by Karen Swan
‘Yes. It’s here.’
‘Cat’s upstairs with Kitty. I’m sure they won’t be lo— Oh!’ Rob said, his eyes focusing on something behind Sam, prompting her to turn.
An astonished silence fell as Kitty entered, although no one could be a hundred per cent certain it was Kitty. Her hair was as straight as a rod, her eyes were blackened, and she was wearing a dark plum lipstick on her bow-shaped mouth. There was no sign of her freckles – had they been lasered off? – and she was squeezed into a silver cocktail dress that was very clearly several sizes too small.
Everyone watched in degrees of wonder and horror as her bosom wobbled magnificently, scarcely contained by the cutaway neckline and balconette bra Cat had put her in. It had to be said, though, that her ankles looked magnificent.
‘How sexy is your wife?’ Cat demanded of Joe as Kitty skittered in, almost having to walk diagonally, the skirt was so tight.
‘What have you done to her?’ Joe asked, aghast, as Kitty took a drink gratefully from David and necked it.
‘My birthday present,’ Cat sighed happily. ‘Cost a bomb, but when you’ve been friends for as long as we have . . .’
Laura looked over at Kitty’s panic-stricken face. She was barely recognizable under all the make-up. ‘Hi, Kitty,’ she smiled.
Kitty nodded. ‘Laura.’ But she made no move to enfold Laura in her arms the way she usually did – partly, no doubt, because she was terrified to even breathe in that dress. But Laura instinctively understood now the new settings of their tentative friendship. Joe’s look in the kitchen had been the first indication that Rob had been right – by skipping across the car park with Cat that night, she had hurt her new friend. She’d done exactly what Joe had predicted she would and chosen the bright, shiny girl instead.
And wasn’t she just! Laura looked at Cat standing next to her, glistening like a new penny in the firelight in her pale gold dress, her champagne-blonde hair smoothed back into a low, self-tying ponytail that was now draped over one glossy shoulder. She looked gilded, as if she’d been sprinkled with fairy dust, and even knowing what she now knew, Laura could still feel herself falling for the illusion of perfection all over again.
But it was all a shimmering mirage, she knew that now. The closer Laura got to Cat, the more she saw that her life was a house of cards on the brink of collapse, with secrets whistling past like eddies of wind. Behind the dazzling image, Cat was flawed, broken and fragile, and guilty of actions that only a past as dark as hers could begin to explain.
Laura’s attention slid over to Alex. How could he do it – stand here in front of Rob and pretend he wasn’t stabbing a friend in the back every time he smiled? Except that he wasn’t looking so cocksure right now. His eyes were on the floor, he had one hand in his pocket, and she knew he wasn’t listening to the spirited conversation – he was back in his Kensington flat, learning from Laura that the only lover who’d ever captured Cat’s heart was back in the game. He looked depressed and defeated, she thought, and Laura wondered whether he was tiring finally of playing third fiddle in Cat’s life, of remaining a secret.
Not that ending the affair was going to be his call. Rob may only know half the story, but he knew the half that mattered. Cat didn’t love Alex; he wasn’t the threat. By Alex’s own admission, their affair – for Cat at least – was a consequence of comfort and habit, not passion. Alex was but a mere footnote in the sweeping passions of Cat’s love life and everything was going to change tonight with the presentation of the necklace. When Rob showed Cat that he knew about the other affair – the one that had really threatened their marriage – they would be able to wipe the slate clean of all her old mistakes and start facing everything together. And if Rob could forgive, how could Cat not try to move forward too?
Kitty sidled off – quite literally – to get some canapés from the kitchen. Laura wanted to go after her but Sam demanded to know where she’d bought her suit, and Laura sensed her stock had risen since she had become closer to Cat.
‘So what are you doing for Christmas?’ Sam asked, peering over the rim of her glass. She was wearing a black dress with a cutaway ‘racing’ shoulderline, and an organza rose swirled at her throat.
‘Nothing extraordinary. Just spending it at home.’
‘In Sussex.’
‘Suffolk.’
‘Are you near the sea where you live?’
‘Yes, very. I can see it from my bedroom window. I love it. Have you ever been?’
‘No reason to,’ she shrugged. ‘I grew up in Cheshire, boarded in Berkshire, straight into London. I suppose unless you know someone there, or there’s a specific reason, why would you go?’
‘I suppose.’
There was a small silence, but Laura didn’t begin to try to fill it for once. She had to talk to either Rob or Cat – but which? Should she warn Rob about the full extent of his wife’s lies, or try to convince Cat to do the right thing by Rob?
‘So what’s your boyfriend getting you for Christmas?’ Sam asked.
Laura inhaled. Dammit – of all the questions. ‘Actually, he won’t be getting me anything. We broke up.’
‘Oh shit,’ Sam replied in a quiet, tactful voice. ‘That’s out of the blue, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. But I guess that’s how it goes. Something’s fine until it’s not.’
‘Is that why you scarpered, then?’
Laura tossed her hair to check Rob wasn’t listening. His eyes were on the fire, but something about the angle of his head made her think his concentration was on her conversation and not his. Unsurprisingly. He was probably checking she wasn’t about to drop him in it with his wife’s best friend. She looked back at Sam. ‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Bugger. I’m really sorry for you. How long were you together for again?’
‘Four years.’
‘Ouch! And you’re not getting any younger.’
Laura couldn’t help but smile. Sam was abrupt, but there was no malice that Laura could detect in the comment. ‘Yes. I’d better start getting serious about finding a husband,’ she joked.
‘Well, you’ll have no worries – you’ve been Catted. Actually, I bet she’s got some eligible fellas lined up.’ Laura’s irony had been lost on her and Sam’s sincerity was almost sweet. ‘Hey, Cat!’ Sam called across. ‘Know any nice single guys for Laura?’
All conversation ceased and Laura sighed in despair.
‘Oh! I know, poor Laura,’ Cat smiled sympathetically, coming over and clutching Laura’s arm just as Kitty came back in with a tray of mini beef Wellingtons. ‘I mean, how could anybody cheat on her? She can do so much better.’ She turned directly to Laura. ‘We’ll find you someone.’
Kitty thrust out the tray, and a series of manicured hands dived forwards. Laura saw the hurt on Kitty’s face that she was the last to learn about something as major in Laura’s life as this.
‘Honestly, I was joking,’ Laura protested, embarrassed that this line of conversation had hijacked the party. ‘I’m really not looking.’
‘Yeah, but you’re what – thirty-five?’ Sam protested.
‘Thirty-two.’
‘Exactly. Time’s not on your side.’
Cat looked over at Rob. ‘What about Valentine Garson? Isn’t he divorced now?’
There was a slight pause. ‘Yes, on account of his incessant wanderings.’
‘Hmmm.’ Cat wrinkled her nose. ‘Well, you’ve had quite enough of that for one lifetime. Oooh, Mike Kemp?’
‘Just married his third wife.’
‘Ah, shame,’ Cat tutted.
‘No, not really. He’s fonder of his hookers than the various Mrs Kemps.’
‘Ugh! How about Marcus Higson?’
‘Too short.’
‘Henning Thingamabob?’
‘Weak handshake.’
‘Oscar Shipton?’
‘Tends to spit when he talks.’
‘Dan Ashley?’ Cat asked with narrowed eyes. ‘He’s gorgeous.’
‘And yet to discover personal space. Practically stands on your toes when talking to you.’
‘Stop, please!’ Laura laughed, desperately trying to make light of the situation. ‘Really, I’m not interested.’
‘It’s just as well, Laura! According to Rob, there’s no one out there good enough for you.’ Cat looked back at her husband. ‘I’ve never had that with Dan.’
‘That’s because you always sit on his lap when you talk to him, darling.’
Sam chuckled, delighted by this unexpected foray into character assassination, especially from someone as measured and diplomatic as Rob. ‘Well, if I was single, I can tell you who I’d be going after,’ she said, winking at David. ‘Don’t worry, darling – I’m not wishing you dead quite yet.’
‘Who?’ Orlando asked with an intonation that suggested he might join the race.
‘That artist chap, Ben Jackson. He’s lush.’
Her use of the word ‘lush’ drew Laura up short. It was such a Feeism. She felt a stab of pain again at their separation; it had been more than ten days now, and as the days were ticking by, she was beginning to miss her old friend more, not less.
‘Why would you go after him?’ Cat asked with disdain. ‘He’s hairy and looks like he hasn’t washed for years, and he’s unspeakably arrogant. He was a nightmare to work with.’
‘Yes, but he’s got that twinkle, hasn’t he? We saw him at a charity thing in New York a few weekends ago, and if I was any less principled than I mercifully am, I’d have been in there. He was hitting on me big-style. He’s one naughty boy.’
‘Really?’ Cat asked.
‘He was mobbed when we saw him last week too, but I don’t see it either,’ Laura shrugged.
‘Trust me, that boy can conjure more passion with a single brushstroke than Nadal playing a Wimbledon final in his undies.’
There was a small silence as the image rebounded in everyone’s heads. Orlando looked particularly happy, but Laura felt distracted. Something was niggling in her mind like a tickle. What was it?
Kitty gave a light clap of her hands. ‘Well, Olive’s called to say she’s been held up at work but will be here shortly.’
‘Like hell she will,’ Cat muttered. ‘It’s just her usual game-playing, trying to show me how important her job is. Why’s she coming tonight anyway? I didn’t ask her. It’s my birthday. It’s supposed to be a celebration.’
‘I asked her to be here. I thought it was important,’ Rob said, stroking her arm soothingly.
‘Did you have to promise to make a donation to one of her charities in return?’ Cat asked, a cruel sneer twisting her beautiful mouth.
Rob hesitated. His wife’s mood and behaviour were plummeting fast. ‘It’ll be okay, darling.’
But Cat just moved away.
‘Well, shall we give a few of the other pressies now, while we wait?’ Kitty asked hurriedly, diverting attention from the tension.
A murmur of assent rose up and everybody moved towards a small heap of presents piled on to one of the sofas. Cat wasn’t looking especially excited about the prospect. In fact, she was looking far from it. Laura dashed to get hers, which was still in her bag in the boot room. Something was still niggling annoyingly in the back of her mind.
She returned carrying a soft silver-wrapped parcel significantly bigger than any of the others and put it down amongst the rest of the presents, where it sat looking like the foil-wrapped Christmas turkey. She was embarrassed by its lack of finesse. All the others were neat rectangular packages gloved in smart matt bags.
Cat sat down and started on the pile. Sam and David’s present was a leather-buckled Ralph Lauren photo frame with a black-and-white photo of Cat in it, taken in Verbier. Orlando had bought her some Crème de la Mer products. Alex (and supposedly Isabella) gave her a light pink cashmere travel blanket, and Kitty and Joe presented her with a hamper of Kitty’s jams and chutneys, fruit cake and half of one of their pigs presented as sausages, chops, ribs and belly.
Laura shifted nervously as Cat opened the unwieldy parcel. Her response to the other gifts had been muted, to say the least, and Laura was beginning to harbour serious doubts that she’d chosen wisely.
Cat pulled out the black shaggy ‘rock princess’ jacket as if it was a dead dog.
‘Oh! I’ve never had anything from Dorothy Perkins before. How . . . exciting.’
‘I thought it would look nice with your black jeans and those new ankle boots,’ Laura mumbled, wishing the ground would swallow her up.
‘. . . Yes . . . Great idea. Thanks.’
The jacket fell to the chair, lifeless and unloved, and she knew it would have been better appreciated if there’d been a Roberto Cavalli label inside instead.
Everybody looked embarrassed and the party atmosphere fizzled out like a damp firework.
‘Cat?’ Rob asked, taking a step towards her again.
‘Oh, don’t fuss, Rob! I’m just hot next to the fire. I’m going to run some water over my wrists.’
She left the room.
‘Is anyone else too hot?’ Kitty asked solicitously. ‘I could open the windows.’
But they all protested they were absolutely fine, falling into small groups again and picking up the conversations they’d been having before Laura’s search for a husband had come to dominate.
Kitty noticed a crisp on the floor and automatically bent down to retrieve it. The way she stopped – as if frozen – halfway down, was as telling as the unmistakable sound of too much flesh escaping too little fabric. There was a collective tilt of heads as everyone struggled to identify what they’d heard before giving up and turning back to their partners.
But Laura knew what had happened and she immediately took a step in front of Kitty, blocking her off from the rest of the party.
‘Kitty,’ she said quickly, taking her by the elbow and rotating her out of view. ‘I know you’re busy, but do you remember saying you’d give me the recipe for that plum cake? I’d love to get it off you now if I could, before dinner.’
‘Okay,’ Kitty replied, the mortification and gratitude both easy to read in her eyes.
Kitty turned, with Laura hot on her heels to shield her from behind, Kitty’s turquoise knickers clearly visible as they walked. But it was easier for Kitty to move now, and they were out of the room within moments. Kitty hid her face in her hands the second they were out of sight.
‘Oh, Kitty, please don’t cry!’ Laura beseeched her as her shoulders began to heave. ‘I swear no one noticed. Really. Kitty?’
Kitty dropped her hands away to reveal the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. ‘I can’t believe that just happened,’ she laughed, leaning against the wall. ‘Isn’t that just my bloody luck? I can’t even begin to think what Joe will say later. I know he heard it – I saw his face.’ The laughs came faster again and she doubled over, leaping away slightly as her exposed bottom touched the cold plaster. ‘Bloody awful dress anyway.’
She turned and showed off her peek-a-boo knickers and laughed even harder, and Laura joined in as she saw, properly, how enormous the split was, running for six or more inches down the back seam.
‘Do you think we can sew me back in?’ she cried, hiccupping madly and making them laugh even harder again.
‘I don’t think so, Kit, not without an industrial sewing machine,’ Laura managed through her own tears.
‘Oh noooo! What am I going to tell Cat? She’ll be livid. She said it cost a bomb,’ Kitty sniffed as her giggles subsided finally. ‘I can’t just walk back in wearing something completely different.’
‘We can, uh . . . we can say you had to change because you got some gravy on it and you’re soaking it out before it stains. Then just get it repaired. She’ll never know.’
Kitty’s shoulders sagged. ‘But what shall I wear instead?’
Laura thought for a moment. ‘What about that waisted Fifties dress that was hanging up in my room when I stayed over? The teal one. I bet you look lovely in it.’
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‘But isn’t it a bit . . . old-fashioned? I mean, look at you and Sam and Cat . . .’
‘Kitty, it suits you. That style flatters your shape. You’ll look a thousand times better in something you’re comfortable wearing. And I bet Joe loves you in it, doesn’t he?’
‘It is his favourite. It was his mother’s, actually.’
Of course it was! In this house, if it wasn’t inherited . . . Laura smiled, her head tipped to the side. ‘Now I have to see you in it.’
‘Okay,’ Kitty replied, relieved at the thought of putting on something that actually fitted and would accommodate tasks such as breathing. ‘And do you think, while I’m up there, the make-up . . . ?’ She wrinkled her nose.
Laura wrinkled hers back. ‘Yeah, I would. It’s a bit . . . harsh. Bring your freckles back.’
Kitty took Laura’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Thanks for saving me in there. I’d never have heard the end of it if Sam had caught wind of what happened.’
‘I’ve got your back. That’s what friends are for.’
Kitty hugged her suddenly. ‘Yes. It is.’ And she covered her bottom with her hands and ran knock-kneed up the stairs, giggling again.
Chapter Forty-Five
Laura turned to go back to the others, feeling her heart lift inside her like a bucket being pulled up a well, when she caught sight of Cat leaning against the bathroom door, staring.
From the look on her face, it was clear she had heard every word.
Laura gulped. ‘Kitty’s dress split when she bent over,’ she said quietly.
Cat gave a small disgusted snort and disappeared back into the bathroom again. Laura hesitated before following after her. She was shocked to find Cat leaning with her face against the mirror, her hands either side of her head as though she was trying to push through the glass to the other side.
‘Cat? What’s wrong?’
Cat simply shook her head, rolling her forehead from side to side across the cold glass, her eyes closed, a thick makeup brush held in one hand like a cigarette.
‘Are you feeling okay? Do you want me to get Rob?’