Edmund shook his head. “Krystyna’s very depressed,” he said. “I’ve not seen her as bad as this before.”
“Has she seen a doctor?”
“Yes, he’s prescribed some form of medication. It’s not very strong – not strong enough, probably. But she won’t take Valium any more. She says it makes her feel like a cardboard cut-out.”
“Perhaps you should spend more time with her.”
“Perhaps. The fact is I no longer love her. There’s no reason for it – she’s a perfectly nice woman and she’s forgiven me completely for that affair I had ten years ago. But there it is.”
The waitress arrived with an opened bottle of red wine and a jug of water on a tray. She slid the tray carefully on to the small round table that separated them.
“I’ll be straight back with some glasses,” she said, stumping off again.
“Do you think that she knows about us?”
Edward’s blue eyes irradiated alarm. “Christ! What made you suggest that?”
“It’s not such an outlandish suggestion, is it? You may have been very careful, but it’s possible that she suspects something. After all, as you’ve just said, it’s happened before.”
“You certainly know how to hit below the belt, don’t you? You’re hardly whiter than white yourself. But no, I don’t think she does suspect. If her behaviour last time is anything to go by, she wouldn’t suffer in silence. She’d come straight out with it and accuse me.”
The waitress returned, bearing four glasses on her tray. She unloaded them slowly, one by one. She was obviously intrigued by the couple she was serving and took her time. Alex thought that she’d probably caught some snippets of their conversation.
“Thank you,” she said, as the woman hoisted the water jug aloft, “we can serve ourselves now.”
The waitress eyed her suspiciously.
“Would you like to taste the wine, sir?” she said to Edmund with almost ceremonial politeness.
“What? Oh, yes, I suppose so,” he replied distractedly. The waitress shot Alex a triumphant glance. Alex did not respond. She just wanted to be rid of the woman as soon as possible.
Edmund downed the splash of wine that he had been poured and set the glass back on the table. He was about to seize the bottle when he realised that the waitress was still hovering.
“Is it all right, sir?”
“Hmm? Yes, yes, thank you.” Edmund took the mock-leather pocketbook from her and signed the chitty. He placed two pound coins on top of it and closed it before handing it back to her.
“Thank you, sir.” The woman gave a curious little bob before she walked away. Alex could hardly believe her eyes; she realised that she had just witnessed a curtsey, albeit a brief one. She wished that it had been Tom sitting opposite her so that they could have shared the joke. Edmund seemed not to realise and she couldn’t be bothered to explain it to him.
“Will you have some of this?” he said to her now, waving the bottle at her.
“Just half a glass,” said Alex, her tone softer. His face was bleak. She regretted what she had said about Krystyna.
“What did you want to talk about?” said Edmund, swirling his wine in the glass. Alex sensed that he wanted to down it in one go and was trying to make himself wait for as long as possible before he did so.
“The business idea,” said Alex. She blurted it out quickly, knowing that if she thought about it too much she would chicken out of discussing it.
“You’re not getting cold feet, are you?” The words came out accusingly, rattled off one after the other like machine-gun bullets. “I sincerely hope not, because I’ve really stuck out my neck with the trustees so that you can do it.”
“I know that, and I’m very grateful,” said Alex more gently. “And no, I’m not getting cold feet. I just think we should take it slowly, that’s all. We both need to prepare for the busiest time of year at work and neither of us wants to let anyone down. I think we should start small, now that the trustees have agreed to it. Just do it in our own time, perhaps for a year or so. And I was wondering if it might not be better for me to go it alone at first just to see if it works. If it does, of course I should like you to join me later, as we’ve already said.”
Edmund put his head in his hands for a few seconds. When he raised his eyes to meet hers, he seemed close to tears.
“Whatever you say. I can alter the arrangement with the trustees now that it’s been broached. I’m sure that they will be very grateful to retain all of your official services for the summer. Just don’t give me the brush-off, that’s all. This means so much to me. You mean so much to me,” he added, a second too late.
“I can see that,” said Alex, not without irony. Apparently he did not pick up the edge in her tone.
“Besides,” said Edward. “There’s quite an important project that I’d like to get my teeth into. I want to do it on my own, if you don’t mind. When it’s finished, it can be a surprise for you. It will put the business on the map; that I do assure you.” He was suddenly animated, more fully engaged than she had ever seen him and also, she could see, fearful of what her reaction to this might be.
“That sounds very intriguing,” she said as archly as she could. “I’m not sure that I can wait to be surprised – I might die of curiosity before I find out what it is. Couldn’t you just give me a little clue?”
Edmund took in the new playfulness of her tone and immediately echoed it.
“No,” he said teasingly. “But I do promise you that I’ll start on it straight away, in order to keep you in suspense for as short a time as possible. I’ll start tomorrow, in fact. I’ll come to the Archaeological Society after work and begin then.”
Alex immediately felt uneasy, though she couldn’t explain why. All they were proposing to do was to catalogue boxes of flints and bones after all. What could be the harm in it?
“All right,” she said. “Just for an hour, though. I don’t want to be there too late tomorrow.”
“You could have a key cut for me if you like.”
“You know that I need permission from the trustees to do that.”
“Yes, of course. Don’t bother, then. An hour should be fine for making a start. And Alex?”
“Yes?”
“I know we’ve been going through a rough patch and I’m certainly not the world’s greatest lover, but I do love you. Please don’t take that away from me.”
Alex sighed. She was cold and tired and had no energy left to argue.
“All right,” she said, “but we shall have to see how it all works out – for both of us. And with Krystyna and Tom, as well.” She rose and put on her jacket. “Now, I really must get home,” she said. “And so should you.”
Edmund stood up and kissed her near to her mouth, but with closed lips. He sank back down into his seat again. He had drained the first glass of wine without her noticing and now poured himself another.
“And don’t sit here drinking until you’re not fit to drive,” she added.
He raised his glass to her.
“No,” he said, “I won’t.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The sun was shining when Alex awoke the next morning. She turned to face Tom and found that he was already awake, his arm propped up on his elbow. He smiled at her.
“Happy?” he asked. She nodded and thought to herself that, if it were not for her foolish entanglement with Edmund, it would have been the truth.
“I’m sorry I was late back last night,” Tom continued. “I half expected you to stay out for supper with Carolyn, so it was frustrating to get your message. I was tied up with the Padgett case again and you know that I can’t work nine to five on that.”
Alex nodded.
“There’s no need to apologise; I’d have stayed with Carolyn until halfway through the evening if she’d been free. She’s got
an exacting client at the moment, someone who insisted on meeting her for a working dinner at short notice.”
Tom burst out laughing.
“Is that what Carolyn calls her assignations these days?”
“It wasn’t an assignation. It was . . .” Alex frowned and found herself also laughing good-humouredly. “You could be right,” she said. “Who knows? I don’t think Carolyn is often deceitful, but she may have told me a little white lie to spare me the humiliation of being stood up. And she loves intrigue, as you know. She’s probably very amused that I was so gullible.”
Tom kissed her on the nose.
“I’m glad you’re gullible,” he said. “And so is Carolyn, probably. Have you noticed that she has no friends like herself? None of the rest of you runs her life in triplicate, carries on clandestine affairs and generally wraps her personal life in secrecy and double-dealing in the way that Carolyn does.”
“I suspect that none of us has either the energy or the talent for it!” said Alex, with a pang.
Tom kissed her again, then sat up and swivelled round so that his legs and feet were hanging out of the bed.
“I must get up,” he said. “I need to be back at the office by eight to read up the Padgett case notes before we have another meeting. It’s early, though; you don’t need to stir yourself yet. If you want to stay in bed a little longer, I’ll bring you some tea and toast.”
“That’s sweet of you,” said Alex, “but it would do me good to get up early, too. I intended to do some work over the weekend and I’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do if I’m going to get the plan for the summer displays ready for the committee later this week.”
Tom sniffed.
“I’d think they were a ridiculous bunch if I didn’t find them and their behaviour quite sinister. I don’t understand why you have to submit a plan to them. They never argue with it, do they?”
“No, but they could do, in theory. They’re meant to be responsible both for the safekeeping of the Society’s possessions and for its good reputation.”
“Rubbish! Its reputation isn’t what they’re thinking of. They just want to make sure that you choose something popular enough to replenish the coffers. Get their paws on the cash, in other words.”
Alex sighed.
“You’re probably right. I sometimes wonder why I’m wasting my life on this!”
Tom leaned over to kiss her again.
“No more mood swings!” he said. “You know very well that you get a huge kick out of your job. The same as I do.”
“Go and have your shower. I’ll just read in bed for a few minutes until you come out. Or would you like me to make you some tea?”
“Don’t worry. I can buy some tea and a muffin in the canteen.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Alex arrived at the Archaeological Society just before 8 a.m. She was carrying the bulky file that she had taken home the previous weekend. She tried to wedge it between her hip and the door while she fumbled in her bag for her keys, but the file slipped away from her and bounced down the two steps to the pavement. A few of the papers that it contained had not been secured and they slalomed untidily across the path. The furthest of them lay fluttering in the gutter.
“Fuck!” said Alex under her breath. She swung her open handbag over her shoulder and bent to retrieve the documents.
“Let me help you.”
Alex looked up to find Edmund standing over her. She blenched.
“Sorry – did I startle you?”
“Not really: I just wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“I said that I would come today.”
“I know, but I had thought that you would come this evening. You must have left Holbeach quite early.”
“I did. I’ve taken the day off because I wanted to come to see you this morning and I’m accompanying Krystyna to the doctor’s this afternoon.”
“Is she worse?”
“I don’t think so; but she was pretty bad in the first place. At least she’s seen sense and agreed to ask for some more powerful medication.”
“So you’re going with her in case she changes her mind?”
“Something like that,” said Edmund grimly. Alex did not pursue it.
Edmund collected the papers and lifted the file from the step.
“Here you are,” he said. “I’m afraid I can’t put the loose sheets back – I don’t know where they came from.”
“They were just held by a clip at the front of the file – not very well, obviously. Thank you,” she added, shoving the pages back between the boards of the file. “Would you hold it again while I unlock the door?”
“Tea?” she enquired, when they were both inside.
“No, thank you, I don’t have time. I need to go and look at some of the stuff that has been archived in Broad Street. I’ve come to ask you for the key.”
“This is a bit precipitate, isn’t it?”
“Why? I told you that I have a special project that I want to carry out. I give you my word that it will benefit both of us – and the Archaeological Society, too.”
“I’m not sure that I should let you have the key.”
“I don’t see why not. I’m the President, after all.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Alex paused for a moment. She was unhappy about giving Edmund access to the archive without quite knowing why. As he pointed out, he had more right than most people to request it. She decided that she couldn’t refuse.
“You’ll need the burglar alarm code, too. I’ll write it down for you. And I’ll have to ask you to complete our standard consent form for researchers. You must undertake not to remove or damage any of the Society’s artefacts or papers and to leave everything in the archive exactly as you found it.”
“That’s hardly necessary, is it? I am an officer of the society – even if only a temporary one.”
“So you keep saying, but we ask everyone to comply – as I’m sure you know. You’d be the first to complain if I allowed anyone else into the archive without signing. I’ll get you a copy of the form now; I’m sure you must have read it before, so it won’t take you a minute.”
“What if I do want to remove something – temporarily, of course?”
“We don’t normally let anyone take the artefacts away unless it is another society or museum that wants them for an exhibition. Individuals aren’t usually allowed to take them except for scientists who have been requested to carry out dating tests or experts asked to establish authenticity. We do let researchers take papers home with them sometimes, if there’s a lot for them to get through. Usually we only allow the material out for a very short time – a few days, or a week. They need permission – from me, and from one or more of the trustees, depending on what it is. They have to sign another document and pay for temporary insurance if we decide that it’s advisable. I’ve only allowed papers out two or three times, though. I don’t get asked very often. And I’ve never had to call on the trustees to give their permission for documents to be borrowed because the ones that have been requested have not been of great monetary value. Not many of the documents that the Society owns are. Some of the artefacts are valuable, of course; I’m sure that you’ve been at meetings where we have debated the risk factors involved in lending certain items.”
“I suppose I must have been. I don’t really remember. I’d certainly forgotten how bureaucratic it all was! And I thought that we were bad at the Heritage Foundation!”
“Well, you’d be the first person to say that we should safeguard our legacy, if it weren’t for the fact that this happens to be something that inconveniences you. I’ll walk over to Broad Street in a couple of hours, if you like, to see if there are any papers you’d like to borrow. If there are, it will probably be something that I can authorise myself. It is papers that you’re interested in, isn’t it?”
“Do you know what you’re looking for? Otherwise it will be a needle and haystack job. As long as you have a reasonable idea of what you want to find, the archive plan should help you. There is a copy of the plan inside the desk at the entrance to Broad Street, but I can give you one for your own use now. The lighting there isn’t very good, so it might help you to work out where to search while you’re still here.”
“Thanks. Yes please, I’d like to see the plan now.”
“I’ll find the consent forms at the same time.”
Alex stood precariously on her desk chair, trying to reach a pile of box files high on the shelves behind her.
“Can I help you with that?” Edmund asked rather lamely.
“Yes, if you would,” she said, as she struggled with recalcitrant folders for the second time that day. “I’m not sure which of these boxes contains the forms and the plans. I’m pretty certain that both will be in them somewhere. Can I pass them to you one by one?”
Edmund took the dusty boxes from her and piled them precariously on her desk.
“There’s one more file, up there on the top shelf, but I can’t quite reach it,” said Alex, stretching up. The chair moved and she nearly lost her balance.
“For goodness sake, come down now,” said Edmund pettishly. “I don’t want to be responsible for your breaking your neck. If we need that top file I’ll get it myself.”
Alex found the plan of the Broad Street archive almost immediately.
“Here you are,” she said to Edmund. “When you get there, you’ll see that the chapel has been divided into twelve stalls, each of which contains shelves and space for hanging files. Some of them have cupboards or pigeon-holes as well for storing bone tools and shards of pottery, that kind of thing. All of the papers have been filed meticulously under subject headings and there are card-indexes which catalogue each paper within collections of documents individually. Most of the cataloguing work was done in the 1950s, I believe by a retired schoolmaster who belonged to the Archaeological Society, and his wife. The papers are catalogued according to when they were received by the Society and where they came from. There is no proper dating of any of the artefacts, as you know, but some attempt has been made to record either where they were found or who donated them. Nothing has been moved since, but of course there have been some new acquisitions. Most of these are stored in the basement here – they haven’t been nearly as meticulously catalogued – but the final two stalls at Broad Street also contain some of the more recent uncatalogued material. Do you know how long the documents you are looking for have been in the Society’s possession?”
Almost Love Page 24