One Day In Summer

Home > Fiction > One Day In Summer > Page 11
One Day In Summer Page 11

by Shari Low


  ‘Would you like something to eat? There’s loads of cake left and I think the girls are in the kitchen – they could rustle something up for you.’

  ‘No, I’m fine, thanks, I’ve eaten.’ He hadn’t, but he couldn’t face anything right now. The indigestion in his gut was making him wince. ‘A coffee would be great though.’

  Aggs turned to the young guy at the counter. ‘Nasim, would you mind making a couple of Americanos for us please?’

  He responded with a wink and a thumbs up, making Aggs laugh.

  If Mitchell was a witness in a legal case and the lawyer asked him to sum up how Aggs seemed right now, he’d have to go with happy, relaxed, carefree, chilled. It was a long, long, time since he’d seen her like that. In fact, it reminded him of the Aggs he’d first met. She was twenty-four and doing the catering for an evening retirement function at the legal firm he’d been working for since he left uni. They’d got chatting at the end of the night and he’d been completely captivated by this young woman, who ran her family’s café during the day and then did freelance catering in the evenings. She was funny. Optimistic. A bright light that was the perfect contrast to his serious, stressful work in the legal system. Their romance had been a whirlwind. They’d met in the February and, in the June, Aggs fell pregnant. They married in a West End church and had the reception right here in the café. Back then it was called The Sanders, after her family name. Years ago, she’d given the place a major overhaul and changed the name to The Ginger Sponge and it was the perfect moniker for the warm, cosy haven she’d created.

  The place had such a comfortable, chilled atmosphere that Mitchell felt his shoulders drop a tiny notch. ‘Sorry if I interrupted something there.’

  ‘That’s okay. You didn’t really. He’s a… friend.’

  He chose not to air his observation that their actions made it abundantly clear they were more than just casual pals. ‘You don’t have to explain anything to me.’

  Aggs’ smile came with a pointed raise of the eyebrows. ‘I’m perfectly well aware of that, thank you.’ She was teasing him now and he realised he’d sounded like a pretentious arse. Fuck. Thankfully, she didn’t seem in the least bit bothered. ‘I’m going to tell the girls about him tonight though, so I’d appreciate if you didn’t say anything to them before I do.’

  Tonight? It was almost out of his mouth to ask why she was going to tell them at her party, but just in time, he caught himself. The celebration this evening was still a surprise. She thought she was going out with the girls for dinner.

  ‘Of course. I’m sure they’ll be happy for you.’

  ‘I think so too. And it’ll get Isla off my case about joining one of those dating apps. She keeps threatening to set me up on something called Your Next Date. I’m verging on terrified that she’ll go ahead and do it.’

  He found himself mirroring her smile, a defence mechanism to cover a fleeting, unexpected tug of surprise and protectiveness. When they’d first divorced, he’d told anyone who’d listen that he wanted Aggs to meet someone else. Now… well, it might just take a little bit of getting used to, that was all.

  There was a pause as Nasim delivered their coffees, and Aggs was the one to restart the conversation.

  ‘So tell me then…’ she said, her smile a little rueful, expectation lacing her words.

  He was caught off guard. ‘Tell you what?’

  She’d taken a sip of her coffee and was now cradling her cup under her chin. ‘Mitchell, you haven’t come here on my birthday for years, so either you have big news or there’s something you want to discuss about one of the girls. But I doubt it’s the latter, because you know they’re both here, and if it’s something awful I don’t think you’d have come on my birthday. Even you have a little more emotional intelligence than that.’

  She was teasing him again, but he let it go. In fact, if it wasn’t for the stress of the situation, he might even be enjoying the banter.

  He capitulated immediately. It was the reason he’d come, although up until that moment he’d no idea if he’d actually go through with telling her. Now his need to confide in someone he trusted was overwhelming and, yes, he completely grasped the irony of that thought. ‘I’m pretty sure Celeste is having an affair.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘I’m going to need more than coffee for this.’ She reached over and picked up a bottle of Prosecco from the middle of the table and refilled her glass. ‘Do you want some?’ she said, holding the bottle up.

  ‘No, I’m good. If I start, I might not stop and I need to drive today.’

  There was a pause as she absorbed the enormity of what he’d said. ‘I can’t believe it, Mitch. I mean, obviously I know she’s capable of it…’ Ouch, shots fired. He took the blow. It was the least he deserved. ‘But, well, to be honest, I can’t imagine her leaving you or your lifestyle.’

  Again, a truth, and again, it was deserved. Aggs had never cared about the financial benefits of his success. When they’d met, he was skint and knee deep in loans he’d taken out to get him through university. For several years they’d been paying them off, raising the kids, and they’d scraped together enough to buy a three bedroomed terrace house that might only have been half a mile away from where he lived now, but cost about £300,000 less, thanks to the less desirable postcode. Then he’d set up his company and there were a couple of lean years while he built it up. It was only in the last few years of his marriage that the big financial rewards had started to come in. Coincidentally, around the same time that a spark ignited between him and Celeste. And, no, he wasn’t foolish enough to believe there was no connection there, but back then he’d been in way too deep to see it.

  ‘What makes you think this?’ Aggs went on, and for a second he had to marvel at this woman’s capacity to care. She would be perfectly within her rights to laugh and tell him he deserved it, but that wasn’t Aggs. She put other people first, every time.

  He would never have a good excuse for the way he’d treated her, and there was absolutely no defence for his betrayal, but even Aggs would acknowledge that she was so busy caring for her mum, her dad, the girls, the café, that their marriage had ceased to be a priority. She looked at the situation as doing the best she could for the people she loved and she was absolutely right. Unfortunately, he’d been so shallow and self-centred that he’d viewed her lack of attention to him as a frustrating rejection and a blow to his ego that made him seek attention elsewhere. Unfortunately, he found it with his wife’s best friend. Back then it had actually pleased him that Celeste didn’t want kids because he knew he’d always come first. What a vile excuse for a human being he’d been.

  ‘I think she emotionally checked out of the marriage a while ago. Stopped taking an interest, started being a bit more secretive. She started staying out, going away for weekends… it was like a gradual withdrawal from us as a couple.’ He suddenly felt like a prize dick for relaying a list that could equally have applied to him when his marriage to Aggs was crumbling. ‘Look, is this okay, me telling you about it?’ he asked anxiously. ‘I know it’s messed up, but I feel like you’re the only person who would understand. And obviously it could affect the girls.’ He added the last one as a bit of an afterthought, but that didn’t make it less true.

  ‘No, it’s fine,’ she said with a kindness that he didn’t deserve. ‘But, you know, all that, it could be down to other things. Midlife crisis. Changing interests. Could even be the menopause and all the changes that come with that.’

  He shrugged, unconvincingly. ‘Could be…’

  ‘But?’

  Time to put all his cards on the table. ‘I know this is going to sound nuts, but I was at a function and she was on another table and the way she was behaving with the guy sitting next to her set off alarm bells.’

  ‘In what way?’

  Mitchell sighed, ran his fingers through his hair, torn about whether to spill it all and then doing it anyway. ‘The same way she acted towards me when I was married to you.’
<
br />   ‘Ouch,’ Aggs winced. ‘I want it known that I’m trying really hard to be non-judgemental here. The wine is helping.’

  ‘And then I followed her.’

  Aggs nearly choked on her Prosecco. ‘YOU WHAT?’

  Mitchell had never felt lower or more ridiculous. ‘This morning, I followed her. She told me she was going to yoga and then to a meeting with a new client, but she came out after her workout looking like she was ready for a catwalk and then went to a flash hotel…’

  ‘She has meetings in hotels all the time,’ Aggs interjected.

  ‘Yes, but then the same guy from the function turned up. Couldn’t miss him. He drives a neon yellow Maserati. Attention seeking much?’

  Aggs groaned, and he barrelled on.

  ‘It gets worse. Look, I’m not proud, but I had a look in the hotel restaurant and bar…’

  ‘What, like commando crawled round the place searching for them?’ Every word was steeped in incredulity.

  ‘Pretty much.’

  ‘Oh, Mitch…’ The incredulity turned to sympathy. Or maybe it was pity over how pathetic he’d become. He didn’t always get this stuff right, hence their divorce.

  ‘And there was no sign of them, so I’m pretty sure they must have been up in one of the bedrooms.’

  ‘You don’t know that for sure,’ she offered, unconvincingly.

  A rueful laugh escaped him. ‘Call it intuition.’

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ Not a trace of triumph or smugness there and a shocking thought flashed to the front of his mind. What the fuck had he been thinking when he left this woman for someone who wasn’t a patch on her?

  ‘I don’t know. I’m not going to go storming in and confront her yet. She’ll deny it and I’ll be no further forward. I think I need to take a more strategic view. Gather a bit more proof.’ This was his marriage and he was talking about it like it was one of his cases. Perhaps that was the only way he could deal with it. ‘I just wanted to know what you thought.’

  Aggs took another sip of her wine and then matched his gaze. ‘Because I’ve been where you are now?’

  His whole body sagged. ‘I’m sorry, Aggs. For this, for everything. What I did to you was unforgivable and I know how lucky I am that you’ve found a way to make our fractured family work all these years…’

  ‘I did that for the girls,’ she said calmly. ‘And by imagining you with electric probes on your man bits.’

  He didn’t know whether to laugh because she was funny, or cry because she was being so fricking decent by trying to lighten the moment. ‘But I’m here because I trust you, and because… because, to be honest, you’re my oldest friend and I needed to get an outside opinion from someone who knows both of us well. So what do you think? Am I being a paranoid stalker, or could she be having an affair?’

  Aggs pushed her wine glass forward, then flopped her head on the table. ‘Aaaaargh!’

  Emotionally intelligent or not, even he could sense that probably wasn’t good.

  A few seconds passed before she raised her head again.

  ‘Look, I don’t want to get in the middle of you two and it’s none of my business…’

  ‘I know…’

  ‘And if you tell her you spoke to me about this I’ll be on Amazon and ordering those electric probes before you can say “smouldering pubes”…’

  ‘I hear you,’ he said, involuntarily crossing his legs.

  ‘But, given what you’ve told me, I’d say it’s a definite possibility.’

  He let out a low, painful, ‘Fuck.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ and, to her credit, she genuinely did look like she was concerned for him. ‘I really hope I’m wrong,’ she went on. ‘But, to be honest, when it comes to Celeste, you had me at the neon yellow Maserati.’

  15

  Agnetha and Celeste – 1997

  Celeste opened the washroom stall door, checked that no one was outside at the sinks, then stepped aside to let Mr UCLA sneak out before he was spotted loitering in the ladies’ toilets. She’d already forgotten his name. It had been a quick shag and she’d orgasmed, so she was perfectly satisfied, but she was done with it now. Over it. In fact, she was done with this whole Vegas trip. What a blowout Zac had turned out to be. How fucking dare he ditch her like that? One minute he was all over her, introducing her as his ‘model girlfriend from the UK’ like she was Kate bloody Moss or something, and the next he was blowing her off because some actress snapped her fingers.

  Meanwhile, she was having to deal with love’s young dream, who were probably still in that cabana sucking the faces off each other. How boring was that? They were going home in a few days and Agnetha would never see that guy again, yet she was wasting every minute they had left in Sin City by sticking to him like glue instead of doing stuff with her.

  Celeste washed her hands, threw water on her face, then ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back so that it was off her face. It was a good look on her. Highlighted her bone structure and her eyes. Several years of modelling had taught her how to maximise her assets and they definitely worked for her.

  She turned to the side to check her profile and the silhouette of her body. Boobs a natural 34D, stomach completely flat, ass round, the perfect size for lingerie, swimwear and catalogue work. That’s what a balanced diet of Marlboro lights, black coffee, Diet Coke and vodka tonic did for you.

  The thought of her job made her smile. Since she’d moved to London she’d been working in a bar while trying to make it on the modelling circuit. At the start it was slow, but in the last year it had picked up some momentum and she was getting put forward for some fairly decent jobs now. On Tuesday, the day before they’d travelled from LA to Vegas, she’d called her agency in London to say that she’d soon be back, and the head booker, Valeria, had practically screamed down the phone at her.

  ‘Celeste, where the FUCK have you been?’

  Celeste had temporarily been struck dumb. Russian by birth, Valeria was loud, she was brash, and she could swear in several different languages, but Celeste had never heard her so wound up.

  ‘I’m in LA on holiday. Well, an extended holiday actually. But if I can tear myself away, I’ll be back in London next week.’

  ‘I don’t actually care where the fuck you are! We have a call-back for you next week for the Next campaign. It’s down to you and one other and you disappear! Do you not care about me, Celeste? Because if you did, you wouldn’t be trying to give me a fucking stroke!’

  Celeste had tuned out everything except ‘Next campaign’. Oh. Holy. Crap. Not that she was prone to self-doubt, but she hadn’t thought for a minute that she stood a chance with that one, expecting them to go with a recognisable face, instead of an unknown with nothing but catalogue shoots, a few women’s magazine fashion spreads and a white-moustached billboard for the ‘Drink Milk’ crusade.

  ‘Valeria, calm your jets, you fricking wonderful woman,’ she exclaimed. ‘I swear to God, if you were here right now, I’d shag you.’

  That made Valeria cackle. ‘Not my type, darling. I prefer the kind with the penis, but thanks for the offer and you’re forgiven, okay? Just be here, next Friday, 10 a.m.. The campaign doesn’t launch until October, but it’s TV, print and billboards, so they want the face locked down now so that they know what they’re working with.’ The phone clicked then went dead.

  Even now, in a Vegas bathroom, replaying the call in her mind gave Celeste a visceral thrill. Next Friday. Almost a week away, and the day after she landed back in London. Aggs would then catch a connecting flight back up to Glasgow, so they’d always planned to say goodbye at Heathrow.

  Celeste’s mind starting whirring. They’d be back in LA tomorrow night, so that meant she’d have five days there before going back to London. It was perfect. She’d get her teeth whitened and spend a couple of days nude sunbathing on the roof to get rid of any tan lines from this weekend. Then she could do her waxing, manicure, pedicure, eyebrows and facials there too, and hit the gym
in Zac’s apartment block every day.

  Sure, they’d apparently split up, but there was no way that Zac would kick her out, especially with Aaron and Aggs there. Besides, he would probably be guarding Jilly Jones in rehab for the foreseeable future so he wouldn’t be around anyway. Yep, this was all perfect. Finally, after years of disappointments and sheer hard graft, she was going to get the break she deserved. This was it.

  In fact, this could be everything. If she got the job, she could move out of the cupboard she was renting in Earls Court into a bigger flat, and she planned to persuade Aggs to come down and live with her. The truth was, London was a great city, but there was no one there that she really connected with. Aggs could pick up temp jobs anywhere and she loved an adventure, so surely she’d be up for giving London life a try for a while? If she came down, the two of them could have an absolute riot together. Great friend. Great job. Great life. It would be perfect.

  Feeling her spirits swelling more from the thought of her and Aggs in London than from the shag she’d just had on the cistern of the middle loo, Celeste blew herself a kiss in the mirror, threw her shoulders back and opened the door. Time for more sun, more pool, more alcohol and more fun. And she planned to prise Aggs away from Aaron and have some girl time too. Maybe they could go and do a bit of shopping for a killer outfit for her call-back.

  Out at the pool, the DJ was revving up the tunes and Montell Jordan’s ‘This Is How We Do It’ was blaring from the speakers. Gorgeous, lithe, twenty-something women were holding their cocktails high as they danced on the deck, while guys in the pool were busting their moves. Celeste spotted Aggs, still lying in the shade in the cabana at the other side of the pool. With her red hair, she went straight from pale white to third-degree sunburn if she spent time in the sun, so she always stuck to shade, while Celeste slapped on baby oil and let herself fry to a deep golden brown.

 

‹ Prev