He kissed her again, and she snuggled deeper into him. She couldn’t have said it better herself.
8.
You look stunning,’ Oliver said, standing behind Effie with his arms wrapped around her waist. ‘I say we stay here instead.’
‘Stop it.’ She laughed and wriggled out of his arms as she put her earring in.
He ran a hand through his hair before straightening his tie. ‘You can hardly blame me. You look good enough to eat. In fact, I may well do that later.’
Effie smiled and checked her reflection. She was dressed to the nines for Izzy’s New Year’s Eve party. Oliver had insisted they buy new outfits and treated her to a day out on King’s Road. They’d wandered in and out of shops, and she’d been overwhelmed by the expense of it all. She’d actually seen a pair of socks for seventy pounds. Socks. It was mental. She loved beautiful clothes as much as the next girl, but she’d never dream of dropping seventy quid on a pair of socks. She’d eventually settled on a black Biba shift dress. She’d wanted the one with the embellished collar, but Oliver had told her it might look too over the top.
‘If you’re going to insist we go, we need to go now – otherwise, we’ll be late,’ Oliver said, and she gave herself a quick squirt of Christian Dior.
‘I’m ready.’
He hooked an arm around her waist and dropped a kiss onto her shoulder. ‘Have I told you how much I love you lately?’
She smiled. He had. Over and over again. And she could never get tired of hearing it.
A couple of hours later, Effie and Oliver sat in their new BMW, crawling down the private country lane to Izzy and Tom’s house. Or was it a mansion? Nestled in the Surrey countryside, their detached, five-bedroom house sat in ten acres of ancient woodland. The smell of damp leaves wafted through the open window of the car, mixing with the comforting smell of new leather. Oliver had pushed the new BMW’s engine as hard as he could legally get away with, and sometimes more. Effie had settled back into the heated seats and had to mentally congratulate him on his need for impeccability. The car suited him. It was sophisticated, understated, sleek and expensive.
As they passed the trees strung up with lanterns and the elegant copper torches lining both sides of the lane, she glanced over at Oliver. He looked handsome in a crisp white shirt and blue chinos, and a rush of love hit her.
‘What?’ he asked warily, looking back at her. ‘Are you okay?’
She nodded and beamed a smile. ‘Yep. Better than okay.’
Things were perfect. She was sitting in a fabulous car, next to her handsome husband, on their way to a glamorous party. This was living. This was her life. She thought back to life with Smith, so full of uncertainty and doubt, never quite knowing where she stood. When he said that their ‘relationship’ had worked, he’d been so wrong it was laughable, and Effie couldn’t do anything other than laugh at the way she’d reacted to seeing him again. Thank god, her mind was stronger than her body. Now that she had Oliver, she never needed to have an uncertain day again. He loved her, plain and simple.
Effie looked at the house coming into view around the gentle curve of the lane, until Oliver killed the purring engine and parked up among the Mercedes, Audis and a couple of Aston Martins. They stepped out of the car, and Effie looked up at Sky House, the three-storey, forty-eight-hundred-square-foot property that Izzy and Tom called home. On the ground level, the floor-to-ceiling glass doors were folded all the way open, allowing the chilled house music, tinkles of laughter and buzz of conversation to float outside. Its sleek lines, timber exterior walls and two floors of wrap-around windows were wedged into a slope, and it sat under a canopy of oak and birch trees. The lights from the house spilled out, dappling the woodland floor in an orange glow.
‘I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing this place. It’s beautiful,’ Effie said.
‘I know. I’d have loved to design something like this.’
She looked at him. ‘You still regret not being an architect, don’t you?’
‘Sometimes.’ He shrugged. ‘But law is the family business. Sometimes, life means making compromises.’ He took her hand, and they ascended the huge slabs of slate serving as stairs. Effie could only nod. She didn’t feel like she’d had to compromise anything being with him.
‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘it’s nice, but there’s no point having a place like this in the city. A house like this needs to breathe.’
‘Do houses breathe?’
‘This one does.’ He grinned, and as if to prove his point, a gust of wind blew behind them, almost ushering them into the house.
How many people had turned up? A hundred, maybe? On the ground floor alone, the entire open space was packed with people lounging on oversized, charcoal-grey sofas, sitting on the stairs or talking in groups. An impeccably dressed waiter offered champagne from a silver tray, and Effie took one, grateful for something to hold. She never knew what to do with her hands in situations like this and usually reverted to picking at her nails. As lovely as Izzy and Tom were, they could be intimidating, and from what she’d seen so far, the same could be said for their friends. She could have sworn that was Jude Law over by the kitchen, but she couldn’t see past the redhead in front of him, and she refused to gawp like a fangirl.
‘I fancy a Scotch,’ Oliver said. ‘I’ll be back in a tick.’
Effie frowned as he left her standing in the middle of the living room, looking for a familiar face and failing to find one. She watched the waiters offering delicious-looking canapés, before taking one and almost melting as the smooth goat’s cheese blended with roasted peppers in her mouth. Izzy and Tom really knew how to throw a party – good music, tasty nibbles and a seemingly endless supply of alcohol. Not to mention a perfect house. Everything about it oozed money and class, from the undoubtedly original paintings and hand-woven Tibetan rugs hanging on the walls to the shiny black Steinway in the corner of the living room.
She looked around again, waiting for Oliver to come back, but it was pointless. He’d probably got talking to someone somewhere, and his mind would only be on one thing: work. She sipped at her champagne, resisting the urge to wilt away into the background, and slowly walked through the living room towards the terrace, then stepped outside.
‘Effie, darling. I’m so glad you’re here.’ Izzy’s voice floated down from the terrace above, and Effie looked up to see her leaning over the rail, her blonde hair fanning around her face like a golden halo. ‘Don’t move – I’ll be there in a flash.’
Izzy made her way down the stairs at the side of the house, her long purple dress swishing around her legs and her hair scooped around one bare shoulder. With a large, gold statement necklace and armband, she wouldn’t have looked out of place on a red carpet somewhere. Izzy hugged her, releasing her floral perfume.
‘Thank god you’re here. I was beginning to think I’d have to spend all night with Tom’s one-dimensional friends. Complete and utter bores. Drink?’
‘Got one,’ Effie replied, holding up her champagne. ‘Where is he?’
‘Upstairs, talking shop, as usual. Honestly, you’d think he could give it a rest for just one night.’
Tom did something inexplicable in The City, something that Effie understood involved moving lots of money around for lots of obscenely wealthy people.
‘When did you get back from your dad’s?’
‘Boxing Day.’ Izzy hooked her arm through Effie’s and led her through the crowd. ‘It was intolerable. Daddy was positively morose because you and Olly didn’t come, and Anna was – well, Anna.’
Izzy shuddered, and Effie frowned as they sat in two chairs, tucked away in the corner of the terrace. ‘But I thought you liked her?’
‘I can’t stand her,’ Izzy said with a giggle.
‘You seemed really friendly at the wedding.’
‘Well, of course. It was your wedding, and I supp
ose I try to be civil for Daddy’s sake. I might not like her, but for some inexplicable reason, she genuinely seems to make him happy. And that makes me happy.’
‘Except he wasn’t happy at Christmas?’ Effie asked. ‘Why did he think Olly would want to go round? I mean, this has been going on for ages, right?’
Izzy sighed, lounging back in her chair and hanging her arm over the back. ‘Since forever. They used to be super close but when Mum caught him with Anna, Olly refused to speak to him, and he barely has ever since.’
‘Your mum caught them?’
‘In flagrante, no less. There’d been rumours, of course. Daddy worked in London five days a week and came home at the weekends. He’d had Anna shacked up in a town house for five years.’
Effie tried not to let her jaw hang open. She knew about Giles’s affair, but five years? Oliver hadn’t told her that.
‘And Rosie and Henry?’
‘They were three when it all came out. Olly was fifteen, and I’d just left for uni. He went off the rails for a while, and in the end he started boarding at weekends. Can you imagine rather being at school than at home?’
‘He never told me,’ Effie said, feeling a twinge of guilt in her chest for trying to push him to talk about it. If she’d known, she’d have kept quiet. Poor Oliver.
‘Do you think it’ll ever go back to how it was with your dad?’
‘I don’t know. I hope so.’ Izzy crossed her legs. ‘Maybe Olly will change his perspective on things. He seems a lot less highly-strung since you two got together. Admittedly, there were a few raised eyebrows about you at first. You’re so very different from the girls Olly used to date.’
Effie’s cheeks burned, and she drained her champagne, frowning into the glass.
‘I had a feeling I wasn’t exactly Barton-Cole standard,’ she muttered.
‘Don’t be silly – of course you are. I didn’t mean for it to sound bad. If anything, it’s a compliment. The girls Olly used to date were all airheads, each one more vacant than the last. He’d say “Jump”, and they’d practically pole vault. You’re different. And you’re good for him.’
Was she? Judging by his mood in the lead-up to Christmas and his reaction to Effie’s suggestion that he patch things up with his dad, it didn’t seem like it. And Izzy’s endorsement didn’t sound like much of a compliment either.
‘Honestly, Effie, I didn’t mean anything bad by it. Who cares what other people think anyway? We all think you’re fabulous.’
‘Well, of course she is, that’s why I married her,’ Oliver said, slipping into the chair next to Effie. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing. We’re just catching up,’ Izzy said. ‘Where have you been? Charming bees?’
‘As always,’ he replied and quickly rubbed the end of his nose.
‘Liar, liar,’ Izzy said. ‘You’ve done a line.’
Oliver shrugged. ‘It’s a party. You not doing any?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Izzy’s the sensible one,’ Oliver said, and Izzy tinkled a laugh.
Effie looked at them both as they caught up. She was suddenly disturbed. Just how well did she really know her husband? He’d never told her he did coke, and given his job, she’d have thought he’d be diametrically opposed to it. He’d pressed her to quit smoking, yet here he was, getting high on coke, with his jaw twitching away as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
When Izzy got up, she kissed Effie on the cheek and left, leaving Effie and Oliver alone.
‘How are you, baby? Are you having a nice time?’ Oliver asked.
Effie hesitated. ‘I didn’t realise you did coke.’
‘It’s New Year’s Eve, baby. It only happens once a year.’ He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. ‘Don’t make a big deal out of it.’
It might only be once a year, but she’d thought she’d never see a drug stronger than paracetamol in her life again after Smith left. Oliver was so together. Not being involved in drugs was part of his appeal.
‘No, I wasn’t. I just . . .’ She shook her head, fighting the disappointment settling over her. ‘Never mind.’
She didn’t want to push the issue. He was a responsible adult, and really, it was only once a year, like he said. She leaned back in her chair and looked around at the other guests. If Oliver had taken some cocaine, it was fairly likely that others had too. The guests were all professionals, with high-powered jobs. It wasn’t like it had been with Smith, surrounded by DJs and PR people. Maybe this was how things worked in the Barton-Cole world.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and Effie smiled back, ignoring his dilated pupils. Drugs weren’t a part of Oliver’s life the way they had been a part of Smith’s. It was a compromise she was willing to make.
‘I need to take my shoes off,’ Effie said, holding on to the wall of their neighbour’s front garden to steady herself as the rising sun peeked over the roofs of their terraced street. Her head was throbbing after too much champagne, and her shoes had inexplicably morphed into instruments of torture.
‘No pain, no gain.’ Oliver laughed and grabbed her hand, but she wasn’t budging.
‘I’m serious. My feet feel like they’re going to fall off.’
He shook his head as if she was being a melodramatic diva, hooked an arm under her legs and picked her up. After the champagne and Oliver’s admittedly coke-tinted attentiveness, she’d put Izzy’s comments out of her head. She might not be Barton-Cole standard, but the facts were, she had the ring on her finger and she had their name.
After negotiating their way through the front gate, Oliver kicked it closed behind him, and Effie released an arm from around his neck to root around her tiny bag for the keys.
‘I think we should try for a baby.’
Say what?
Effie’s eyes almost popped out of her head, and she very nearly dropped the keys in her hand. She stood up and smoothed down the front of her dress. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I’m thirty. I don’t want to leave it much longer. Besides, we’re pretty much set up now.’
They were pretty much set up. They both had stable jobs, his business was doing well, they had a house, they were married. It all looked great on paper. It wasn’t like they’d never spoken about having a family before; it was just that she hadn’t thought he’d want to start so soon. None of her friends were at that stage yet. If anything, she was already leading the way by getting married, and she didn’t know if she was ready to take the next step so soon.
He held her face in his hands. ‘I love you. I want a family with you. We don’t have to start trying right now, but I want to be a dad.’
‘You sure know how to knock a girl for six,’ Effie replied with a nervous laugh as she unlocked the door.
‘I really want to be a dad. I want to be what mine wasn’t.’
Effie looked into his eyes. She’d had no idea how much the rift in their family had affected him until she’d spoken to Izzy, and she couldn’t blame him for wanting to prove he was different from Giles. Not that he’d have to do much. He was a pretty much perfect husband, and she had no doubts that he’d be an even better dad.
‘Okay.’
‘Really?’ he replied, raising his eyebrows.
‘Yeah.’ She nodded. ‘Really.’
It wasn’t like he was the only one with parental issues. Effie had always said when she had kids, she wanted it to be with a man she loved, and she would never, ever run out on them. Marriage was for life, and even though kids were too, it felt like a much bigger commitment. Effie had always told herself that when she had kids, she’d do a much better job than her mum had done, but after her own upbringing, she wasn’t entirely sure she was up to the job.
Oliver swooped her up into his arms again and carried her through the front door. They might not have to start trying straight away, but there w
as nothing like a bit of practice.
9.
Effie pulled the collar of her coat up around her neck as she climbed out of the car. With the wind buffeting her hair around her head and the drizzly rain whipping her face, there were only two words to describe the Irish weather: thoroughly and miserable.
‘Blimey, it’s cold,’ Oliver said, closing the car door behind him just as the second hired VW Golf carrying Lou, Mickey and Smith pulled up behind them in the driveway.
Effie looked out at the sea with its foaming, white-tipped waves. It was almost the same shade of grey as the sky, so much so that she could barely see the horizon, and it was much safer than looking at Smith. Despite his supposed acceptance of her wanting to keep him at arm’s length, she still didn’t trust him.
‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ Mickey said, looking up at the bungalow and jangling the keys in his hand.
Lou rubbed her hands together. ‘And frigging cold – can we get inside?’
It was the best idea Effie had heard all day. Since they’d left London, she’d been jumpy. Jumpy about the flight, jumpy about Smith being there, jumpy about him being in the same space as Oliver for an entire weekend. It was exhausting, and the idea of having a nap before dinner was the only thing keeping her from having a breakdown altogether.
‘This place is great,’ Smith said as they dumped their bags into the cosy living room. ‘I’m glad I tagged along.’
‘My aunt Oona rents it out. Three double rooms, two bathrooms and the best bit.’ Mickey walked over to the window and pushed the curtain aside to look out at the sea. ‘Look at that. It’s the best view in all of Ireland.’
Lou went to join him by the window and tutted. ‘You can’t even see anything.’
‘Wait till the sky clears,’ Mickey replied. ‘You can even see Croagh Phadraig from here, our highest mountain. That’s why I suggested the hiking boots.’
Effie shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. The only reason I’m wearing these things is because of the rain. I don’t do mountains.’
Love You Better Page 7