by Ruth Jones
Nothing.
‘Hello – Belinda MacGregor speaking?’
Still nothing.
So Belinda hung up, collected the fondue and wandered through to the front room, yelling over the party noise, ‘Right, who’s ready for a taste of the seventies!’
And the guests all cheered.
56
That night, Kate and Matt lay turned away from each other in Yvonne’s rarely used spare bed, neither letting on to the other that they were still awake.
Both were thinking about the phone calls they’d made earlier and the consequences of doing so.
Kate was still in shock after hearing Belinda’s voice. She replayed the five-word phone call over and over in her head, recalling the friendly Welsh lilt as Belinda helpfully tried to make contact with whoever was on the end of the line.
Kate hated her for being so friendly. Hated her Welsh accent. Hated that she would be lying in bed with Callum right now.
She wondered what Belinda looked like these days. Seventeen years older. Menopausal by now, no doubt, grey-haired, with a tired old body that surely Callum could no longer find attractive? And at this thought, Kate couldn’t help but feel smug. Because whatever Belinda had on Kate – three children and twenty-six years of shared life – Kate would always be the younger woman. The sexier, more attractive, more appealing younger woman.
But hard on the heels of her smugness came heart-wrenching jealousy. And the thought of them in bed together right now, merely three miles away, was enough to keep Kate awake, churning the image over and over in her head.
She was going to look dreadful tomorrow if she didn’t sleep. All the effort she’d gone to arranging their getting together would be a complete and utter waste of time if she didn’t look her best. She had always to look her best. She had always to be the better option. She sighed and tried to calm herself down with the thought that at two o’clock the following afternoon, she’d be with him. In that faceless, anonymous, city-centre hotel room.
God, she loved that man.
That man was almost asleep now, the boozy evening having taken its happy toll. He lay basking in the afterglow of another successful annual MacGregor bash.
He could hear Belinda in the bathroom, cleaning her teeth, make-up removed, comfy Scooby Doo nightshirt pulled over her head.
‘Ailsa’s staying at Tom’s. She just text me,’ she shouted, her toothpastey mouth spitting out the words, barely decipherable.
Callum didn’t answer, he was too sleepy with drink to speak now, and he just wanted to lie there and think of Kate and how much he needed to see her tomorrow. He felt himself harden at the thought of being inside her again. Christ, those breasts … and her skin …
He’d almost dropped off when Belinda got into bed quietly beside him, spooning him and nuzzling his neck.
‘Aw, it was a good night, wasn’t it?’ she whispered.
‘Hmm,’ he mumbled, losing to sleep his power to speak.
‘And you looked so sexy tonight, Callum.’ Belinda had been feeling horny most of the evening. She ran her hand slowly along the familiar length of his thigh, higher, then higher, and was delighted to discover that the feeling was mutual.
Callum’s eyes opened sharply, the shock of the unexpected sensation of Belinda’s hand caressing him. He found himself suddenly very, very awake, and very, very hard. He let her continue. He couldn’t stop her, for Christ’s sake – she’d be mortified. But the truth was, he didn’t want to stop her.
There was no logic to what he was thinking. It defied explanation. But he felt as if … as if he was being unfaithful to Kate. Unfaithful to his lover with his wife! What a head fuck. He couldn’t process what was going on.
All he knew was that Belinda, silent and smiling, was urging him now to turn onto his back. She climbed on top of him, guiding him inside her with the deftness that marital familiarity had brought to their lovemaking over years and years spent together in bed.
They hadn’t had sex for a couple of weeks, and the last time was such a quickie it hardly constituted sex at all.
‘What’s got into you, good boy? You getting old?’ she’d teased at the time.
‘That’s better,’ she whispered now, holding his gaze as she rocked her hips down and back, down and back and into him, taking him all in.
Callum couldn’t look at her. Not because she wasn’t still beautiful in her Scooby Doo nightshirt, hoisted up around her thighs for better access and clinging to the curves he knew so well. No, it wasn’t that he didn’t find her beautiful, it was just that he couldn’t bear the guilt. The guilt of what he was about to do tomorrow, and the guilt that if Kate knew what he was doing right now she’d be devastated. So he shut his eyes.
And imagined it was Kate.
And when they’d finished and Belinda lay exhausted on his chest, he looked up at the ceiling, stroking her back, Christmas lights from their front garden flashing festively in celebration, and he thought, I am a despicable human being.
They lay like that for a few minutes before Belinda sleepily rolled over to her side of the bed. As she was turning away, settling herself in for the night, she mumbled, ‘Kettley’s Garage rang, by the way.’
What the fuck?
He feigned sleepiness, despite being as alert as a deer in hunting season.
‘But the line went dead,’ she yawned. ‘I thought we always used Reilly’s?’
He didn’t know what to say.
His mind raced. He was about to launch into some long-winded explanation about a mate recommending this new place when he heard the gentle, satisfied snuffle of Belinda’s snoring.
She’d fallen asleep.
Callum was safe. For now.
57
The waitress put the drinks on the table.
‘I’m sorry I’ve got so little time – I’ll have to go after this. The in-laws are arriving at one!’ Jinny said, taking a big slurp of her cappuccino and momentarily sporting a chocolate-powder moustache.
Matt liked Jinny. He wished Kate saw more of her, she was such a calm person to be around. ‘Thanks for not telling Kate about this … about, y’know, us meeting.’
‘Well, it feels a bit weird, I’ve got to be honest, but all for a good cause!’
When he’d rung her the night before, she’d been completely thrown that Matt and Kate were in Edinburgh for Christmas. Kate hadn’t mentioned a thing!
Matt tried to play it down, saying it’d been a last-minute decision – that Kate was filming until the day before they arrived and the poor thing was knackered. He was positive Kate would call Jinny in the next couple of days to arrange to meet up. He’d gone on to say he needed her advice – it sounded lame when he said it, but Jinny didn’t seem to think so – and she’d agreed to meet him.
He said for Kate’s Christmas present he wanted to book a retreat for her and Jinny, and needed dates when Jinny could go. But also could she give him advice on what type of retreat he should go for. Yoga? Meditation? Silent?
Jinny, who was a nurse with two small children and little money, was delighted at the prospect. Not just overwhelmed by Matt’s generosity that he should be including Jinny in the treat, but thrilled that she was going to spend three whole days with Kate. That hadn’t happened since they were in their twenties.
Matt felt a twinge of remorse that his planned trip for them was just a ruse, but needs must. ‘The most important thing is that you don’t breathe a word to Kate. ’Cos she’s bound to call you today, or tomorrow, to catch up, so just keep schtum.’
Jinny mimed zipping her lips.
‘And for God’s sake, sound surprised when she calls!’ he laughed.
They chatted easily, enjoying the festive atmosphere of the busy Haymarket coffee shop, holiday excitement heightened by the backdrop of Christmas pop songs and fake snow.
Matt knew what he was building up to and he sensed he was running out of time. He listened as Jinny talked with love about her kids, and Bill, and found his heart sinking a
s she did so. Because either she was a brilliant liar and covering up the heartache of her supposed affair, or Kate hadn’t told him the truth. And he suspected it was the latter.
Jinny checked her watch. ‘I’m gonna have to go, sweetheart. The house looks like a bin. It’s been so good to see you!’
It was now or never.
‘Hey Jin, listen, I’m glad everything’s good with the kids.’ He paused. ‘And with Bill.’
Jinny started wrapping her scarf around her neck. ‘Yeah, well, they do my head in sometimes, but I wouldn’t be without them.’
Say it. Say it!
‘And I know you asked Kate not to say anything. But she was worried about you …’
Jinny smiled distractedly as she searched for the armholes in her coat. ‘Sorry?’
‘She told me about your affair.’
He watched for a reaction. There was none, so he continued, ‘How are things now, because you seem—’
Jinny interrupted him, still smiling. ‘What you talking about, Matt?’
Even though he wanted to be sick, even though there was a sudden hissing in his ears and the overwhelming urge to shout out ‘FOR FUCK’S SAKE!’, Matt knew he had to carry on.
‘Kate told me you’d been having an affair for eighteen months. That you were an absolute mess. That you weren’t sure how you and Bill were going to move forward.’
‘Matt! I don’t know what to say … Hang on,’ – and confusion gave way to a smile – ‘is this a wind-up? Are you winding me up?’ She started laughing.
‘No.’ Jinny’s smile faded. ‘And I can understand you not wanting me to know, and fair enough if you don’t want to talk about it – I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it. Kate’s gonna kill me.’
Jinny took his hand. ‘Sweetheart, look at me.’
And he did. Fighting the urge to cry as he saw the kindness in her eyes.
‘I promise you, Matt, me and Bill have never been happier. I adore the big lummox.’ She shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t have the first clue how to have an affair – the whole idea is ludicrous.’
‘Well, yeah, I must admit, that’s what I thought when she told me.’
Most people would have been angry at the insinuation, but Jinny seemed more worried for Kate. ‘I just don’t understand why she would say something like that though, Matt. It’s really bizarre.’
He sighed, longing for a cigarette to calm his troubled soul. And now he knew the truth, he didn’t want to stay there any longer, certainly didn’t want to tell Jinny about Kate’s recent jaunts to Edinburgh to apparently console her friend. He started putting on his coat too.
‘Yeah, yeah it is. When did you last speak to her?’
‘We’ve texted a couple of times the past month, but I’ve not actually talked to her since October. Look, why don’t I call her? See if I can get to the bottom of this.’
‘No.’ He sounded like he was admonishing her. ‘Sorry. It’s just, I need to sort this. I think it’s best if I do.’ He got up now, his hand shaking as he took some coins from his pocket and left them on the table for the coffees. ‘She’s been under a lot of pressure with work – spending time together this Christmas will give us the chance to talk properly. Please, Jinny, let me do this.’
‘Of course!’ And she hugged him. ‘Matt, I know she can be … complicated sometimes. I’ve been her friend for ever, remember.’
There was an unspoken understanding between them, neither wanting to broach the subject of Kate’s instability.
‘I’ll call you, OK?’ And he left.
Outside on the street, three drunken Santas were singing ‘I wish it could be Christmas every day’. He lit a cigarette and started walking towards the ice rink.
58
Callum had been waiting for twenty minutes. He daren’t touch anything – he felt like an imposter, an intruder, that he shouldn’t really be there. Outside in the corridor, he could hear the housekeeping staff going about their duties.
At one point, there was a knock on the door and he opened it, expecting Kate. Instead, a smiley-looking manager asked him if he was OK for water, and did he need anything else? He politely declined and returned to his seat by the window, too nervous even to make himself a cup of tea and trying to come to terms with where he was, what he was doing. He knew Kate found the whole thing exhilarating, that she thrived on the danger of it all. But he just felt out of his depth. That this life he was now living belonged to someone else.
That morning, Belinda had been in the best of moods, following last night’s party and the after-party party in bed. She didn’t even question Callum’s desire to go shopping – if anything, she was touched he wanted to buy her something special. He hadn’t said as much, but she knew Callum. That’s what he was up to, and given the surge of love she was experiencing for him right now, she wasn’t about to stand in his way.
He’d left the house at midday and got a bus into the city centre, heading straight to John Lewis to pick up Belinda’s present – a portable DVD player that she could watch in bed, a pair of black suede boots and a bottle of Chanel. They weren’t spontaneous purchases – Kate had helped him choose in advance. Not out of any thoughtfulness for Belinda, of course, but because she knew it would save time if Callum knew exactly what to buy. Go to the shop. Buy it. Head to the hotel.
He’d finished by one fifteen and decided to walk the short distance.
The weather always affected people’s moods, he thought. Today, Edinburgh treated its smiling shoppers to frosty sunshine. How different the city centre would feel were it rain-soaked or smothered in Scottish fog. He walked alongside the ice rink, remembering when his kids were little, how they’d loved to skate, round and round in endless circles, no sense of flow, terrified of falling but not wanting it to end.
He saw a little girl stumble and fall on the ice, sliding a few yards on her bum, her face set in a frown, too shocked to cry. She wore earmuffs that matched her little red dress and was carrying a panda. Callum thought how resilient kids could be, smiling at the fact that she’d managed to hold onto her panda despite going flying across the ice. Her dad was there in an instant to comfort her and pick her up, making her laugh, distracting her from feeling embarrassed.
That could be him, Callum thought. Him and Ailsa. And he thought how quickly his own little girl had grown up. Didn’t want to think about Tom, though. No, don’t want to go there. God forbid! Belinda was much more OK about all that than him.
The little girl on the ice was holding her daddy’s hand as he led her to the side to join her mum.
It didn’t register at first.
Then he recognized the way she flicked her hair over her shoulder.
It was Kate.
He was jammed to the spot, unable to move as he stood peering inside his lover’s life without permission. The traffic of people passed him in both directions, on a retail mission – things to buy, people to see – but he remained static.
Had she sensed him standing there? She couldn’t possibly have seen him, and yet, suddenly and slowly, her husband and daughter unaware, she turned right around and looked him in the eye. And smiled.
It was the tiniest of moments, but it felt like it lasted an hour.
A woman with an inordinate number of shopping bags pushed past him. ‘Sorry, pal!’ she mumbled, her voice pulling him out of the spell like a drowning man from a lake. He moved away as quickly as his leaden legs would let him. Just keep walking.
Suddenly – ‘Excuse me?’ – a voice came from behind. It was Kate! Kate was calling him! Was this some kind of fucking dream?
She was holding out a camera, whilst Tallulah and Matt smiled at him.
‘Would you mind taking a photo?’ she said. ‘Of the three of us?’
He stared at her and still she smiled. Well used to the incredulity on people’s faces when they recognized Kate’s famous face, Matt stepped in as he often did and said kindly, ‘Don’t worry, mate, you’re not going mad, it is her.’
; ‘I fell over!’ Tallulah shouted.
‘Yes you did, didn’t you, sweetheart?’ Kate said, smoothing Tallulah’s hair, still holding out the camera. She thrust it towards Callum again. ‘It’s ever so easy – just press the button on the right.’
From somewhere inside himself, some deep well of self-preservation, Callum found the ability to speak. ‘Right. Sure, OK.’
As he took the camera from Kate, their fingers touched – his were shaking. The three happy faces looked straight at him and Matt cued them up to say what they always said in family photos: ‘Chugga chugga chocolate cheeeeeese!’ The camera clicked several times in succession.
‘That’s great. Thanks a lot,’ Kate said, and took the camera back without so much as a second glance.
She turned back to Matt and Tallulah and the three of them skated off, attempting another circuit of the rink. She didn’t look back, and Callum watched her go, his thoughts interrupted by an elderly man who’d been watching. ‘That’s that Kate Andrews, ye ken!’
‘Yeah,’ Callum answered, before finally finding the ability to leave.
A knock on the door. He took a deep breath and went to answer it, checking through the spyhole that it was her.
She didn’t speak when she came in. Pushed him against the wall, held his face in both hands and kissed the life out of him. Breathless and excited, she looked him straight in the eye. ‘Hello. Again.’ And she took her coat off, desperate to be naked.
‘Kate, what were you thinking? Jesus!’
‘Oh shut up, you loved it,’ she teased as she undid her jeans.
‘I did not fucking love it. It was sick!’
Kate was down to her bra and pants already. Callum remained dressed.
‘I mean, what did Matt say? And your little girl? I was stood there gawpin’ like an idiot – they must’ve noticed!’
‘We’ve got three hours. We doing this or what?’
And Callum’s indignation began to dissolve, once again floored by the force of Kate’s intoxicating confidence.
He pulled off his shirt.