What is it Beamish? Agnes is better and coming back to work?
‘Ah. Well, I have to say you’ve been doing a damn fine job since poor old Agnes was taken ill. Yes, damn fine job indeed....Hmmm...’ He stands there, still looking very happy.
For God’s sake man, I’m thinking. Get it over with.
‘Yes, Beamish?’ I say, a trifle impatiently by now.
‘Ah. Yes. Well, I’ve found you some help. Only while we’re without Agnes, of course.’
Oh fuck. My heart sinks. Into my boots and out through my heels. He thinks I’m useless. Incompetent even. Oh buggering hell.
‘Um, now I don’t want you to think that you’re not doing a good enough job. No, no. It’s not that at all. But a friend of mine has a daughter, who’s, er, um, let’s say, a little out of sorts at the moment, so I’ve offered her a part-time job giving you a hand. Jolly good eh?’
Great. So as well as a stroppy chav, I have a troubled girl. Probably a pregnant teenager with hormones coming out of her ears. Who’s been done for shoplifting or granny-bashing and who I’ll have to keep an eye on every second of the day.
Beamish interrupts my thoughts. ‘Ah. Just the ticket. Here she is.’
He turns to look at the door, and following his eyes, so do I.
She’s pregnant alright, but she’s no teenager. In fact, I can’t believe this is happening.
You could have knocked me down with a feather. Quite literally. To be fair, Karina looks as uncomfortable as I feel.
The first thought that comes to mind is, what the fuck is she doing in my office? Don’t up-the-duff-lady-pilots get given terribly specialised ‘ground duties’ in one of their flight report centres or uniform stores or something? Or cleaning loos maybe.
At the party where we almost met, I’d been out cold before I could register that far from being the Scandinavian blonde of my frenzied imaginings, her hair is a similar shade of mouse to mine and she’s my height too, but that’s where the similarities end. This girl has stunning, model-type facial features, eyelashes like a jersey cow and exudes in spite of everything, a quiet confidence.
My bumbling boss chooses this moment to make his exit. Maybe he’s not as daft as I thought.
‘So, well, erm I’ll leave you two girls to it, shall I? Um, jolly good…’
And when I look round, he’s gone. As if vapourised into thin air.
I’ve never had to think so quickly in my life, because whether I want Arian or not, having Karina here in my office is definitely weird.
I hold out my hand. ‘I’m Louisa.’
Karina holds out a beautifully manicured hand that obviously hasn’t had too much to do with horses lately.
‘Hello,’ she says, in a very posh sort of voice. Slightly stand offish but at least slightly, if reluctantly friendly-ish.
‘Well, this is a bit of a surprise,’ I say, buying myself some time while I figure out how to deal with this.
There’s a deathly silence which is so heavy, you can almost see it.
‘I mean, I take it you know I was married to Arian? Before, you know...’ I nod my head towards her stomach, which looks pregnant, but quite small still. No point in beating around the bush, I’ve decided very quickly. This is my territory, after all.
She looks somewhat discomfited. ‘I had a feeling it was you.’ She’s silent, then adds, ‘This wasn’t my idea. Just so you know.’
‘Oh.’ I know I no longer care about Arian in that sense, but this still feels supremely odd. It’s like making a huge mistake that you’d rather forget, only to find that just as you do, some joker’s tattooed it across your forehead while you weren’t looking. So, okay. Maybe I’m exaggerating again, but this really is deeply strange.
‘Well,’ I eventually say, because whatever she’s done, there is a mountain of work we need to get to. ‘I better show you what needs doing round here. Apart from flying big aeroplanes, what other experience do you actually have?’ Slightly more sarcastically than I intended.
Karina obviously notices and doesn’t answer straight away. There’s an awkward silence. ‘None.’
I immediately jump in with, ‘Well, it’s only an office. No added complications of rudder pedals. Or joysticks…’ I just can’t help myself. ‘Got to be easier than flying. Here. We need to check if these invoices have been paid.’
It would probably be quicker if I just did it myself, but I have to give her something to do. Painstakingly I go through what’s required.
‘It was actually Beamish who asked my mother if she knew of anyone who might be able to help out for a while.’ Karina says stiffly, in an attempt to justify her unwanted presence. ‘I have to say I wasn’t exactly happy when she told me. After all, I should have had a ground job with the airline.’
Why is she telling me this? I didn’t ask and I don’t need to know. So I add a week’s worth of filing to the pile of invoices on her desk and point her in the direction of our client records.
Once she’s got the hang of it, I leave her to it. It’s hardly rocket science, after all and she can’t be stupid. She’s a pilot isn’t she? Just like my ex-husband. And then I realise the irony of my thinking.
It’s even more ironic when Marcus pops in mid-morning, because honestly, he just never does that. Mostly he’s out from dawn to dusk and I never see him. And so I take great pleasure in introducing them.
‘Ah, Marcus. I’m so delighted that you’re here.’ From which he’ll immediately guess I’m taking the piss about something.
‘I’d like to introduce you to Karina. She’s um, helping out while Agnes isn’t well. Isn’t that kind of her?’
God. I sound just like Beamish. Karina meanwhile, is giving me the evils.
Marcus looks at me, for a split second longer than is strictly necessary, then turns to Karina with a beaming smile.
‘Delighted to meet you,’ he says, very nicely. With one of his loveliest smiles. Oh, ten out of ten Marcus. Very well done indeed.
Then as he’s walking out of the office, he glances back at me and says casually, ‘Oh Louisa, could you come with me for a moment. Only I’m in a hurry and I want to fill you in about some calls I need you to make for me.’
‘Terribly sorry,’ I say to Karina, over-apologetically, and scuttle out obediently after him. Relieved for the chance to escape if I’m honest and thinking thank you Marcus, for once inordinately glad that he’s around.
‘What on earth was all that about?’ he asks incredulously as soon as we’re out of earshot. ‘What the blazes is going on?’
‘One of Beamish’s great ideas,’ I reply bitterly, grateful that he’s concerned because I have a burning need to unburden myself to someone and if nothing else, Marcus is very good for unburdening on.
‘As if it’s not enough that I’m without Agnes, he has to dump this on me too. Thinks he’s being helpful.’
‘Oh God,’ says Marcus. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Fine,’ I say impatiently, because it’s the first word that comes to mind.
But I’m forgetting for a moment that Marcus is a man. The stupid arse actually believes me, then looks at his watch and gets in his car, leaving me standing there feeling abandoned as the Land Cruiser cruises purposefully out of the yard. But of course, horses take priority over everything.
Karina and I get as far as lunchtime, being frightfully polite to each other. But no further, because by then, I’m bursting with stuff I absolutely have to say to her.
I start quite cautiously. ‘Um, so, Karina, did you know Arian was married when you met him?’
By the time the words are out, I already can’t believe I actually said them.
Of course, she’s gobsmacked. Literally. Her mouth is wide open. When she’s got over the shock, she appears to consider her reply.
‘When I first met him, no. That’s the truth,’ she says.
Ha. Okay. So then what?
‘We got to know each other a bit,’ she continues cautiously. ‘I have to say, Louisa, that
when I found out he was married, I was shocked. I told him it was over. I’m not in the habit of stealing other women’s men.’
But you went ahead anyway, I think triumphantly. You betrayer of the sisterhood, you husband-stealer.
She sighed. ‘Truth is, I found out I was pregnant before I found out about you.’ She raises earnest eyes towards me. ‘I’d like you to believe me, but in your shoes, well I understand. I’d probably feel the same. And then, well, he was very persuasive and I wanted my child to have a father. He told me you never wanted children, so it seemed that I was giving him something you couldn’t.’
I’m speechless. It’s no secret that I’ve always wanted children. Somehow containing an explosion of indignance inside me, I make myself stop and think, because two things are jumping out at me. More than ever, I don’t want Arian back, but secondly, however much I don’t like it, I’m believing every word she says.
At this point, it seems only right that I enlighten her and so I tell her that actually, he’s been telling both of us porkies.
‘Actually Karina, I did want children. Funnily enough, that’s why we moved into a three bedroom family sized home complete with family sized garden. Don’t be too sure that you can believe everything that man says to you.’
Karina leaves shortly after that. Thankfully Beamish has only asked her to do mornings.
After my last outburst, all she says is ‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ in a quiet, dignified sort of voice, as she walks out of the office.
I feel a little deflated when she’s gone. Truth is, I honestly don’t want Arian back. I know I keep saying it and it sounds like I’m trying to convince myself. But nor can I let her off scot-free either. It doesn’t feel right.
Without the added stress of Karina lurking in the background, I manage to catch up on a huge volume of work, and am amazed to find that by five thirty, I can actually go home, but not before Mrs Boggle makes an appearance. It looks as though the pudding basin hairdo has had a tweak, and from under the mid-forehead fringe, she gives me one of her deeply sympathetic looks. From that I assume that she knows all about Karina, especially when she does one of her deeper sighs and asks me how I am.
‘I’m fine Mrs Boggle, thank you for asking,’ I reply, a trifle surprised to say the least, because mostly all she ever says is, ‘Evenin’ lovey. I’ll lock up, alright?’ before walking off to the men’s bog with her bucket.
I’ve hardly seen Zac, who Sam appears to have taken completely under his wing. Paris has been down to check him out. Canary coloured jodhpurs, long suede boots (new ones) and Katie Price hair again. She changes its colour so often it’s a wonder it doesn’t drop out. The man-radar’s obviously in good working order though. Not that Zac fits her normal category of victim. Or maybe she fancies a bit of rough. Zac didn’t look too impressed. I caught him muttering something about ‘stuck up bitches’ under his breath when he thought no-one could hear him - unless he was talking about me.
Beckham has been mooching around the yard, still looking sorry for himself, but definitely on the mend. He’s out there now, so before I go and collect Elmer, I go over and stroke him. He quivers slightly, like a little cat purring, but doesn’t move away. He’s quite a sweet dog, no trouble at all which is more than I can say for mine. I can hear her now, whining jealously in the stable.
Zac comes over. He’s caught the sun, and looks only marginally less distrustful as he stares at me.
‘How are you getting on?’ I ask him. ‘Hope Sam isn’t too much of a slave driver?’
‘S’okay...’ he says, after thinking about it. ‘Sam’s a good bloke.’
He snaps his fingers and Beckham’s at his side in an instant, tail wagging feebly in spite of his woes.
I’m impressed, and I tell him.
Zac looks embarrassed. ‘S’trainin’, s’all,’ he says, and he and Beckham slope off together in search of Sam.
When Elmer and I get home, I call Beamish for news of Agnes. There’s no reply so I leave him a message. Then I go and tell Horace how much I love him and kiss his noble face, and then a car screeches to a halt on the road, and there’s the sound of male footsteps as they stomp round the side of my cottage.
‘Louisa!’
Arian. And what is he sounding so cross about?
‘What’s this rubbish you’ve been telling Karina? You’ve upset her terribly. I really would have thought better of you.’
Oh. He’s such an arsehole.
‘Okay Arian,’ I say calmly. ‘What rubbish would that happen to be? Oh, I know,’ I say, suddenly pretending to be enlightened. ‘You mean, about me not wanting children? But that’s your rubbish, not mine. I think you’re getting confused, pal. It was you who told her the rubbish, not me.’
He stares at me, looking really pissed off. Not a pretty look. And to think I used to think him handsome.
‘I suspect it’s you who’s upset at being found out, rather than her. Are there any other lies I should know about?’ I say coolly. ‘As Karina and I are going to be sharing an office for a while, it would seem. We’ve plenty of opportunities for nice girly chats.’
Arian clearly knows he’s in the wrong. As he turns to leave, I shout after him, ‘And don’t forget to go and see Pete.’
I hear him slam his car door so hard it’s a wonder it doesn’t fall off. Serve him jolly well right if it did.
After that little interlude, it’s definitely time for a glass of wine. Tonight, I tell myself, I deserve it. And then Emma’s coming over for supper. I’ve made pumpkin soup. And I also need to check the state of play where Jerome is concerned.
Emma turns up late, tired. Apparently she went straight to the hospital when she finished her calls. Just like I was, she’s shocked at Agnes’s appearance.
‘She looks so frail, Lou. Really poorly. Apparently the peritonitis has resulted in blood poisoning and it must be quite severe. They’re treating her with antibiotics, but her organs are affected. It’s really bad.’
Then she tells me Beamish was there, looking very anxious. He was still there when she left, too. And apparently Agnes’s daughter had visited, so that’s a good thing.
I tell Emma about my day.
‘Beamish breezed in bright and early with a little surprise for me,’ I tell her. ‘He’s found me someone to help out in the office.’
‘Oh that’s fantastic,’ says Emma. ‘At least it will take the pressure off you a bit.’
I raise my eyebrows and give her a look. ‘Erm, not exactly, Em. You see, of all the people he could have found, it just so happened that he picked Karina.’
‘NO...’ Emma can’t believe it. Her face is a picture. ‘Not, THE Karina... Oh Lou…’
‘It’s okay, Em. I coped. The bit that really pisses me off is finding out about the lies Arian’s been telling her. Latest one is how I didn’t want children. And goodness knows what else. I’ll probably find out in due course.’
Then I crinkle up my face as I realise that for some bizarre reason, I’d be more inclined to believe Karina than Arian. Obviously he’s a pathological liar as well as a two-timing, philandering rat. I’m well shot of him. I’m quite glad in the circumstances, that it’s not me having his baby after all.
‘Lou...?’
‘Oh, sorry Emma. I was miles away. Just adding bloody liar to my list of Arian’s less desirable personality traits, just in case I’m ever tempted to feel sorry for myself. How’s Ben, by the way?’
Emma beams beauteously at me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that mushy about anyone – except maybe Horace…
‘It’s wonderful,’ she says serenely. ‘We’re just so well matched! I don’t want to harp on, you know, but I’m so happy...’
I glug a huge mouthful of wine and wait for it to take the edge off the cavern of emptiness I suddenly feel inside me.
‘I’m glad for you Em,’ I say, truthfully. And I mean it. Emma and Ben will be joining the ranks of the smug marrieds before long, I can see it coming. Emma resplendent i
n flowing white, her blond locks crimped into pre-Raphaelite curls and Ben, tanned and handsome in a grey morning suit. They’ll walk out of the church together holding hands, and ride off into the sunset, man and wife, on two of his beautiful horses...
‘Lou..?’ she’s asking again. ‘Are you quite sure you’re alright?’
Damn, that soup’s boiling, it’ll be ruined.
‘Fine, honestly. Just tired. And hungry. Shall we eat?’
We have walnut bread with my soup, which turns out not to be ruined after all. Then Emma’s phone makes a funny little noise which makes her jump and as she looks over at me to see if I’ve noticed, she goes just slightly pink.
I look straight at her. ‘Emma! You’re not still getting them! You promised you’d try.’
Then I add for good measure, ‘Ben will think you’re on drugs again…’
And he’ll call the wedding off. No galloping off into the sunset for Emma with the scrumptious Ben. Oops. Nearly forgot. There isn’t actually a wedding - as yet…
After supper, she leaves early. It’s just as well, because after Karina, then Arian and now Emma’s problem resurfacing, I’m exhausted.
I’m sound asleep by ten o’clock. No midnight gremlins for me tonight. If they come anywhere near, I’ll set my dog on them. But I don’t need to worry. I awake only when my alarm shatters my blissful dream, in which I’m riding Horace through miles and miles of woods and fields. And I lie there for a moment, wishing if only real life could be that simple.
24
Early starts are now my new routine. I’m determined to gather my wits about me before Karina’s arrival, so I whizz through the diary, then check the answerphone before organising the calls.
Zac’s in the yard, laughing at something with Sam. Gracious, is Zac sleeping here too, I wonder with astonishment. And Beckham’s out there too, looking much stronger. And as the phone rings, Karina walks in and I’m instantly back on my guard.
She’s wearing a soft jersey top that clings in all the right places, even with her bump, with expensive looking jeans. Even pregnant, she makes me feel like a frump. We steer away from controversial subjects this morning. As she quietly gets on with the work I give her to do, I answer the calls that are coming in relentlessly. There’s a brief lull, fortunately just as the vets appear, but as they leave, it rings again. This time it’s Beamish.
The Impossible Search for the Perfect Man Page 14