by Ruth Jones
MacGregor’s Restaurant.
It was him.
The phone nearly slipped out of her hand, she was shaking so much from nerves and sleeplessness and an overdose of nicotine. She shut her eyes as she pressed answer, trying to sound calm, trying to sound unbothered by the fact that he was calling …
‘Hello you,’ she said.
‘Hi.’ And even this single syllable, uttered in his beautiful, rich, fifty-six-year-old Scottish voice, made her melt.
‘I thought you’d forgotten me.’
47
Becky was knocking on the door. ‘Five minutes, Kate.’
‘OK, sweetheart, no worries.’
Becky walked away from the trailer, confused. Sweetheart? Blimey.
Kate was lying on the purple sofa, where she’d been for the past half-hour, talking to Callum and beaming. After the initial awkwardness, their conversation had thawed, warmed up and at one point become positively hot. It felt between them like it had done seventeen years before: easy, unpretentious, familiar.
They’d arranged to talk again that evening between five and seven, when Belinda would be at yoga.
Before she hung up, Kate tried once more: ‘… and I’ll be finished by lunchtime on Friday, so if there’s any chance you can get away …’
‘There’s no way, Kate. I’m sorry.’
‘What if I came to you? That hotel again?’
‘It’s too risky. I can’t have two nights out with Gary in the space of a week.’
She knew he was right. But it was so frustrating. ‘I’ll just have to make do with your voice then, won’t I? And you know what that does to me.’
Callum smiled, lapping up the flattery before a tiny voice in his head wondered if he was making a fool of himself … but he soon ignored it and chose instead to enjoy the moment.
‘Call me anytime,’ she said. And when she ended the call, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. God, he made her feel good.
Callum had only had phone sex once before. It was long before he’d met Kate, when he’d been on a rugby tour to Dublin. He was in his early thirties then. He’d been away from Belinda for three days, and one night he’d abandoned his team mates at the bar and gone to his room to phone home.
They’d talked for over an hour – he remembered the bill had been astronomical. Mostly they’d chatted about the tour and the games and life and how Ben had been that day, and then out of nowhere he’d said to her, ‘What are you wearing right now?’ It was her black silky robe – the one he’d used to joke wouldn’t keep a fly warm, it was so thin. But she’d always said she liked the feel of the silk on her skin.
‘Untie it.’ There’d been a pause then. And it could’ve gone horribly wrong. She could’ve taken the mick, laughed at him with a ‘What the heck has got into you, my boy?’
But instead she went along with it.
‘OK.’ He’d heard her breathing get faster on the end of the line and then she’d said, ‘It’s untied. Tell me what you want me to do next.’
And he did. And likewise she in turn made her own demands, culminating in one glorious telephonic orgasm that surprised and delighted them both in equal measure.
For years afterwards, Callum often wondered whether the staff on reception in that Dublin hotel had listened in on the call, catching Belinda say, ‘I’m coming, Jesus, Callum, ohhhhh …’
And him in turn whisper, ‘That’s it, baby, come on …’
The auburn-haired receptionist had certainly looked at him differently the next morning when he went down for breakfast. He shuddered to think. Because it wasn’t really in his nature to be so … well, disinhibited. And yet that evening, there he was, lying on his marital bed in the dark, talking to Kate in her Winnebago, in ecstasy as she told him in detail what she would do to him next time they were together.
When Belinda came back from yoga, Callum was in the kitchen in a pinny, singing along to the radio, laying the table and warming the plates.
‘Someone’s feeling better then!’ she said, surprised but happy to see a much enlivened husband.
‘I’ve done carrots and broccoli. Be about five minutes.’ And he kissed her and carried on.
‘Old people shouldn’t sing!’ Ailsa said, coming in with an empty cereal bowl and a book about metaphysical poetry under her arm. But she was smiling, because secretly she loved it when her dad was in one of his silly moods.
After dinner, Belinda cleared up, whilst Ailsa made them a cup of tea.
‘So, I’m glad you’re in a good mood,’ Belinda said.
‘Uh-oh. Look out, Dad. I can hear a special request coming.’ Ailsa laughed.
‘Oh, shush! It’s for you as well, this.’
‘Go on.’ Callum suspected the subject of Ailsa’s moped was about to rear its head again.
‘My day off on Friday, as you know … and Ailsa’s got an inset day.’
‘How do you always know my timetable better than me?’ Ailsa complained jokingly.
‘So I was wondering …’
Here it comes, Callum thought. I was wondering if me and Ails could go and look at mopeds for her Christmas present.
‘I was wondering if you’d like to pay for me and Ails to go to this new spa over in Glasgow. They’ve got a special offer, two for the price of one. Elaine was telling me about it at yoga.’
‘Seriously? Ah, wicked!’ Ailsa was clearly excited.
Callum was, too, but for a different reason. He tried not to show it, playing the part. ‘How much is it gonna set me back?’ he grumbled.
‘Hundred and fifty quid. But that’s for one night’s accommodation …’
‘Will we share a room?’
‘Yes.’
‘Cool!’
‘And it includes two treatments. Each. It’s a bargain, Cal!’
He looked at her. His mind was racing with all the possibilities this would give him. He could see Kate! He could spend the night with Kate!
He sighed as if he’d just been persuaded, calling her bluff.
‘Oh I see, so I don’t even get a look-in then?’
‘Get over yourself, Callum, you’d hate it! Sitting in a jacuzzi, having your nails done! Gossiping!’
He laughed. ‘Alright, then. Early Christmas present, OK?’
Belinda came over with soapy hands and gave him a big hug, kissing him all over, saying, ‘Thank you, thank you!’
‘Yeah, cheers Dad. I might just forgive you now for embarrassing me and Tom.’
Callum shook his head, affecting an outer dismay that belied his inner smile. He was going to see Kate! He knew it was wrong. But he was going to do it anyway. There was no stopping this now.
48
Doug dropped Kate off at three o’clock at the Lodge. She knew Callum was getting in his car as soon as school finished and driving straight there. Plenty of time for her to have a bath, moisturize her skin, do her make-up and get the kit on – some gorgeous French knickers in deep-green satin, matching camisole and push-up bra. Oh, and stockings. All of which she’d hastily bought from a local department store on her way back from filming.
In all that time she hadn’t given Matt a second thought. So when her phone rang she was actually surprised to see his name on the screen.
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘Anything wrong?’
‘No, I was just thinking about you, that’s all. Aren’t you on set? I was expecting the voicemail.’
She remembered just in time that Matt would think she was working all day. ‘No, there’s a problem with the lights or something so I’ve just come back to the trailer for a bit. You OK? You sound a bit … I dunno.’
‘I’m fine.’
There was an uncomfortable silence.
‘Kate,’ he ventured nervously. ‘We’re OK, aren’t we?’
‘Of course we are! What’s got into you?’
‘About Edinburgh …’
‘Matt!’
‘I know you lied about the casino.’
Fuck.
/>
Buy some time.
‘Alright, thanks Becky!’ she shouted in response to a non-existent knock on a non-existent trailer door. ‘They want me back on, babe. Look, I’ll explain to you properly when I see you, but … I had to visit someone. And I promised them I wouldn’t tell anyone I was coming. You’re gonna have to trust me on this, Matt. I’ll call you later, OK?’
‘OK.’
And she hung up.
Bollocks.
Callum had been there for three hours. And almost every minute of it had been spent indulging in fabulously filthy, energetic and frenetic sex. It was better than any drug ever invented, and far more addictive. They had devoured each other over and over again, as if there was a finite amount of gratification to be had, desperate to exhaust the supply whilst simultaneously never wanting it to end. They were both privately conscious that their bodies were seventeen years older than they had been, and both privately delighted that age had not suppressed their indefatigability. Callum, in particular, had been impressed – and relieved for the sake of his self-esteem – that his stamina hadn’t diminished. Thank God for rugby, he thought.
Kate’s alarm went off at eight p.m., reminding her to phone Matt. Callum, likewise, needed to phone Belinda. He went outside and told her that he’d gone for a curry with the boys. He was relieved she didn’t want to talk much, preoccupied with enjoying her girlie time at the spa. The place was amazing, she said. And actually, maybe Callum would like it here, after all.
Kate meanwhile had stayed in the bathroom, talking to Matt. She’d bought enough time with their phone call that afternoon to think up an elaborate but credible story that would justify her trip to Edinburgh and the casino lie. She blamed it all on her school friend Jinny, saying Jinny had been having an affair for eighteen months, which Kate had known about but been sworn to secrecy, promising not to breathe a word. And now Jinny’s world was falling apart.
‘You could’ve told me all that though, Kate. Why invent all that crap about a casino?’
‘I thought if I told you I had to go to see Jinny for the night you’d have been pissed off. Understandably. Especially after I missed our meal out the night before.’
‘Christ, so did you lie about that as well? About meeting Paula whatever her name was.’
Kate was trapped. She had to decide in that nanosecond which response would cause the least damage. ‘No! Of course I didn’t lie – what d’you think I am?’
‘I’m not entirely sure, to be honest.’
She’d walked right into that one. There were a couple of seconds of silence before Kate tried again, more gently. ‘Look, sweetheart, I couldn’t tell you why it was so important I went because Jinny made me swear not to tell. So my only option was to make up something to do with work. I handled it all wrong, and I’m so sorry.’
Matt seemed to be absorbing what she said as Kate bit her lip on the other end of the line, hoping to God he’d believe her. She shut her eyes with relief when he said, ‘It’s OK. I just, well, y’know, I thought the worst, that’s all.’
Callum had come back inside, aware that Kate was still on the phone and trying to stay quiet.
‘I’ll be home soon, sweetheart, and we can spend some proper time together, yeah?’
Her voice was tender, gentle, loving, and hearing Kate talk like that made Callum shiver. He was hijacked by the strangest of feelings – was he jealous? Maybe. But it was more than that – he was thrown by how convincing she sounded. How in love she appeared to be with her husband. If the situation had been reversed and Kate had heard him talking to Belinda, what would she have thought? That he sounded tense and uncomfortable, desperate to get off the phone, ending the call with, ‘Right. Better go – my lamb pasanda’s calling me.’ Not exactly love’s young dream. But perhaps more genuine. If he’d really thought about it, what he found disturbing was the ease with which Kate could turn on the charm. Is that what she did with him? Did she never stop being an actress?
Later that night, when they lay on the bed, looking out at the full moon, listening to hooting owls and the absence of traffic, he asked her about Matt. She didn’t recoil as he thought she would, or become defensive. She just answered him straight. ‘There was only ever you, Callum. I love Matt dearly. But there was only ever you.’
And she turned to him and kissed him so softly, her closed eyes moistening with tears, and he thought: This can’t possibly be an act.
And it wasn’t.
49
Three weeks later, Kate had returned home and was back filming at the studios. It meant a much easier day for her – getting home in time to read Tallulah a bedtime story and share a glass of wine with Matt. Well, a few glasses of wine actually, and a few cigarettes. He joined her now outside the French doors, puffing away in the cold.
‘You gonna give up for New Year?’ she teased.
‘Are you?’
Kate had learnt to handle Matt’s tetchiness over the past month or so. He was definitely different, but she couldn’t work out why. Of course, it went through her head that he somehow knew about Callum. There’d been all that stuff about the casino, but surely that was behind them now? She put it down to his getting fed up with her work. It was a long job, this: nine months in total, with frequent chunks of time spent away from home. Whenever the moment felt right, she would press Matt to find out what was going on in his head, but each time she’d receive the same answer: ‘I’m fine, Kate, don’t fuss.’
So she’d just kiss him and say, ‘I love you. You know that, don’t you?’
And he’d smile a tight smile and say, ‘Love you too.’
The missing ‘I’ was the all-important ingredient, she realized ironically. But she daren’t pursue it further, for fear of rocking the boat. And Kate’s boat was most definitely sailing on calm and happy seas at the moment.
‘I’ve been thinking about Christmas,’ she said, interrupting the silence that had engulfed them as they stood smoking on the patio. ‘How about we go to my parents?’
‘In Edinburgh?’
She ignored the irritation in his voice. ‘Yeah, why not? It’ll make a nice change and Mum will be delighted. And when was the last time you celebrated a proper Scottish Hogmanay?’
Matt knew the decision had already been made; it wasn’t really up for discussion. ‘Yeah, sure. Whatever you want.’
And he stubbed out his cigarette in the garden ashtray and went back indoors. Celebrating Christmas was the last thing on his mind right now.
50
Considering how on eggshells he’d been when he first renewed contact with Kate, Callum was surprised how easily he’d fallen into this happy groove of deceit. There was almost a routine to their long-distance affair, which involved a lot of phone sex and moments filled with the fleeting hope of a potential meeting.
Every morning when Kate was safe to talk she would send the usual text from Kettley’s Garage, informing Mr MacGregor that his car was due for a service.
Callum, in turn, would respond when it was safe for him and tell her what time that day he could talk. She’d send a swift response back to confirm and all texts would be immediately deleted.
They hadn’t seen each other for three weeks now and it was starting to take its toll. Kate frequently showed her frustration by texting him photos of her bare breasts, her breasts in a beautiful bra, her daring buttocks in a thong, or her whole body naked in the bath, her right hand placed tantalizingly beneath the bubbles. There’d even been a close-up of her lips, slightly parted, her tongue peeping out between them, beckoning him in. She knew it was risky, but she couldn’t bear not seeing him and this at least alleviated the overwhelming need for fulfilment.
‘Can’t you come to London?’
‘And do what?’
‘I can put you up in a hotel …’
‘… make me sound like an escort or a …’
‘Personal sex slave? What a gorgeous thought.’
They laughed it off, but not seeing each other was no
joke.
‘I know this is a long way off, but in half-term …’
‘February? Fuck off, Callum, I can’t wait until February!’
‘Hey, I’m doin’ my best, OK?’
‘Sorry. Go on.’
He waited, slightly thrown by her petulance. ‘OK, well in half-term, Belinda wants us to go skiing in France with Ailsa. Our friends have got a chalet.’
She interrupted him like a sulky teenager. ‘I can’t bear thinking of you on holiday with your family.’
Callum ignored this and carried on, ‘Anyway, there’s also a teachers’ conference in Brighton the same week. I’m thinking I could go to that instead – though not be there all the time, of course …’
Kate’s mood instantly brightened. ‘Yes. Do it. It’s something, at least. But I mean it, Callum, I’ve got to see you before then. Whatever it takes.’
They’d finished the call, Callum feeling annoyed that his suggestion – which was a big sacrifice for him – had been met with such an underwhelming response from Kate.
He’d called her from outside the rugby club, where he was meeting Gary for a drink. He’d hoped he could get away without telling anyone about him and Kate, but things were getting tricky and he needed someone he could trust, to fall back on if things got dangerous. He’d already risked using Gary as an excuse a couple of times now and he felt he ought to put him in the picture.
‘You’re an absolute twat, Cal.’ This wasn’t the reaction Callum had hoped for, but Gary wasn’t one to mince words. ‘All that shit that happened before! You’re off yer ’ead, pal!’
‘Yeah, alright, keep your voice down.’ The club wasn’t busy – mid-week training was still going on – but there were a couple of oldies like them in the bar, and Callum was conscious of eavesdroppers.
‘Look, mate, of course I got your back if you need me. But Belinda’s unique. I wish I’d met someone like her.’
Callum thought about Gary and his three failed marriages.
‘Can’t you just get it out of your system and move on?’
‘I wish,’ Callum said. And he meant it.