by Soliman, W.
“At the next AGM,” Karl said. “It’s no reason to try to bully poor Trina just because you want to be king bee.”
“A rule is being infringed,” insisted Ed stiffly, “and I’m within my rights to call this meeting. I’ve gone through the proper process, and those of us that care about the future of the club think this issue is too important to leave things as they are.”
“Yes, indeed,” Colin said, rising to his feet and clearing his throat. “I haven’t been here for more than five minutes and openly acknowledge that I wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for Trina.”
“So sit down and button it,” shouted someone from the back.
“Way to go!” Jack grinned at Joe.
But Colin wasn’t put off by a spot of heckling. “That said, I was brought here with a remit to improve standards, which I can’t do if we don’t have the raw material.”
“By raw material, do you mean decent players?” Joe asked politely.
“Yes, yes, of course, I was speaking figuratively.”
“What standards precisely do you mean to improve?” The chilling gaze Jack transferred to Colin was in direct variance to his mild tone. “If memory serves, our men’s first team won the league last season, the mixed team was runner-up in theirs, and the ladies did well too. I don’t think any of the other clubs eclipsed that achievement.” Murmurings of agreement rumbled through the room, reminding Jack just how easily people could be led—something he’d been counting on to swing opinion in his favor. “Or is there something I’m missing here?”
“Not at all.” Colin, having no better luck at maintaining eye contact with Jack than Ed had managed, looked away from him. “But, as I understand it, you and Joe, Karl, and Gordon are the mainstay of the men’s first team, with no obvious contenders to give you a run for your money.”
“Then perhaps,” Joe said, fastening a disdainful expression upon Ed, “those who wish to play in the team would be better advised to practice more and spend less time stirring up trouble.”
Jack didn’t take any further part in the debate. It rumbled on for another half-hour, getting more and more heated. And more personally directed at Trina. Accusations flew back and forth with increasing acrimony. Those who’d lost interest were starting to get restless. A paper airplane flew from the back of the room and landed in Ed’s water glass, earning its designer a stirring round of applause. Jack and Joe exchanged a glance.
“What do you think?” Joe asked.
Jack shook his head. “Good aerodynamics, but too much weight in the nose. Look what happened to the Concorde.”
Karl was occupied with sending a long text. One of the ladies noisily turned the pages of Okay magazine, pointing out some of the dresses worn by stars at a red carpet affair and discussing them at length with the women behind her. Gordon and Nigel had sloped off to the bar. Ed’s ability to retain order was woeful and Jack, who was also in urgent need of a drink, decided the time had come to do something about it. He rose to his feet and the whole room magically fell silent.
“For the sake of argument, to say nothing of getting back to the bar, let’s ignore the fact that this EGM is illegal and take it seriously,” he said.
“It’s not illegal,” Ed and Colin said together. “Rule Seven—”
“In your haste to convene this meeting you obviously didn’t take the time to look at Rule Fourteen. It states that grievances should be put in writing to the committee, and that they should be given the opportunity to respond before a member can resort to an EGM.” Ed and Colin shared accusatory glares. “However, we’ll be charitable and put that oversight down to zeal.” He turned to include the people seated behind him. “Now, if we’ve all agreed that this unauthorized meeting should go ahead, if only to clear the air, I think I’m right in saying that ordinary members like me get the opportunity to table alternative motions.”
“What do you have in mind?” Colin’s conciliatory tone made it sickeningly clear that he was already preparing to abandon Ed. “All we want is to settle this matter amicably.”
“Then you’ll join me in a vote of confidence in Trina and her committee, coupled with a request that a sub-committee be formed to look into our induction procedures.”
“The voice of reason,” said someone. “Can we go to the bar now?”
“Do I have a seconder?” Half the hands in the room shot upward. “Thanks, Colin,” Jack said, making no attempt to moderate his sarcastic tone. “All those in favor.”
Ed stomped off the platform before the count had been made. As he left the room the rousing applause for Trina must have been echoing in his ears like the sound of gunfire. Stella, Jack noticed with interest, had remained on the platform and was clapping as loudly as anyone.
Claire admired Jack’s adroit handling of the whole stupid business. What the hell had Ed been hoping to achieve, anyway? The level of pettiness that grown men could be reduced to never failed to amaze her. She looked across the room to where Jack was now talking quietly to Stella. She’d been about to run after her obnoxious husband and Jack was trying to persuade her to stay for the dinner instead. He was saved from having to try too hard because at that moment Ed returned to the room, smiling as though he’d done nothing more than slip out for a pee and hadn’t been the one responsible for exposing so many raw nerves. He headed straight for Trina and offered her his hand. A hush fell over the room and everyone watched to see if Trina would take it.
“No hard feelings, Trina,” he said. “I’m glad Jack thought of a good compromise.”
“Perhaps if you’d had the courtesy to bring your concerns to me first, then we could have saved ourselves a whole lot of heartache.” She addressed him in her head teacher voice, ignored his hand, and stalked away. Ed was left gaping at her retreating back, opening and closing his mouth without any sound emerging.
“Come on, love,” Joe said, putting his arm around Claire’s shoulders. “Let’s get a drink before the feeding frenzy begins.”
“I need one after all that.”
She snuggled against her husband, her heart full of love. She still couldn’t get her head around how stupid she’d been to take such risks. Chris’s suspicious reaction to her injuries had frightened her silly. And brought her to her senses. Rod hadn’t called since their last escapade, but when he did she’d tell him it was over. Chris’s inexplicable about-face was the answer to her most fervent prayers. She had her family back, her injuries had healed, eradicating all outward signs of her temporary insanity, and from now on she’d be a model wife and mother.
Claire smiled up at her husband, accepting the glass of wine he placed in her hand, grateful that no one had been hurt by her actions. She’d had a nasty scare, which had taught her a lesson. And even if she did still sometimes daydream about Rod, especially when Joe was making gentle and unsatisfactory love to her…well, that was no one’s business but her own.
“I wonder what this husband of Angela’s is like,” she said. “If the improvement in Sheba’s attitude is anything to go by, then at least he has a beneficial effect on her.”
“Kids!” Jack said with an eloquent shrug. “Who knows what makes them tick.”
“Who indeed,” Joe agreed. “Our Chris has been sullen and uncommunicative for the past couple of weeks. Wouldn’t say what was wrong. Wouldn’t talk to us at all, in fact. Then, all of a sudden, everything’s all right again.”
“I thought it was only teenage girls that got moody.”
“Don’t you believe it,” Joe said with feeling. “You did the right thing, Jack, not having any, I mean.”
“Yeah, so I’m told.”
“Shall we grab a table?” Angela said, emerging from the direction of the cloakroom and joining them.
“It’s already in hand,” Joe told her.
“Good, because I suppose my beloved will have to sit with us. We can’t really put him on a table with the kids. But I’d prefer not to have him sitting by me. It’ll only give him ideas. Claire, will you hav
e him next to you? Sorry to land you with him, but you’re so good with people.”
“Of course, Angie.” Claire was more intrigued than ever. She’d never seen Angela so agitated before and was burning to know what this husband of hers had done to upset her so badly. “I’ll be glad to help.”
They were moving together toward their table when the sound of Sheba’s voice made them all turn to look at her. “Hi, Mum, are we late?”
“No, you’re right on time for once.”
“Hi, Angie.” Rod kissed her cheek. “You look absolutely stunning.”
Ignoring her husband, Angie turned toward her friends and reeled off their names in a lackluster voice. “Everyone,” she said, “this is my husband, Rod.”
Claire felt her jaw fall open and knew her eyes must be bulging with shock. Struggling to remain in control, she was too stunned to notice the glass slipping from between her slack fingers, splashing the contents across her Jimmy Choos as it smashed to smithereens on the tiled floor.
Claire wasn’t the only person in the room who currently wanted to crawl under a rock and hide from the world. Stella felt the same way, for very different reasons. She’d had a bad feeling about Ed’s takeover attempt from the word go, but of course he hadn’t wanted to listen to her objections, accusing her instead of negativity. And now that it had all gone pear-shaped she knew she’d be for it. He’d blame her for not realizing the EGM was illegal and, ultimately, for his being made to look such an inept fool.
Not that he needed much help in that respect. Sighing, Stella wondered when it had all started to go so wrong between them. There’d been a time when she really loved and looked up to Ed, admiring his fierce ambition. Besotted, she’d worked tirelessly at his side, full of optimism and hope for their future as she helped him to expand his growing property empire. Not that he gave her much credit for her efforts even in the early days, taking them for granted and being quick to criticize if she made the smallest mistake. She’d been too infatuated to recognize the embryonic signs of his abusive personality and accepted his rebukes without rancor. Much younger than him in every sense of the word, instead of making a stand as an individual with thoughts and opinions of her own, she’d meekly fallen into line and done things his way.
When they were first married, she’d been eager to start a family. Ed claimed to love kids as much as she did and Stella was convinced he’d make a great dad. She truly felt for her husband when he told her about his childhood. About how his father took out his disappointments on his only son, inflicting injuries both physical and mental that would stay with Ed for the rest of his life. Stella assured him that would never happen to them. They’d have a large family and always be there for their kids, putting their interests before everything else.
It was only after Leah’s birth that reality dawned. Ed resented the time she spent caring for their daughter, implying that he was being neglected. He hit her for the first time when Leah was less than two weeks old. But by then Stella was trapped. Still only twenty, she had no money of her own and nowhere to go. Her family had disowned her when she’d gone against their advice and married Ed. And so the way she saw it, she had little choice but to endure her nightmare situation for just a little longer. Until Leah finished school, she would continue to protect her child from her father’s uncontrollable rages and bestow enough love on her for both of them. Most important, though, under no circumstances must she fall pregnant again.
She knew she’d be in for an especially vicious thrashing tonight. There was nothing unpredictable about that. She’d made matters worse by pointedly ignoring Ed since the end of the EGM and supposed she ought to go through the motions now and try to smooth his ruffled feathers.
“What’s that all about, do you suppose?” Trina asked, joining her and nodding in the direction of Claire, who’d just dropped her glass and looked as though she was on the verge of fainting.
Stella frowned. “I’m not sure. It’s not like Claire to be clumsy.”
“It’s more than just clumsiness if you ask me. She looks like she’s in shock.” Trina chuckled. “Angela’s husband is a bit of a hunk, I suppose, but Claire’s reaction is rather over the top.”
Stella couldn’t think of a suitable response. She felt awkward chatting with Trina when her husband had just tried to oust her from the club.
“Trina,” she began awkwardly, “I’m sorry, I really didn’t want to—”
Trina flapped a hand beneath her nose. “I know you didn’t have any choice.” She turned to look at Stella, fixing her with an intuitive gaze. “Do you ever?”
“Do I ever what?”
“Do you ever get to make any decisions for yourself?”
“Of course!”
Trina’s expression told Stella she wasn’t buying it. “Why do you defend him all the time?”
“He’s my husband.” Stella’s gaze wandered across the room to where Leah was ensconced with Malik, Sheba, and Chris and gave her a small wave of encouragement. Stella had never seen her daughter looking so radiant, and for the first time that evening her heart lifted. Ed would say that Leah’s skirt was too short, that she was wearing too much makeup, and that would be Stella’s fault as well. But she didn’t care. At least one member of their family was having a good time tonight. “He’s Leah’s father,” she added, sounding lamer by the minute.
“That doesn’t give him the right to bully you.”
Stella’s jaw dropped. First Jack and now Trina. Did everyone know about her abusive partner? “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Stella, I worked for thirty years in a failing comprehensive. There’s not much you can teach me about relationships. Being a head teacher involves a lot more than just imparting knowledge nowadays. It’s more like being a parent, social worker, magistrate, and confidante all rolled into one. You have to be on the lookout for bullying, abuse, criminal tendencies, even possible suicide risks.” She chuckled. “You have no idea.”
“I’m sure. But you don’t know enough about Ed to understand him, Trina. He’s had a lot to put up with in his life.”
Trina rolled her eyes. “My wife doesn’t understand me so I have to thump her every so often. Oh please!”
“He doesn’t mean to. He just gets frustrated.”
“And regrets it afterward and apologizes, swearing it will never happen again.”
“Something like that.” Nothing like that, actually. Ed had never apologized for his violent bouts in his life, but Stella wasn’t getting into that one.
“Does he take it out on Leah as well?”
“God, no!” Stella lifted her shoulders, implying that the very suggestion was unthinkable. “If he did I wouldn’t stay for another second. Besides, Leah stands up for herself when he has a go at her.”
“Look, Stella, I just want you to know that if it ever gets out of hand and you need a bolt hole, you and Leah are always welcome at my place.” Trina’s compassionate smile brought tears to Stella’s eyes. “I rattle around in that huge house all on my own and would welcome the company. You’d be doing me a favor. There’s plenty of space, so you could stay as long as you need to.”
Stella was too overcome to respond and merely enfolded Trina in a fierce hug, suddenly feeling a whole lot better about herself. She had people who cared about her, and Leah was old enough to understand if she decided to leave Ed. She brushed her tears away, impatient with them, feeling that something inside her had changed. She’d been feeling worthless for years. Her husband had told her so many times that she’d be nothing without him that it hadn’t occurred to her to doubt it.
But not anymore. Thanks to Trina and Jack, she was starting to regain a little self-respect and was no longer willing to act as Ed’s punching bag. It came as something of a shock to realize that it had taken just a few minutes to come to the decision that had been years in the making. If Ed did start in with his fists tonight, then it would be the last time. And she would tell him so. She wasn’t going to stick around and wait fo
r him to put her in hospital. Or worse.
Claire stared at Rod in dumb stupefaction. His lazy smile implied that women made a habit of throwing their drinks in front of him and that it was no big deal. The merest hint of a challenge lit his amused expression as he appraised her.
Claire experienced a kaleidoscope of emotions. Surging anger at his sang-froid attitude and the havoc he was so carelessly wreaking swiftly replaced her initial embarrassment. Aware of the conversations around her stalling as people transferred their attention to her, she struggled to regain a modicum of composure and concentrate upon damage limitation.
“Are you all right, darling?” Joe asked anxiously as he guided her to the nearest chair. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Oh no, I’m fine.” She made a supreme effort to pull herself together. “It must be all the excitement of the EGM. It’s not every day that we get to witness such theatrics.” She gave a little laugh that came out sounding high-pitched and artificial and fanned herself with a napkin. “And it’s very hot in here.”
“Would you like to go outside for some air?”
“No, darling, just some water and I’ll be fine.”
Claire somehow got herself under control and allowed Joe to lead her to their table, where she found Rod already occupying the seat beside hers. She forced herself to converse with him as though they were strangers. Claire hoped she was the only one who could detect the ironic smile in his eyes as they innocently rested upon her face. And all the time his hand, not quite so innocently, caressed her thigh beneath the table. He was treating this as one big game of cat and mouse and was probably getting turned on by it.
A wave of virulent anger washed through her but she struggled to keep it in check. Jack was seated on her other side, watching her interaction with Rod, and she didn’t want him getting suspicious. She forced herself to continue doing what she did best and chat to the whole table about inconsequential matters, keeping the conversation flowing. But all the time she was trying to detect Rod’s true motives for being there, wishing his bloody hand would let up and stop distracting her so that she could think straight.