Olivier slept pressed up against her, his arm resting protectively over her stomach. She could feel his breath on her shoulder and was reminded of those early days when she had treasured each second of their closeness. Now she wished he were Jack. She sank into her imagination, visualizing riding across the South African veld with him beside her, grinning in that raffish way of his that made her heart swell with happiness. Eventually, she slipped into sleep—a seamless transition into Jack’s world, where it was just the two of them.
In the morning Olivier was gone. He hadn’t woken her up by turning on the light as was his usual habit, but had crept into the bathroom and dressed quietly. The children alerted her to the time by climbing into her bed and turning on the television. She opened one eye to see the clock on her bedside table. It was a quarter to eight. She sat up in panic, switched off the television, and sent the children downstairs to Sunny. Then she dragged herself into her closet, pulled on a pair of jeans and sweater, and sat over a cup of coffee while the children wolfed down their breakfast as fast as their small teeth would allow.
She was late getting them to school. The front door was closed, and she was forced to ring the bell and apologize for her tardiness. It was clear from her pale face and bloodshot eyes that she had overslept. She kissed them hastily and watched them run down the corridor, hoping that she had remembered Joe’s games kit and Isabel’s ballet bag. No sooner had she set off back up the road than her mobile rang. Her heart stalled when she saw that it wasn’t Jack but Candace.
“Good morning,” her friend said chirpily.
“Hi, Candace.”
“You sound flat.”
“Hangover,” she lied. “I could barely get up this morning.”
“I didn’t see you leave. What time did you go?”
“About eleven-thirty. I didn’t want to break up the party.”
“It got rather debauched, actually. We got an ass shot from Art.”
“What, he mooned?”
“I kid you not. Totally hilarious. He pulled down his trousers and flashed his backside.”
“Why?”
“He sang the finale, totally pissed. There were only a few of us left. But you know what?”
“What?”
“He has a birthmark on his butt cheek that looks like a strawberry.”
“Really?”
“Huge, you can’t miss it. He said his father has one, too, in exactly the same place. How weird is that?”
“Weird.” She tried to lift her voice, but she felt leaden.
“You sound like you should go back to bed.”
“I think I might.”
“Don’t even bother trying to write today. You know what you need?”
“Tell me.”
“Lunch with the girls. Kate’s already called, suffering from anticlimax. Alessandro was up being sick in the night, so poor Letizia barely got a wink. Scarlet has declared that she is spending all day in bed, but the rest of us could do with a Bellini and a gossip.”
“And an early night.”
“You’re sounding like me.”
Angelica walked slowly up the road, eyes on the pavement, hands in pockets. There was a cold wind, and heavy clouds threatened rain. She wondered what Jack was doing, whether he was at the airport. Perhaps he was already in the air. Their snatched moments the night before had only made things worse. Instead of fizzing with excitement, she felt flat and abandoned. Life without Jack lay ahead, bleak and long, like the dead of winter. Before she had known him she had been content with her lot. Now she found it lacking; she had tasted the forbidden fruit and found her regular diet bland by comparison.
She reached the house and put her key in the lock. Sunny stood in the hallway all wound up like a clockwork doll. “Is everything all right?” Angelica asked, bewildered. The air smelled of summer.
“A man came round,” Sunny explained.
“What man?”
“A man with a van.” She pointed into the dining room. “He brought these.” Angelica peered into the room and her jaw dropped in amazement. The entire room was filled with red roses. She could barely discern where the table was for the vases of flowers. “Was there a note?”
Sunny shook her head. “Nothing. He just brought them in and left.”
She felt her telephone vibrate in her handbag. “It’s okay, Sunny. I think I know who they’re from.”
I will never forget last night. Your loving Dog. I’m afraid the porch is no longer in my vision.
Angelica blushed. “Oh, Sunny. What am I to do with all these flowers?”
“We’ll place them through the house.”
What will Olivier think? “I’ll take three with me to lunch. Put the rest wherever there’s a space. My godfather is full of surprises.” Why would my godfather give me flowers? And so many? Think! Sunny began to take vases of blooms upstairs while Angelica called Jack.
The sound of his voice renewed the intimacy between them, and she was transported back to the night before. She could hear the metallic noise of the airport in the background; he was already on his way.
“You’re very naughty, filling my house with roses,” she said tenderly.
“I’m glad you got them.”
“The dining room is filled with them!”
“I won’t get you into trouble, I hope.”
“He won’t even notice. He’s rather distracted by work at the moment. How did you get them to me so fast?”
“I bribed a friend to go to the flower market and buy as many as he could carry in his van.”
“That’s very resourceful.”
“He owed me one.”
“Must have been something big to get up that early in the morning.”
“It was.” He paused. “I wanted to show you how much you mean to me.”
“I’m convinced.” Love was like a game of snakes and ladders: one moment you’re sliding down a snake, only to find a ladder to carry you back up to great heights.
“I’ll never forget our night in the taxi.”
“It wasn’t what I had in mind.”
“Nor me. I was going to be good.”
“I’m glad you weren’t.”
“So am I. I’ll take that memory back home with me, so on lonely nights I can replay it over and over and remember the beautiful English girl I’ve left in London.”
“I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“I wish you could come with me.”
“Impossible.”
“I know. Fools’ dreams. You get writing your book now.”
“I don’t know what to write about.”
“Of course you do. Write about us.”
“I don’t write adult fiction.”
“Now is the perfect time to start. You said you wanted to do something different.”
“I don’t like unhappy endings.”
“Then give us a happy ending.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“You work it out. You’re the novelist.”
“Things don’t always work out in fiction. Look at all the great love stories, Gone with the Wind, Anna Karenina, Romeo and Juliet—they don’t end happily.” There was a long pause. For a moment she thought she had lost the signal. “Are you still there?”
“Still here,” he said at last, but his voice had changed. He sounded as miserable as she had felt that morning. “Give us a happy ending, Angelica. I don’t know how you can do it, but do it for me. I’m afraid, in reality, there is no happy ending for us.”
She felt a lump at the back of her throat. “As long as we’re friends, I think I can live with that.”
“I’ll e-mail you. You let me know when I can call you.”
“Mornings,” she replied hastily. “After I’ve dropped the children at school. I’ll be at my desk, trying to think of a happy ending.”
When she hung up, she retreated to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. With a groan she flopped onto the bed and cried into the pillow. She knew
it was ridiculous to cry over a man she barely knew, but it was as if his departure had sucked the air out of the city. There was nothing left to breathe.
14
It is only with darkness that one can appreciate light.
In Search of the Perfect Happiness
Angelica drove to the West End with three vases of roses in the back of her car. She parked in Albemarle Street and made her way down to the Wolseley, situated in the magnificent old motorcar showroom on Piccadilly. With its high ceilings, chiseled arches, and elegant stairway, the restaurant echoed the grandeur of Renaissance Italy.
It was already buzzing with London’s most fashionable. Their chatter echoed off the pretty yellow walls and black-and-white checkerboard floor. Angelica looked around for the girls, recognizing a few friends in the sea of faces. Jason at the front desk put down the telephone and greeted her by name, but Angelica had already spotted Candace waving her bejeweled fingers from a round table in the center of the room.
“There you are!” she said as Angelica joined them.
“You look like I feel,” said Kate, taking in her drawn features and shadowy eyes.
“You’d better feel fabulous, or I’m walking straight out of here,” Angelica joked.
“Let’s face it, we all feel pretty rough,” Candace conceded.
“But don’t ever say I look it!” Kate drained her Bellini. “Hair of the dog.” She raised her empty glass to the waiter. “Another one for me and one for my friend.”
“That baby’s going to be break-dancing by dessert!” said Candace.
“It’s mostly peach juice,” Kate defended herself. “Besides, I read somewhere that champagne is actually really good for a baby.”
“Like, what, a Jordan interview in Hello! magazine?”
“No, something far more highbrow, like Vogue.”
Letizia applauded her. “It’s amazing what little gems one picks up in that magazine. Most of them mine, of course. Not that one, I hasten to add!”
“Oh, give me a break,” said Candace, rolling her eyes. “If champagne is good for your baby I’ll eat my Birkin.”
“The lizard one that’s particularly chewy?” asked Kate.
“I’d even go as far as to suggest the croc—not only outrageously expensive, but totally indigestible.”
“Imagine that coming out during a colonic?” Kate suggested.
“I’m sure they’ve seen a lot worse,” said Angelica.
“Like the salami you ate at your twenty-first birthday party,” Letizia cut in.
“Oh, please. I’m looking at the menu!” exclaimed Candace, fanning her face.
“Darling, last night was amazing,” said Letizia. “I never thought I’d get into karaoke, but actually, I got quite competitive.”
“You were the dark horse, Letizia. Your rendition of ‘Stand by Your Man’ with that husky Italian accent made me want to cry,” said Kate.
“Tears of pain?” interjected Candace.
“No, I thought, That’s me. I could have kicked Pete out, but I chose to win him back. I stood by him. I am that song.”
“And you deserve a medal after that emotional battle!” Candace smirked cynically.
“I think we all deserve medals,” said Angelica. “As much as I love my husband, he can be very demanding.”
“There’s no one more demanding than Olivier,” Candace agreed.
“But he’s so handsome,” Kate gushed. “I wouldn’t mind waking up to him every morning.”
“Be my guest.” Angelica laughed. Candace raised a thoughtful eyebrow.
“There’s more to a man than his looks,” said Letizia. “At our age, we get the faces we deserve.”
“Which is why I still retain my beauty,” said Kate with a giggle. “I’m a thoroughly splendid human being.”
“And you have a splendid face, darling,” Letizia agreed.
“When it moves,” Candace hissed under her breath for only Angelica to hear.
“What are you going to do for Olivier’s birthday?” Kate asked. “It’s next week, isn’t it?”
Of course, she was absolutely right. “How on earth do you know when his birthday is?”
“I have a funny memory when it comes to the names of people’s children and birthdays. I never forget.”
“So when’s mine?” Candace asked, quick as a flash.
“I’m not at my best after a glass of champagne, but if I remember rightly, you’re a Virgo.”
Candace was surprised. “You’re spot-on, but that’s not difficult: I’m a typical Virgo.”
“Letizia’s June twenty-eighth—home-loving Cancer; Angelica’s March sixth—typical, idealistic Pisces; Scarlet’s August twenty-first—very Leo; and you, Candace, are somewhere in late September.”
“The twentieth, actually. I’m more than impressed, I’m astonished you remember anything about anyone else!” said Candace.
“I have a few gifts.”
“Well, I’d completely forgotten Olivier’s birthday,” said Angelica “I don’t even have a gift.”
“Book a table at the Ivy and say it’s been booked for ages,” Letizia suggested. “A surprise. We can all emerge from under the table, if it would help.”
“Oh, I think he’ll be too stressed out to even remember. If it wasn’t for his adoring mother, who will ring at dawn, it would be just another day.”
“For Pete’s, which is at the beginning of December, I’m going to whisk him off to Rome for the weekend. He loves opera.”
“Which bores you to tears,” said Candace.
“That’s not the point. It’s his birthday.”
“That’s surprisingly selfless of you, Kate.”
“I can be generous.” She grinned wickedly. “After all, he’s being very generous to me.”
“So? Out with it? What did he get you?”
The waiter brought the Bellinis. Kate took a sip, enjoying making them wait. “He’s giving me a lot of his time,” she said with emphasis.
“Not his wallet?” Letizia asked.
“Oh, anyone can buy a girl presents, but not all men are good lovers.”
“Now you’ve got me,” said Candace, leaning forward. “Go on.”
“Twice he’s woken me up in the middle of night. Down there!” The girls looked from one to the other in astonishment.
“You’re kidding!”
“Wouldn’t you rather sleep?” asked Letizia, who needed at least eight hours a night.
“I don’t really wake up. I just ride a beautiful wave without ever opening my eyes.” She looked dreamy—and more than a little tipsy.
“So what’s in it for him?” Candace demanded.
“The pleasure of giving,” said Kate sanctimoniously.
“I think he deserves the medal!”
In the wake of that revelation, they all buried their faces in the menus and ordered. Angelica felt flat in spite of being with her best friends in the glamour of the Wolseley, having left the dining room back at home filled with flowers. While Jack’s visit to London had been in the future, she’d had something to look forward to; while he’d been in the city there had been the possibility of meeting him. Now that he had left the country, all chance and anticipation were gone. Nothing in the future except an enticing mirage made up of their impossible desires.
“Angelica, you’re very quiet,” said Letizia, smiling at her sympathetically.
“Hard to get a word in when Kate’s on form,” said Candace.
“I’m feeling a little down, actually,” Kate retorted. “Though one would never know, of course. Have another Bellini, Angelica. I’m suffering a terrible anticlimax after my party, too.”
“Art’s party,” Candace corrected.
“Whatever,” said Kate. “All that preparation, one blissful night, and blink—it’s gone.”
“I’m just tired, but I can’t complain. It was a tremendously good party.” Angelica smiled weakly. She felt as if the slightest comment would make her cry. “I have three big
vases of roses for you all,” Angelica continued in order to change the subject. “My godfather filled the dining room with them.”
“Nice godfather,” said Letizia.
Candace was unconvinced. “What’s your godfather doing sending you flowers?”
“He’s a bit eccentric. He hasn’t remembered my birthday in ten years. The flowers, he said, were to make up for it.”
“Well, I’ll happily take them home. Might tell Pete they’re from a secret admirer,” said Kate.
“Isn’t that a bit close to the bone?” said Candace, but she was looking at Angelica.
“Oh, that’s all in the past, and besides, he’s not an admirer. Never was and never will be.”
“Well, that narrows the field.” “It was a silly mistake, and I’d really appreciate it, Candace, if you’d drop the subject now that I’m preparing to renew my vows with Pete. I have my first meeting with Vera Wang next week, and Christian Louboutin is going to make me a pair of shoes especially.”
“Do you need shoes on a beach?” Candace asked.
“All girls need shoes, wherever they are,” Kate replied tartly.
“Sandals, then,” said Angelica, trying to get into the spirit of things.
“Flats? God, no!” Kate exclaimed. “I won’t have Candace towering over me on my wedding day.”
“Imagine having everyone towering over you all year round,” said Angelica, taking a gulp of her Bellini and feeling a little better.
“Good things come in small packages,” Letizia reassured her kindly. “I don’t even think Gaitano knows my real height. Mind you, I’m not that familiar with it, either. My heels are almost stuck onto my feet.”
“Well, I like to tower over everyone, especially you, Candace. That way I always feel at a slight advantage,” said Kate with a grin.
“It’s not Candace’s height you need to worry about, darling,” said Letizia. “It’s her tongue.”
“Someone has to keep all your pretty little feet on the ground,” Candace replied. “Roses, eh, Angelica? Nice godfather.” She gave Angelica a knowing look, and Angelica knew she had been discovered.
After lunch Angelica led the girls back to her car and handed them each a large bunch of roses.
“Madonna! These are amazing!” Letizia exclaimed, burying her face in the petals.
The Perfect Happiness Page 15