody actually took her up on it she’d run a mile. She just likes the attention.”
“Rather like my husband.”
“Oh. And I thought I was special.”
Alice laughs as Gina stands up and extends a hand to help Alice up. “Come on, everyone will be wondering where we’ve got to.”
“Now that could be another rumor in the making.”
“That’s true.” Gina laughs. “That would really give them something to talk about!”
“So, I hear you bought Rachel Danbury’s house.” Tom places his cup of coffee on the table and sits down next to Alice.
“Yes,” Alice says politely. “Do you know it?”
“I don’t know the house, but she was very well known around here in the twenties and thirties.”
“So I hear. I keep meaning to get a copy of The Winding Road.”
“You should talk to James. James!” Tom calls him over. “You have a copy of The Winding Road, don’t you?”
“Sure,” James nods. “Good old Rachel Danbury.”
“Did you know her?”
“I knew of her.” James sits down on Alice’s other side and leans back comfortably. “And I vaguely remember her being pointed out to me when I was a child. But my grandparents knew her, although after the book they didn’t speak.”
“Where could I get hold of a copy? I’d love to read it.”
“You’re welcome to borrow mine.”
“Really? I’d love to!”
“I’ll drop it in this week.”
“That would be lov
ely!”
“Are you here all week?”
“Well, Joe’s back in the city tomorrow, and I’ll either join him tomorrow or Tuesday, and then back here on Friday, but you can just leave it on the porch.” As she says it Alice smiles to herself, wondering whether Gina was right, whether he’ll try to get her on her own, because thus far she’s seen no sign of flirtatiousness whatsoever.
“Okay,” he smiles. “I’ll do that.”
Alice is just about to ask him to tell her more about Rachel Danbury, when Joe appears in front of her. “Darling,” he says, “I’m catching the five-thirty death train tomorrow morning so we need to make a move.”
“Okay.” Alice stands up and starts to say her good-byes.
“So what did you think?” Alice lowers her book and waits for Joe to come out of the bathroom.
“It was lovely.”
“It was, wasn’t it? Aren’t they a lovely crowd?”
“Very nice.”
“Who did you like the most?”
“Oh God, Alice. I need to go to bed. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”
“You won’t be here tomorrow. You’re in the city.”
“Exactly. Which is why I need to go to bed now.”
“Okay,” Alice says huffily as Joe switches off his bedside light and climbs into bed. He leans over and pecks her quickly on the cheek before rolling onto his side and closing his eyes.
“Joe?” Alice whispers five minutes later, but Joe doesn’t answer, already half asleep, drifting away in a fantasy involving Kay, a tennis court, and a hot summer’s day.
Alice is woken by a combination of the shrill ringing of the telephone and Snoop licking her face and crying to go outside.
“Shit.” A quick glance at the clock tells her it’s eight thirty-four, and poor Snoop’s bladder is probably about to explode.
She runs to the phone, grabs it, and cradles it under her chin as she runs down the stairs, heading straight for the back door and opening it as Snoop runs outside and immediately relieves himself next to the fence.
“Hello. You sound out of breath. Are you having sex or something?” Emily’s voice is loud and clear, and distinctly amused.
“I wish,” Alice laughs. “Actually it’s far more exciting. I’m out of breath due to running down the stairs and letting Snoop out before he pees all over the hardwood floors.”
“What a glamorous life you lead,” Emily snorts.
“So do you want to know what I can see right now?”
“Dog pee?”
“Aside from dog pee.”
“Go on, make me jealous.”
“I can see a bright blue sky, hundreds of tall trees, the sun shining and, hang on . . .”
“Hang on why?”
“Hang on because I’m walking round the back of the house. Oh yes, here we are. I can see the sunlight glistening on the water of my own private pond.”
“God, you make me sick.”
“So where are you? Brianden or London?”
“Well, here’s what I can see out my window. Wow! There’s a car with a smashed window and glass all over the pavement, and, hang on, yup, a homeless person slouched in a doorway, and is that, could that be, yes, you’ll never believe it but there’s actually rubbish blowing along the pavement.”
“So you’re in London then?”
“Apparently, yes. Although God knows why. On a miserable day like today I should be holed up in Brianden with a good book and a lovely roaring fire.”
“What about a fiery roaring lover?”
“Would that be young Harry to whom you’re referring?”
“I don’t know,” Alice grins. “Is he a fiery roaring lover?”
“I’m not sure he’s very fiery, and he doesn’t do much roaring really, but he’s definitely a lover, and a lovely one at that.”
“Does that mean it’s true love?”
Emily’s voice turns serious. “I think that I probably do love him, but is he the one? That I don’t know.”
Alice is shocked. “That sounds like a change of tune. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. He’s lovely, and we’re fine, I just don’t know whether this is it. Actually I’m not even sure it matters really. I sort of feel that I’m enjoying myself today, and I do believe that everyone comes into our lives for a reason, and that clearly there are lessons I need to learn from him, and it either will work out or it won’t, but either way that’s fine.”
“Em, that doesn’t sound like you at all.”
“Maybe I’m just growing up when it comes to relationships. I’ve always leapt in before, and I’m just learning to take each day as it comes. Anyway, more to the point, we were talking last night and both of us could really do with a holiday, and we were thinking . . .”
“Come and stay! You have to come and stay!” Alice practically shouts into the receiver as Emily starts to laugh.
“We were hoping you’d say that. I miss you desperately, and besides, neither Harry nor I have any money, so basically it’s either a bucket flight to New York and free bed and board with you, or a package deal to Birmingham.”
“Oh, actually, if that’s the choice maybe Birmingham would suit you better.”
“And maybe Harry won’t demonstrate his spectacular carpentry skills in your country home.”
“Are his carpentry skills spectacular?”
“Well, I’m sitting on a window seat that he made, looking at my new bookshelves, which he knocked together in an afternoon.”
“And you’re still not sure he’s the one? Are you nuts?”
“There’s more to marriage than window seats and bookshelves.”
“And animal-loving.”
“Yes, and even animal-loving.”
“Not much more.”
“Can we not get into this now?”
“Okay, sorry, sorry. But you realize I will have to steal you away and quiz you mercilessly while you’re here?”
“Yes, yes, I know, it’s the price I have to pay.”
“Oh, Em! I’m so excited. When are you thinking of coming?”
“Well, what are you doing for Christmas?”
“Christmas? But Christmas is years away! I thought you meant you’d be coming next week.”
“But it’s practically November already, and Christmas is only nine weeks away. It’s almost next week.”
“You’re right, I’m just getting excited. We can go to the Christmas tree farm and choose a tree together, and we can make decorations, and we’ll have so much fun!”
Emily shakes her head in disbelief. “Ali, I know you know this, but I’m no longer twelve years old.”
“So? Christmas is going to be wonderful! Oh, I’m so excited.”
“Do you want to check it’s okay with Joe?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, he’ll be thrilled.”
“We thought maybe we could come in around Christmas Eve and maybe stay until New Year’s, but we’d like to spend a couple of days in the city as well, take in a show and hit the sales . . .”
“I thought you said you didn’t have any money?”
“I don’t, but when Banana Republic calls, Banana Republic calls. So what do you think?”
“I think you’ve just given me the best Christmas present I’ve ever had.”
“Don’t get too excited, we’re not there yet. Who knows, we may have a horrible time.”
“Absolutely not possible. Tell Harry I can’t wait to see you both. Bugger, who’s that?”
“Who’s what?”
Alice crosses her arms as a big black Suburban rolls down the driveway. “I’m standing here in my pajamas,” she whispers to Emily, “and someone’s here in a monster of a car and I have absolutely no idea who it is and I can’t just run inside without looking like a complete idiot.”
“What kind of pajamas? Thick winceyette or sexy floaty see-through chiffon ones?”
“Sexy floaty see-through chiffon ones? Who do you think I am, Barbara Windsor? I bloody hope the
y’re not see-through, although they are thin cotton.” Alice folds one arm protectively over her chest as she tries to see through the tinted windows of the car as it rolls to a halt.
“I’d better go,” she says to Emily, as James climbs out of the car with book in hand and a large smile on his face, unable to believe his luck in catching the lovely Alice in such revealing pajamas. He knew she had a great body, but he didn’t think it was quite this great.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Alice whispers, with a fake smile and a wave to James. “Lots of love.”
Five minutes later Alice manages to escape upstairs for her dressing gown, coming back down feeling far less vulnerable as she puts the kettle on to make coffee for James.
“I hope I haven’t called at a bad time,” James says, leaning forward on the stool to rest his elbows on the kitchen counter. “I was worried I would forget so I put the book in the car this morning and thought I’d drop it in early on my way to work. Where’s Joe?”
“Oh, he took the five-thirty train this morning.”
“That is such a killer. I can’t understand these men who make that commute. Particularly when they leave such lovely wives at home.”
Alice chooses to ignore that last statement. “So where do you work?” she asks politely.
“Do you know Sunup?”
“The garden center?”
“Yup. The nursery. That’s mine.”
“Really? I had no idea. I’m in there all the time. I’ve never seen you there.”
“Unfortunately, this time of year I’m mostly doing admin work, hidden away in my office, but next time you’re in you’ll have to knock on the door and come say hello.”
Alice thinks back to what Gina had said and smiles to herself.
“You don’t look like a gardener,” she says.
“Oh, really? What are gardeners supposed to look like?”
“Aren’t they supposed to have mud-encrusted boots and dirt under their fingernails?”
“You should see me in the summer. That’s exactly what I look like for seventy percent of the year. Kay hates it.”
Alice decides to change the subject. She moves the book over and looks at the cover, opens it and flicks through the first few pages. The inscription reads: “To Jackson, for holding my hand down the road.”