‘Elizabeth?’ came the startled response.
‘I have something very important to say about Elizabeth. She’s come here in a very unhappy state.’
‘What do you mean – here? My daughter’s in Exeter.’
‘No. She’s with me now and she’s quite distraught, and that’s not a good thing in her condition.’
There was a moment’s pause, as Violet obviously took in the significant phrase.
‘Condition?’
‘Your daughter is pregnant, and she didn’t know how to tell you, when you were so angry.’
‘Pregnant?’ Violet sounded stunned, ‘You’re saying that my daughter is pregnant?
‘Yes. She’s here with me now.’
Violet’s voice was faint. ‘Why didn’t she say? Why didn’t she tell me? She knows how important it is. We’ve all been waiting - hoping…’
‘She wanted to talk to you. She wanted to be with you. I can’t believe you would have treated her as you did, if you had realised. But if you don’t want her there, I’ll make up a bed for her tonight.’
‘Stuff and nonsense,’ said Violet Webb, sounding to Julie like the Red Queen. ‘She must come back here at once. She shouldn’t be chasing around the countryside in that state. I can’t understand why she didn’t tell me.’
‘She tried to tell you. You were very angry. You were angry about me and Richard. But Liz has nothing to do with that. And Richard and I are probably finished now anyway.’
‘My dear Julie. I’ve never heard such rubbish. He’s made it abundantly clear that his life is here with you. I can’t imagine why you’re giving up on him. He’s such a loving boy. And he thinks very highly of you.’
I’m no longer a threat, Julie thought. I don’t even matter to her any more. But she couldn’t help expressing the feelings that had buzzed through her head in the past few days.
‘I can’t believe that’s true, or he wouldn’t have let me go so easily. Maybe it’s better for all of us that we call a halt to it.’
‘Perhaps it’s you that’s given up too easily. Perhaps you just don’t care for him enough to try. I can tell you, when I met the man for me, I didn’t give up. Richard and Elizabeth wouldn’t be here today if I had.’ Her voice shook slightly. ‘And no-one can replace him.’
For a moment Julie was silent at the confirmation of what Liz had already said. The old girl was vulnerable, after all. And, perhaps without realising it, she had clung on to Richard as a replacement for his dead father.
Violet Webb’s voice softened for a moment.
‘My daughter - she is all right, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, she is,’ replied Julie.
‘Tell her to come back, here. I’ll go back to Exeter with her tomorrow. She must look after herself. This baby is too important to take chances.’
‘I’ll tell her.’
Julie put down the phone. She turned to Liz. ‘It’s all OK. You don’t have to stay here. She wants to take you home. Shall I call you a taxi?’
Liz was already gathering up her things.
They walked down the stairs together to wait for the cab. One or two people drifted through the open front door, greeting Julie as they passed.
‘Thank you for all your help, Julie,’ said Liz. ‘I do hope everything turns out all right between you and Richard. I’m sure you’ll be a good friend - and I hope, at some time, auntie to my little one.’
Julie looked down at her toes, avoiding Liz’s eyes.
‘I’m afraid there’s not much permanence amongst our crowd,’ she said, giving a casual wave in the direction of another party guest.
A motor cycle roared past, its black clad driver and passenger almost touching the ground, as it turned the corner. They slowed to a stop a few yards away and exchanged words before the passenger dismounted and started walking towards the house. Julie stared at the unknown figure, who walked past her through the doorway.
‘You see how it is,’ she said to Liz. ‘People arrive - I don’t even know them. We’re chopping and changing all the time. It seems like Sally’s cooking up plans to take over Richard and, as for me, well, there’ll be someone else.’
‘You don’t fool me, Julie,’ said Liz. ‘I don’t think you’re really so flippant. And as for Sally - she’s not right for him. Don’t give up on him.’
‘Look, there’s your taxi,’ said Julie, as a cab rounded the corner. She took Liz’s bag and walked to the roadside. ‘Take care of yourself - and that baby.’
Liz gave Julie a spontaneous hug before getting into the cab, and Julie waved as it moved away into the traffic. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the motor cycle which had just gone past pulling into a parking space further up the road, and the driver dismounting and adjusting the stand. She didn’t recognise the figure at all, and hoped that the two bikers did not represent trouble.
She climbed the stairs to the first floor, and went into the kitchen. Someone had left a bottle of wine on the kitchen table, with a vaguely familiar motif. She took a closer look and, to her astonishment, saw emblazoned on the label, ‘J loves R’.
‘That’s my bottle of wine,’ she exclaimed.
Chapter 13: Wine and Roses
(Saturday night)
Julie was intrigued. Who was the present owner of the bottle of wine? She decided to get changed and join the party.
She went up to her room, found a black culotte skirt and top and wandered back downstairs to the kitchen. It was getting late and many of the regular Saturday night crowd had begun to arrive, bringing bottles and depositing them in the kitchen. Julie tucked away ‘her’ bottle into a corner, so that it would be unlikely to be anyone’s first choice. She looked around, but saw no clue as to its donor. How could it possibly have travelled from Barry’s house, where Frank and Janet had taken it? She couldn’t imagine either of her brothers coming to a party here. Neither of them had ever fitted in with her friends. Even as she pondered, she knew she would never get a satisfactory answer to the question.
The house was a typical town house with only two or three rooms on each floor, but it no longer bore the hallmarks of student accommodation. Nonetheless, many of the guests had graduated from that era - some from Julie and Sally’s art college days, wearing fairly outlandish arty crafty gear. Others were from the advertising agency where Sally now worked, and were casually smart, contrasting with Sally’s own individualist style, her shift-like garment dressed up with lots of chains around her neck and long earrings clinking backwards and forwards at each movement.
There were tureens of spaghetti with Bolognese sauce and Sally had left it to her friends to help themselves.
Julie stood, feeling rather disconsolate, ladling some pasta on to a plate, and thought again of the occasion, only a week ago, that she and Richard had shared a similar meal, before the unexpected arrival of his mother.
A woman came into the kitchen, carrying a heavy crash helmet. Her auburn hair was untidy and she wore a masculine leather jacket.
Julie tensed, realising that this was the stranger she had seen downstairs. She cast a chilly look in the intruder’s direction. They were always concerned at the possibility of gatecrashers but, when the woman spoke, her voice was gentle and pleasant. ‘Is there somewhere I can tidy up and leave these things?’
‘Of course. I’ll take you to one of the bedrooms. Are you a friend of Sally or Sue?’
‘Sally,’ murmured the woman, as Julie led the way to a bedroom. ‘My name’s Elaine.’
Julie introduced herself, found a space for the crash helmet and leather jacket and stood whilst Elaine patted her hair into place.
‘My - friend, Stephen Fairdene - he’s parking the bike,’ Elaine continued. ‘He’s Sally’s brother.’
Julie thought about the other biker she had seen. ‘Saville Row suits,’ she murmured.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘It’s OK - just thinking aloud. I’m sorry. I must have seemed a bit unwelcoming earlier. It’s just that you have to
be so careful here in central London. Strangers can come into a party and start circulating drugs and all sorts.’
They wandered back into the kitchen.
‘Of course. And I can assure you I didn’t lace the bottle of wine with LSD or anything.’
‘Bottle of wine?’ queried Julie.
‘Yes. I put it down here - oh someone’s moved it. Not that it was anything special; just a bottle of plonk.’
‘Funny you should say that. It was rather special actually,’ said Julie, taking the bottle from its corner. ‘You see it was my wine. I mean it was before I gave it to someone - look, see my initials and my boyfriend’s – “J loves R”.
‘Well, that bottle certainly must have been around,’ smiled Elaine. ‘Now I come to think of it, my dad said he won it at a tombola. And now it’s back to you.’
‘It seems almost like a sign from someone up there. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll hide it away again.’
A noise erupted from the entrance hall below. It sounded like an argument. The two women exchanged glances. Raised voices were followed by the thud of someone falling heavily. Then a plaintive squeak from the hostess, ‘You idiots - that’s my brother.’
Julie and Elaine left the kitchen to meet Sally and a bruised Stephen climbing the stairs to the landing.
Elaine looked horrified at the emerging black eye.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked.
‘You should have seen the other guy,’ said Stephen with a good-natured laugh. ‘I don’t think much of Sally’s greeting though. Sending the heavy mob to sort me out.’
‘They thought you were a gatecrasher. Who can blame them? What’s all this leather gear for?’ Sally asked.
‘Elaine and I are wearing the correct protective clothing for travelling on a motor cycle,’ replied Stephen with dignity.
‘You’re not still riding a motor bike! You could afford a Porsche!’ exclaimed Sally.
‘This is not just a motorbike. It’s the motorbike. When I give up riding my Harley Davidson, you’ll know I’ve reached middle age.’
‘We ought to do something about your eye, Stephen,’ Sally said. ‘There’s a nasty gash at the side. Julie’ll sort it out for you. She knows all about first aid.’ She glanced around the room to see who else was coming in. ‘Sorry, I didn’t introduce you. Though it’s a bit late now. Julie, my flat-mate; Stephen, my brother.’
Julie didn’t think much of the welcome Sally was extending to her brother, who had been out of the country for years, but he seemed a nice guy. She smiled at him. ‘Come into the kitchen, and I’ll bathe your eye, Stephen.’
Sally turned to Elaine, who was hovering, ‘And I’m afraid I didn’t catch the name of your biker friend.’
‘This is Elaine,’ said Stephen, ‘She’s the editor of a woman’s mag. What’s it called, Elaine? Upfront Woman?’
‘Forward Woman.’
Sally looked impressed. ‘Really? Their art work is so good. Look, you must come and meet some of my friends from art college. They’ve got all sorts of ideas.’
And Sally had ideas too, thought Julie, as she sat Stephen down in the kitchen and observed Elaine being led, rather reluctantly, away. Ideas about Julie and Stephen. Ideas about Richard and Sally.
Stephen smiled at Julie, ‘I feel embarrassed to be on the receiving end of this tender loving care,’ he said, as Julie wiped away an antiseptic tear that ran down the side of his face. ‘Won’t your boyfriend object?’
‘He’s not around at the moment. We have a problem. A mother.’
Stephen almost had to shout as the general hubbub from the other room rose before subsiding again.
‘Did you say “another”? Another woman?’
‘Yes. His mother.’
‘A formidable rival. It’s taken years abroad to separate me from mine. After all, it is the first intimate relationship that most men have.’
‘You’re a psychologist.’
‘No, a wine importer. I’m just interested in relationships. My mother always made it clear she preferred her two pretty daughters to her messy little boy. She didn’t seem to realise I was her greatest fan. I would have done anything for her. Well, at ten, anyway. Ouch, that stuff stings.’
‘Yes, eau de TCP. Not the most alluring of after-shaves.’ said Julie as the buzz of conversation once again drowned out the words.
‘Not stinks, stings,’ he repeated, laughing.
‘Sorry,’ said Julie, reaching in the first aid box for a plaster. ‘Be thankful my first aid doesn’t extend to tetanus jabs or penicillin in the backside. Well, at least your mother problems stopped at ten. Richard’s still having his.’
‘I wouldn’t say my problems were over then. It’s only since I’ve taken myself away from the scene and viewed it from across a stretch of water that I’ve been able to get it into perspective. All I’m saying is - don’t be too hard on your boyfriend. Don’t put him in a position where he has to make choices.’
‘You’re a nice man,’ said Julie, and patted the plaster on to the wound. ‘If Sally had introduced you to me before I met Richard, I’d have been seriously interested.’ She gave him a light kiss on the cheek.
‘Julie!’ There was an irate roar from the landing. They both turned.
Richard marched into the kitchen, his face dark and angry.
‘Richard. I didn’t know you were coming here.’
‘That’s obvious,’ he said, the words hardly able to escape from his gritted teeth. ‘What kind of a woman are you, Julie? You run away from what I thought was something special and in one week you’re flirting with someone else.’ He turned his attention to Stephen. ‘Who the hell are you?’
Those guests now overflowing onto the landing quietened down at this additional excitement. Elaine, hovering at the edge, looked concerned.
Stephen raised his hands to protect his face. ‘I can assure you I’m simply a patient here, with no wish to sustain any more injuries. Have English men got more aggressive since I left?’ he murmured half to himself. ‘Let me call my lady to verify. Elaine,’ he called, ‘Come and rescue me from an enraged lover.’
The spectators turned to watch with increased interest. Elaine came over, laughing, and Richard and Julie stood blushing with embarrassment at the attention.
‘We’ll leave you two to sort out your problems,’ said Stephen, getting up. ‘I have the feeling that we’re standing in the middle of an erupting volcano, and it’s not due to our stoking.’
Richard, his face now even more flushed, mumbled something, extending a hand to Stephen.
Stephen shook hands and gave Julie a peck on the cheek. ‘See you around some time. Get your crash helmet, Elaine. Let’s get the bike and go back to the dodgems. Sally’s parties are a bit too energetic for me.’
The couple linked hands and walked to the stairs.
‘I’ve never heard you get angry before, Richard,’ said Julie in a low voice. ‘Didn’t think I was that important.’
‘Not important? I’ve spent most of the week looking for you. And when I find you, you’re chatting up someone else.’
‘Don’t be angry, Richard. I wasn’t chatting him up; he was just a kind, understanding man. But I can’t understand why you couldn’t find me. Didn’t you realise I might be with Frank?’
‘Sally looked for the number, but she couldn’t lay her hands on it.
Julie glanced up, a slight smile on her lips. Another confirmation of Sally’s intentions.
‘And he’s ex-directory,’ Richard continued. ‘I tried your other brother several times, and it was always on answer-phone. There was a cryptic message like, “Barry and Linda are having fun. Please try later.”’
‘How strange,’ said Julie. ‘Fun’s not a word I’d associate with Barry and Linda.’
‘Well you try them if you don’t believe me,’ said Richard, still sounding angry. ‘I left lots of messages, but they didn’t reply. I only came tonight, because Sally said you were almost certain to be here.’
‘Did she?’ murmured Julie, ‘And, of course, she was right. Here I am. What about your mother? Did she tell you I rang?’
Richard glowered. ‘No, she did not. But in any case, she stopped talking to me after last Sunday.’
‘Why, what did you do?’
‘I moved out. I told her she was very welcome to stay in the flat as long as she wanted, but it wasn’t my intention to be there too. Then I moved into a hotel.’
‘You left her on her own?’
‘Look, I know her kind of moral blackmail. I couldn’t do much about it on Saturday night, could I? You thought I was being weak, but you weren’t entirely innocent. You were only too ready to be offended. You’d made up your mind to go before I could think it through.’
‘She was making me feel uncomfortable,’ Julie blurted out. ‘Deliberately.’
‘I understood that. That’s why I let you go. But I wasn’t going to let her win. At least - the battle, but not the war.’
‘Richard, can we stop being angry with each other?’
He smiled and his face relaxed. ‘Of course we can.’
‘Then I’ve got something to tell you. Your mother’s going home.’
‘Really? How do you know that?’
‘Your sister, Liz, has been here today. She came to London especially to take your mother home. And you’re going to be an uncle.’
Richard beamed with pleasure. ‘That’s great news.’
‘And your mother doesn’t care about us any more. This horrible week was all for nothing.’
‘What does that matter? We’re together now.’
‘Are we, Richard? Is our relationship strong enough?’
‘Julie. We can survive a few angry words. No-one can love you more than I do. Compared to that, what does a week matter?’
‘I thought I’d lost you,’ Julie said, his words bringing tears to her eyes. She was herself again in a moment; she had no reason to be tearful. ‘But you’re right. All I lost was a week. We could have had such a good time, though, if only you’d managed to get hold of me. We could have slept in a four-poster, with curtains all the way round. We could have had breakfast in bed. What fun we could have had. What a waste of the half term holiday.’
A Bottle of Plonk Page 12