Bookends

by Jane Green

  ‘Right,’ I say slowly, nodding at Portia to let her know I know she’s lying.

  ‘Anyway,’ she says, smiling brightly at Ingrid and slightly less brightly at me, ‘got to go. Big night out tonight.’

  ‘I’ll just bet,’ I say, and she stops and stares at me, then shakes her head as if I’m the one who’s mad, and Ingrid shows her to the door. I can hear the two of them whispering in muffled voices, and Jesus Christ, I can’t believe Portia is whispering about me to the bloody bitch of an au pair girl, but I don’t care, at least I kept my dignity this evening.

  ‘Are you certain you are feeling okay?’ Ingrid says, walking back into the kitchen after the front door slams, and pouring an orange juice for Max.

  ‘I’m not the one you should be asking,’ I say pointedly, and Ingrid shrugs nonchalantly and goes out to call Max just as – thank God – I hear the key turn in the front door and Lucy walks in, only to be practically knocked over by Max jumping into her arms.

  ‘That wasn’t Portia I just saw driving off, was it?’ she says, cuddling Max as she walks into the kitchen.

  ‘Yup. She was dropping off a cookery book.’ I point to the book as Lucy shrieks and immediately starts flicking the pages.

  ‘Oh, she’s such an angel! I can’t believe she remembered this, how lovely. I must remember to phone her and thank her. Honestly, Cath,’ and Lucy looks up at me, smiling, ‘I cannot tell you how thrilled I am that Portia has come back into all of your lives, that she’s now a part of mine. We’re all very lucky, you know,’ and she covers Max’s face with kisses as he giggles and flings his arms round her neck, kissing her in return.

  Oh bugger, I think, using Lucy’s favourite expression. If only you knew.

  Chapter twenty-one

  A week later and I’m convinced Lucy thinks I’m completely mad. All day yesterday she kept catching me watching her with, as she put it, these big worried eyes, but every time she asked me what was wrong I just sighed, apparently, and said it was nothing.

  Just before six o’clock I start telling people that we’re closing, but, as usual, they all suddenly seem to have gone deaf, which I suppose can only be a good thing, really, given that there appear to be five deaf people currently in Bookends, which is infinitely preferable to no people at all.

  ‘I’m sorry, but we are in fact closing now.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but we will still be here in the morning if you want to come and finish the book.’

  And all this said with a polite smile. Eventually everybody leaves, and Bill, Rachel and I walk around the shop and put the books back where they belong, the shelves managing to get extraordinarily muddled up by the end of each day.

  Bill and Rachel leave, and half an hour later I move over to the bar to see how Lucy is. She finishes wiping one of the tables, winks at me, then a few minutes later comes over to the table with two large milky coffees and a giant slab of juicy carrot cake with two forks.

  Untying her apron she collapses into a chair and gives me a weary smile. ‘How are you doing, my darling Cath? And more importantly, what are you up to tonight?’ she asks. ‘Seeing James again or is it too soon?’

  ‘Much too soon. I haven’t even thanked him for last week. Damn. I meant to phone today.’

  ‘Why not phone now?’

  ‘No, it’s okay. I’ll wait until I get home.’

  Lucy’s smile disappears for a while and she stares into space, her mind obviously on other things. Poor Lucy. Oh God. Do you think she knows?

  ‘Lucy? Are you okay?’

  She looks at me with a smile and nods, but the expression in her eyes is one of sadness.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Well, no.’ She says finally, and I mentally brace myself because if she actually asks me if I know anything, I just don’t know what I’m going to say. Lie. You must lie. But I’m a hopeless liar. My face is, as Si always says, exactly like an open book.

  I blush, I stammer, and I find it completely impossible to look the other person in the eye. Your classic textbook crap liar, so please God, don’t let Lucy ask me, don’t let her elicit my opinion on this.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ As if I don’t already know.

  ‘It’s us, I suppose. Josh and I,’ and the smile has well and truly disappeared, which is when I realize that I never see Lucy’s face in repose. She is always so bright, so animated, that seeing her like this makes it look as if all the stuffing has been knocked out of her. Which I suppose it has, if she’s found anything out.

  ‘Things just aren’t right,’ she continues after a long pause, looking up at me to see if I’m still listening.

  ‘I know that things have changed, what with me working here, and Josh suddenly having this really big deal, and that we’re not spending as much time together, but Josh seems to have taken it personally, and the less time he spends at home, the less time he seems to want to spend at home.’

  ‘Have you tried talking to him?’ I say, which is what I always say when I can’t think of anything else. Plus, I learned it from Lucy.

  ‘Ridiculous, isn’t it? Here I am, having recently done that damn counselling course, and I’m married to a man who completely clams up at the first hint of a problem. The worst thing is that normally I can draw things out of him, but I feel so guilty at not being there, not being at home any more, I seem to have lost the ability to communicate as well.’

  ‘Oh, Lucy,’ I say sadly, rubbing her arm to comfort her.

  ‘And I know this sounds ridiculous, but if I didn’t know better I’d think he was up to something.’

  I can’t stop my sharp intake of breath, but luckily Lucy’s looking at the table and she neither hears nor sees.

  ‘Late nights practically every night, incommunicado because he’s locked in meetings. God,’ and she gives a rueful smile. ‘They’re supposed to be the classic signs of an affair, aren’t they?’

  ‘Do you think he’s having an affair?’ I ask, in what I hope is a nonchalant manner.

  ‘Josh? Absolutely not,’ and she starts laughing. ‘But don’t think I haven’t thought about it. It’s just absolutely not up his street, although God knows I wouldn’t blame him, given the state of our sex life. I don’t even remember the last time we had sex, and Cath, this is so awful, but I’m just too blasted tired.

  ‘You know,’ she says, looking up at me, ‘often during the day I feel really rather sexy. I’ll read something or think about something, and I’ll think, how lucky I am to be going home to a man that I still really fancy, and maybe tonight we’ll make love and I spend the rest of the day looking forward to it.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And then by the time I’ve got home and spent some time with Max, and had something to eat and jumped into a hot bath, I’m so exhausted I can hardly lift my feet, and it’s all I can do to actually stand up and walk from the bathroom to the bedroom, fling back the duvet and climb into bed. That uses up any surplus energy I might have had, and then that’s it. I’m fast asleep as soon as my head touches the pillow.’

  ‘Lucy, if it’s any consolation, it’s exactly the same for me. It is exhausting, running our own business, and I could seriously do with a holiday, but don’t the benefits outweigh the negatives?’

  ‘In your case, my darling, yes, because, and Cath, don’t take this the wrong way, but because you haven’t got a family, but in my case, I just don’t know any more.’ She sighs deeply. ‘I didn’t mean that. Of course the benefits outweigh the negatives, I suppose it’s just a question of finding the right balance.’

  There’s a silence for a while and I try to lighten the tone. ‘Well, they always say that you stop having sex when you get married. You’re just proving the rule.’

  ‘But Josh and I always had the most marvellous sex life. Oh, Cath, I’m not embarrassing you, am I? Do you mind me talking to you like this? It’s just that I have to talk to someone or I’m simply going to explode.
Or implode,’ she says sadly, ‘which is infinitely worse,’ and she smiles.

  ‘It’s fine. I don’t mind at all. I just wish I knew what to say.’

  ‘Josh and I always used to say how lucky we were that our sex life was still fantastic, but now…’

  ‘Did you mean what you said about not blaming him if he were to have an affair, then?’

  ‘No,’ she sighs. ‘Of course I didn’t mean that. I’d be devastated if he were having an affair. It would be horrific. But trust me, Cath, I know I feel like I’m going crazy, but I honestly don’t believe he would do that. I think, I hope, it’s just a phase we’re going through.’

  ‘All marriages have their ups and downs,’ I state sagely, praying that this is just a phase, that soon this will be over and Portia will have moved on.

  ‘I know,’ she says sadly. ‘It’s just that we’ve never hit a down like this before, and, although I know we’ll come out of it, it’s pretty bloody miserable when you’re stuck in it.’

  ‘What about pulling a big seduction number?’ I say suddenly, as Lucy looks puzzled. ‘You know, sexy underwear, stockings, the whole works. I always read those articles about women putting the sex back into their sex lives, so why shouldn’t you try it?’

  ‘You’re not serious?’ Lucy starts to laugh. ‘I’d look like a trussed-up chicken in one of those outfits.’

  ‘You wouldn’t.’ I start liking this idea more and more. ‘You’d look gorgeous. How about if Si and I took you on a shopping expedition? If nothing else we’d have a laugh, and God knows we all need a laugh right now.’

  ‘I’d feel ridiculous,’ Lucy laughs, pretending to be embarrassed, but I can tell her resistance is wearing thin. ‘Anyway, what on earth do you suppose I’d buy?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I chuckle, ‘possibly a little French maid’s outfit? Or how about a nurse’s uniform, that always seems to do it.’

  ‘God no!’ Lucy starts to giggle. ‘How impossibly naff.’

  ‘But sexy,’ I wink, and the pair of us snort our coffee out through our noses.

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ Si says, when I inform him of our plan.

  ‘What? You don’t think it’s a good idea?’ I’m staggered at his disapproval.

  ‘Sweets, I think it’s a wonderful idea. I think that, at the very least, it will be fun for Lucy and that’s a bit of an accomplishment right now.’

  ‘So don’t even think about what?’

  ‘Ann Summers. I wouldn’t let you near the place. If we’re going to do it, we’re going to do it right, and the only place to go is Agent Provocateur.’

  ‘Oooh,’ I squeal, suddenly feeling like a little girl. ‘Is that the place that sells those fluffy marabou mules? The slippers that no good housewife should be without?’

  ‘Those plus a million other gorgeously sexy bits and pieces.’

  ‘Let’s go,’ I say greedily. ‘Today? Tomorrow? I want those slippers and I want them now.’

  ‘Well, well… Who would have thought our Cath was a Brigitte Bardot in the making.’

  ‘Not bloody likely,’ I laugh. ‘I’ve just dreamt of those slippers ever since I was about five years old. Can we go soon? Pleeeeeeeeeease? Pleeeeeeeease?’

  ‘Only if you promise to buy me a leopard-skin thong.’

  ‘It’s a done deal.’

  Si lets out a long sigh. ‘On a more serious note, Cath, do you actually think this might work?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I’m not letting this marriage collapse without a fight.’

  ‘I know,’ he says softly. ‘I feel the same way. Anyway, back to the real world, have you phoned the gorgeous James yet to thank him and apologize for being so spacey at the end of the evening?’

  ‘Oh God,’ I groan. ‘I feel so awful about that, shit… call waiting, can you hang on?’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll talk to you later,’ and he blows me a kiss and is gone. I press the appropriate buttons and say hello.

  ‘Cath?’

  Well, speak of the devil. It’s James. ‘I was worried about you, and I just wanted to phone to see if you were okay. Are you feeling better?’

  ‘James, you’re making me feel so guilty. All week I’ve meant to call you and thank you for a lovely evening, but I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance.’

  ‘It can’t have been that lovely,’ James says, ‘not at the end, anyway.’

  ‘Well, a bit traumatic, but the beginning was perfect, and had we not seen, well, you know. Had that not happened, the whole evening would have been perfect.’

  ‘That’s sweet of you to say so,’ James says, and then we both sit there for a while as I wonder whether he’s going to ask me out again, and actually hoping that he will, because I want to give this another chance, I want us to have an evening that really is perfect, from beginning to end.

  But Cath the inexperienced idiot can’t say that of course, so I just sit there in silence waiting, praying, for him to ask, and after a while he just says that he’s glad I’m okay and that I should take care, and I put the phone down, suddenly feeling a deep emptiness.

  Which is ridiculous, really. I mean, I hardly know him. It was one evening. There’s nothing physical, no physical attraction, but I have to say I was looking forward to getting to know him better.

  And even I’m amazed at how quickly I’ve managed to blow it this time. Oh well, there’s only one thing for it. Eight slices of bread and half a packet of chocolate Hobnobs.

  Chapter twenty-two

  ‘Si really isn’t that keen on Portia, is he?’ A few days later it’s a slow afternoon in Bookends, and Lucy’s helping me tidy up the stock room. She tries to look nonchalant, but it doesn’t work, and I know that this isn’t the end of the question, that Si’s reaction every time Portia’s name is mentioned has only served to sow the seeds of doubt in Lucy’s head.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Oh, come on, Cath! There’s something going on, isn’t there?’

  All the colour drains out of my face, and, I swear, my heart actually misses a beat.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I speak slowly, trying to keep my voice calm and steady, and managing somehow, even though the voice sounds nothing like my own.

  ‘For starters, you look like a ghost every time Portia’s name is mentioned, and Si looks as if he’s about to murder someone, probably Portia. What on earth is going on with her?’

  Oh God, what do I do? Do I tell her? Should I confess? This is, after all, one of my closest friends in the world, and would I not be a better friend by telling her of Josh’s betrayal?

  What if the roles were reversed? Would I want to know? If I were with, say, James, and he was being unfaithful, and Si or Lucy found out about it, wouldn’t I be more furious if I discovered that they knew and hadn’t told me?

  But then they say it’s always the messenger who gets shot, and maybe it isn’t any of my business. or maybe I should just pray that it is, after all, a phase, and just cross my fingers and hope that it’s all over soon.

  I take a deep breath and look into Lucy’s eyes, and I know immediately that I will not be the one to tell her, to hurt her in this way.

  ‘What’s going on with Portia?’ I repeat, stalling for time.

  ‘Yes, have the three of you had some kind of falling out or something?’

  My relief is palpable.

  ‘It’s ridiculous that you and Si were so excited about seeing her again after all this time, and suddenly she’s become persona non grata, and I can’t understand why.’

  I shrug. ‘You know,’ I say, after a while, ‘it isn’t anything tangible. I think that both Si and I have realized that ten years is a long time, and people change enormously in ten years, and I just don’t think we have that much in common with her any more.’

  Lucy’s about to say something else when the door creaks open and Si staggers in, clutching his head and groaning in mock-agony.

  ‘Fine, thank you,’ I laugh. ‘Nice to see you too.’

&
nbsp; ‘Sssh,’ he says. ‘Hangover.’

  ‘Let me guess… Turnmills again?’

  He nods.

  ‘So you’ve been out clubbing all night and you probably got home at, what, six this morning?’

  Si nods.

  ‘Which would explain why,’ I look at my watch, ‘at five minutes to four in the afternoon you’re still feeling like shit. I hope it was worth it.’

  Si looks up as a grin spreads all over his face.

  ‘Uh oh,’ Lucy laughs. ‘I hope he was worth it.’

  ‘Well, you know what they say,’ Si sounds, and looks, brighter than he has done in ages. ‘The best way of getting over someone is to find someone new.’

  ‘No! Already?’

  ‘Well, not permanently,’ Si says. ‘Definitely not relationship material, but gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, and let’s just say a good time was had by all. Meanwhile back at the ranch, how did the new sexy Lucy go down on Friday night?’

  Lucy sighs. ‘Going down was the last thing on my mind that night.’

  ‘Now Lucy,’ Si admonishes her, ‘didn’t I tell you it should have been the first.’

  ‘I tried. Really, I did, but he didn’t want to know…’

  ‘Oh, Lucy,’ I stroke her arm, and, fuelled by cappuccinos and carrot cake, the full story comes out.

  Josh phoned early Friday afternoon and said he had a meeting but wouldn’t be back later than eight thirty, so Lucy ran up the road to the beauty salon and had her legs waxed, even though they didn’t really need it, just to be on the safe side. Then up to Waitrose, where she strode round the aisles smiling to herself, because here she was, playing the archetypal fifties housewife, shopping mid-afternoon for food for her husband’s dinner, when tucked inside her cupboard at home were bags of gorgeously sexy lacy underwear with which to tempt him later that night.

  She went home and slapped on a cucumber face mask while chopping and peeling, switching the radio on in the kitchen and dancing around in time with the music, feeling, for the first time in a long time, as if she were getting ready for something special.

  At six o’clock, when the casserole was firmly in the oven, the pastry had been carefully laid out over the tarte tatin, Lucy poured four capfuls (‘Four capfuls!’ exclaimed Si) of luxurious and horrendously expensive bubble bath into the hot running water, and lay back feeling excited, and sensuous, and completely relaxed.