‘Bruce?’
‘Hmmm?’ He turned to me with sorrow-laden eyes.
I sat back again. ‘Er … nothing.’
One peek at those eyes made me hold my tongue. Some other time perhaps. It might, after all, look a trifle callous to ask for the keys to his flat before he was even banged up.
Once more we lapsed into gloomy silence, both preoccupied with our respective shattered lives. Eventually I looked at my watch and sighed.
‘I must go, Bruce. I’m meeting Sam in half an hour.’
He nodded and got to his feet, retying his dressing-gown cord with something that smacked vaguely of determination.
‘And I must get dressed,’ he said decisively. ‘For the first time in three days actually, awful I know, but up to now I haven’t really felt there was much to get dressed for. Talking to you has made me feel a lot better, Polly. You’re a real tonic.’
‘Oh good,’ I said, dragging myself up from the floor. ‘I’m glad about that.’
The mere fact that it had depressed the hell out of me was neither here nor there, of course. What did it matter that I felt even more like sticking my head in an oven if one poor soul felt like removing his?
‘Actually I know the feeling,’ I said, suddenly wanting to out-gloom him. ‘I didn’t get dressed for about two weeks recently, didn’t even get out of bed,’ I bragged, as I weaved my way back through the tables.
‘Really? Why?’ He opened the door for me.
‘Oh, er, it’s a long story,’ I muttered, back-pedalling like mad. ‘I won’t bore you with the details; I think you’ve got enough to contend with at the moment.’ I smiled. ‘Chin up, Bruce, I’ll give you a ring in a couple of days, OK?’
He nodded. ‘Thanks, Polly. Oh, and give my love to Sam, won’t you? He guaranteed my bail, you know. Tell him I’m seeing his barrister tomorrow.’
I pecked his unshaven cheek. ‘I will. Now you take care, and ring me if you need anything, I’m staying with Pippa.’
‘Will do. Thanks for bothering to come and see me.’ His voice cracked slightly at this and tears, I noticed with alarm, were surfacing again.
I hurriedly gave him a hug and then without looking back moved smartly down the walkway to the stairs, giving a cheery little backwards wave as I went. I simply couldn’t cope with any more waterworks today, his, mine or anybody else’s. I clattered quickly down the fire-escape steps, feeling horribly guilty but desperate to get as far away as possible from that sad little flat. God, poor Bruce, talk about a shedful of problems, and far from lightening my own load it seemed to have added a couple of tons to it. In fact it made me want to hire an articulated lorry in which to cart it around.
I jumped the last few steps and ran to the end of the street, grateful to be out in the sunshine again. As I ran along I groped in my bag for my A to Z and peered at the grid reference for my next little rendezvous, my tête-à-tête with Sam. Draycott Avenue, off Walton Street, Brompton Cross end. It wasn’t too far from Pippa’s, so I’d dump the car at her house and get the Tube. There was no way I’d be able to park in Draycott Avenue. Right. I snapped the A to Z shut and sighed grimly. Oh yes, I was under no illusions about this little débâcle. If I’d thought the encounter with Bruce had been a headache, I was well aware that it was nothing to the severe migraine this one was going to induce. Nevertheless, I trotted dutifully off to my car, shooting only the occasional reproachful glance at the open blue skies above me as I went. Why me, God, why me?
Chapter Nineteen
Sam was already sitting at a corner table when I walked into the restaurant twenty minutes late. He didn’t see me come in and I caught him glancing at his watch as I made my way towards him. He looked up, saw me and got eagerly to his feet, knocking his chair over backwards as he did so. He looked a bit embarrassed at his lack of cool and laughed as he picked it up and kissed me roundly on the cheek.
‘Just wrecking the joint. It’s great to see you!’
His face was tanned from his Egypt trip, his eyes with their amber flecks sparkled brilliantly and his hair was streaked with gold. He certainly looked devilishly handsome and terribly boyish, but I was pleased to note that my heart didn’t even miss a semiquaver.
I smiled. ‘Good to see you too, Sam.’
‘Here, let me.’ He rushed round to pull my chair out and took my jacket as I wriggled out of it. He hung it on the back of my chair.
‘Thanks.’ I sat down.
‘Drink?’ he asked eagerly, sitting down opposite me again and indicating the carafe of red on the table.
‘Please.’
The burgundy liquid glugged delightfully into my glass. It was very definitely just what I needed right now, but as I raised it greedily to my lips I realized it was also very definitely just what I shouldn’t be having. I took a miserable little sip then put it down. Christ. How on earth was I supposed to get through a lunch of such awesomely tricky proportions without a cigarette or a drink? It occurred to me that Sam was looking more than a little keen and that I might have to give him the heave-ho, something I hadn’t really contemplated. Not only that, but I was also going to have to ask him to do some pretty outrageous lying. I seized my paper napkin and began shredding it maniacally.
‘So!’ began Sam joyfully, folding his arms on the table and leaning across. ‘How’ve you been? How’s tricks, as they say?’ He beamed. ‘You look terrific, incidentally!’
‘God, I look a mess’ – I ran my hands through my hair – ‘but I’m fine, fine,’ I nodded, cranking up a nervous smile.
‘Good.’ Sam leaned over the table and grabbed my hand enthusiastically, nearly knocking a vase of flowers over. ‘It’s wonderful to see you again, Polly, it’s been so long!’
‘I – I know, Sam, it’s been ages. Um, how – how was Egypt?’ I asked, desperately wanting to get off the subject of our long separation.
He sat back and sighed. ‘Oh, so-so. Hard work and incredibly hot.’ He shook his head. ‘Too hot, in fact, and I’m not sure I got the result I was after. It’s impossible to work in those sorts of conditions.’
‘I can imagine. Still, you look well,’ I observed, ‘got a good tan.’
He grinned. ‘Well, it’s pretty hard to keep out of the sun – you get a tan whether you want one or not.’
‘Yes, um … I suppose you do.’
I followed up this sparkling piece of repartee with a festive smile and then buried my head in the menu. When I looked up Sam was watching me carefully. I had the impression he knew all was not well. I scrunched the remains of my napkin into a tight ball and wished to God I’d rehearsed just one tiny sentence of what I was going to say before I’d got here. How idiotic of me not to have thought this through. I desperately rooted around for another inconsequential gambit, just one more, then I’d come to the point, really I would. Our voices clashed.
‘Sorry I was a bit –’ I began.
‘Look, Polly –’ he started.
We laughed.
‘Go on, what were you …?’
‘No, no, you first,’ he insisted.
‘Well, I was just going to say sorry if I was a bit late. I went to see Bruce and I got rather held up, stayed longer than I meant to but it was jolly difficult to get away.’
‘God, I can imagine. Good for you for going, though. I’m not sure I could have faced it. Poor Bruce, how is he?’
‘Desperate. Frightened out of his mind, and I don’t blame him either.’
‘No, absolutely, I’d be terrified.’ Sam shook his head in horror. ‘Awful business, simply ghastly. Apart from anything else, I can’t think what possessed him to do it. I mean, it’s just so unlike old Bruce; he’s the last person in the world one would imagine doing something dodgy, and if he was so short of money he could have come to me. I’m sure we could have sorted something out, an advance on his salary or something. I had no idea he had money problems.’
‘Oh, I don’t think he did, and I don’t think he did it either.’
‘What?�
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‘I don’t think he stole the porcelain.’
‘Really? But I thought the police were more or less convinced – didn’t he leave fingerprints all over the place, and Pippa said something about giving a piece to his mother?’
‘Oh that,’ I said dismissively, ‘no no, that’s nonsense. He doesn’t know anything about it – it was obviously planted there by someone else to get him into trouble.’
Sam looked surprised. ‘Really? Is that what the police think?’
‘No, but it’s what I think.’
‘Gosh, well I just hope you’re right, for Bruce’s sake. I must say, I had my doubts about the whole thing all along, couldn’t believe it when I heard. Old Bruce just hasn’t got the nerve – he’d run a mile from anything that smacked of trouble.’
‘Exactly, and I’m sure it’ll all come out in court and he’ll be completely vindicated. I gather you’ve got him a brilliant barrister, is that right?’
‘Peter Summers, yes, he’s a friend of mine and by all accounts he’s shit hot. Bruce wanted some idiot of a hack lawyer to take the case, someone his father had known who’s about ninety years old now and hasn’t practised for years, but I wouldn’t hear of it.’
‘Quite right, he needs the best defence he can get, and you’ve put up the bail too?’
‘Well, the company’s guaranteed it but at the end of the day it’s my dosh, I suppose – well, mine and Josh’s since he’s the other shareholder.’ He frowned. ‘Had a bit of a job persuading old Josh, actually.’
‘Really? Why?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I suppose he thought ten grand was a bit steep, and it’s not as if he and Bruce are bosom pals either.’
‘Oh? I didn’t know.’
‘Oh, it’s nothing drastic, just a bit of a personality clash, that’s all. Josh thinks Bruce is a bit of a pain in the arse – in more ways than one, if you know what I mean!’ He grinned. ‘But, anyway, we’re not really here to talk about Bruce, are we? Don’t we have more personal matters to discuss?’ His smile was warm. He leaned across the table and took my hand. ‘Polly, I –’
‘Look, Sam,’ I said, interrupting him abruptly, ‘d’you mind if I go first? Only – well I’ve got a few things I need to say, to – you know, get off my chest.’
‘Sure, sure! Go ahead.’ He sat back in surprise.
I took a deep breath and leaned forward. ‘Well, the thing is … the thing is, I – I think you’re a terrific guy. Really I do.’ I nodded emphatically. ‘But I’m afraid I’m just not on for any of this.’
‘Any of what?’
‘Any of this – well, any of this adultery lark. You see, in the first place I never actually intended to do it, can’t think what possessed me, as a matter of fact, and in the second place – well, I just love my husband too much; it’s as simple as that. Oh God, I’m awfully sorry, Sam, this is all coming out wrong, but the bottom line is I’m afraid it just can’t go on.’
There was a silence. Beautifully put, Polly, beautifully put.
Sam licked his lips. ‘I see,’ he said quietly, playing with the stem of his wine glass. ‘A one-night stand, is that it?’
‘Sam, I’m sorry but you must see that it’s just not right! You’re married, and I’m married – although I’m not so sure about that any more, but that’s another story – but the point is, well, the point is it was just a moment of madness really, wasn’t it?’ I pleaded.
He looked slightly pained. ‘What a lovely turn of phrase you have, Polly,’ he muttered.
‘Oh Lord, I’m sorry. I’m not doing this very well – I don’t mean to sound so heartless.’ I took a deep breath and started again. ‘What I mean is that it’s got nothing whatsoever to do with you. If you were the sexiest, handsomest, most divine man in the world – which of course you are,’ I added hastily, ‘but even if you were Mel Gibson or – or that divine English actor with the floppy hair, Hugh someone, for example, I’d still have to turn you down because I’m just too in love with Nick. I’m just not on for any of this extra-marital stuff.’ I shook my head. ‘I’m sorry if I’m not being very tactful here, but I don’t know how else to say it.’
Sam pursed his lips and stared at the tablecloth. He gave a wry little smile. ‘I had a feeling you were going to say something like this, actually,’ he said quietly. ‘Half expected it in a way, that’s why I was nervous about seeing you. And you’re right, Polly, you’re absolutely right. This is madness, but it’s a madness I would have continued with, I’m afraid.’ He looked up quickly. ‘I’m obviously a much weaker character than you are.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t help it, I’m crazy about you.’
He ran his fingers through his hair and continued staring bleakly at the tablecloth.
I gulped. Oh hell. This was much worse than I’d ever envisaged. I clenched my toes. Why the bloody hell had he fallen for me like this?
‘Sam, I’m so sorry,’ I said softly. ‘I had no idea you felt so strongly. I’d never have come barging in and trampled all over your feelings in such a heartless way, but I somehow imagined you’d feel the same. I mean, after all you and Sally –’
‘I know,’ he interrupted, looking up sharply, ‘I know. Sally and I have a terrific marriage and I’m still very much in love with her. I’ve never done this before, never ever.’ He shook his head vigorously. ‘This is the first time in our entire marriage I’ve ever – well, I’ve ever cheated, that’s the only word for it, isn’t it? And I know I’m being weak and foolish but … God’ – he ran his hands through his hair – ‘it’s been such a long time since I’ve had this feeling, this incredible buzz of happiness and excitement! And of course it’s frightfully addictive. I think I knew it was crazy but I just wanted it to continue for a bit longer.’ He took a gulp of wine and gazed at me intently. Suddenly he grinned. ‘But you’re right, Polly, it can’t go on, and sooner or later I would have realized that. I just wanted to prolong my fool’s paradise for a while.’
I sighed. ‘Oh, Sam –’
He took my hand and shook his head, smiling. ‘Don’t feel bad – you’re right; you’re doing the sensible thing. It’s much better that we finish it now when it’s not too painful, rather than in a year or so’s time when it might have been so much harder.’
‘Absolutely,’ I muttered, nodding hard. I took a huge gulp of wine. A year or so’s time! Blimey, he’d had some pretty permanent ideas about the two of us, hadn’t he?
He smiled. ‘You’re a lovely girl, Polly, you know that? You’re fresh, beautiful and sometimes just downright hilarious. You made me feel about ten years younger that night – I’ll never forget it.’
‘Ah yes, well, Sam, that’s one of the things I want to talk to you about actually, if you don’t mind.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Well, I wondered if you could perhaps shed some light on one or two rather grey areas I have concerning our – um, our encounter. In the hotel.’
‘Sure, fire away.’ He looked puzzled.
‘What happened?’
He frowned. ‘Sorry?’
‘What happened that night?’
He stared at me. ‘What d’you mean?’
‘I mean, I can’t remember.’
‘What … not at all? Nothing?’ He looked shocked.
‘Not a sausage, if you’ll excuse the allusion.’
He looked at me in alarm. ‘Good grief, Polly, you mean –’
‘I mean I have absolutely no recollection of our night of passion, none whatsoever.’ I gave this a moment to permeate his boggling brain cells, then leaned in urgently. ‘Listen, Sam, the last thing I remember about that night is dancing a clinchy number with you in Annabel’s. I remember feeling exceedingly drunk and I remember thinking I wanted to sit down, or go to the loo, or pass out, or something, but then all I’ve got is a complete blank. As far as I’m concerned we then fast forward to the following morning where I wake up alone in a hotel bedroom, the only clue to my recent behaviour being a coded
message by my bed.’
He stared at me, aghast. ‘That’s it?’
‘That’s it.’
‘Heavens,’ he muttered, ‘good grief, Polly, that’s appalling. I feel awful. I mean, I knew you were drunk, plastered even – and so was I – but I had no idea you weren’t even remotely compos mentis. I promise you, I’d never have taken advantage of –’
‘Ah!’ I pounced hopefully. ‘So you took advantage?’
‘Absolutely not!’ He looked offended. ‘I was going to say I wouldn’t have taken advantage of the situation had I known the extent of your inebriation, but I had no idea. Hell, Polly, you were all for it. I mean, you were the one who instigated it, for God’s sake!’
My jaw dropped. ‘I was?’
‘Certainly you were.’
‘But I thought – hang on, didn’t I faint or something? I could have sworn I went a bit woozy on the dance floor.’
‘Oh sure, you did, and I sat you down and got you a glass of water, but you recovered in seconds and that’s when you dragged me outside. You hailed a taxi and insisted it took us to a hotel.’
‘No!’
‘Yes, and you were the one who went for my flies in the back of the cab, you tried to take my trousers off, you even tried to take your own trousers off until I stopped you. The taxi driver nearly threw us out – it was hysterical!’
‘I don’t believe it.’
‘I promise you it’s true, but – God, does this all come as a complete surprise? What about in the lift at the hotel? Don’t you remember trying to re-create that scene in Fatal Attraction? You sort of jumped into my arms yelling “Take me, take me!” but I was laughing so much I dropped you – remember? And then in the bedroom – gosh, you made so much noise! All that shouting and whooping and waving your bra around your head like a football rattle, shouting “Here we go, here we go!” – Polly, you must remember!’
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