Croissants and Jam

by Lynda Renham

  ‘Honey, when are you coming home? I’m so excited. We have found the perfect dress. It was just sitting there waiting for me in Proposals,’ Claudine squeals.

  ‘That’s great baby,’ I say and make a mental note to delete Bels’ number after I hang up. I realise the guys are packing up and push it into my pocket deciding to do it later. Everyone is drifting out of the door and I grab my jacket from the back of the chair.

  ‘Chris, could we have a word before you leave?’

  I turn to my accountant Bryn feeling irritated. Matt is looking embarrassed.

  ‘What is it? I really want to go home. This meeting really went on far too long.’

  Matt closes the door, leaving just me, Bryn and him in the room.

  Bryn looks to Matt and I feel myself getting more irritated.

  ‘What the hell is it? Is it to do with the lawsuit?’

  They both seem to shift uncomfortably on their feet.

  ‘It’s a bit delicate, Christian…’

  ‘Just spit it out, I don’t have all day.’

  Bryn produces several sheets of paper and shoves them in front of me.

  ‘Did you sign these? I mean, if you did, that’s fine but you really should run this stuff by me. I can’t do my job properly if you don’t.’

  I look at the contract and swallow. Matt seems to nod and reading my thoughts, he opens a window.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ‘You said there wouldn’t be wind-up penises,’ I say accusingly, walking into the kitchen. I pour cola into a glass for my mother. Kaz hands me a glass of wine.

  ‘I can’t, I’m driving Mother home and first thing in the morning I am collecting Olivia Hammond from the airport.’

  My mother rushes in and looks hurriedly around the kitchen.

  ‘Can I slice celery or something,’ she asks nervously, her cheeks twitching.

  Kaz hands her a knife and points to some French bread.

  ‘The one I went to wasn’t at all like this,’ justifies Kaz as she steps over a plastic penis.

  ‘Come on, those ladies hiding in the kitchen,’ calls the hostess. ‘It’s time to play pass the parcel.’

  Oh God, do we have to?

  ‘I’ll stay in the kitchen and cut the bread,’ Mother offers.

  I reluctantly follow Kaz into the lounge and take my seat for the pass the parcel game. Typically the parcel lands in Kaz’s lap just as the music stops. I am about to take a sigh of relief when she throws it into mine.

  ‘What?’ I cry, but it is too late and the hostess is beaming down at me.

  ‘What is your forfeit?’ she asks, excitedly.

  I look around at the other women who are now pleasantly tipsy from the wine. What on earth am I doing? I only came because I thought there would be lingerie, after all that is what Kaz had said. Instead, we had walked into what my mother had called ‘a soft-porn film’. Although, I did wonder, how she even knew what soft-porn was. Mind you, after tonight she would be left in little doubt. The room is full of soft-porn DVDs and books. I open my forfeit.

  ‘Cup your breasts and sing the first lines of ‘I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts.’

  Encouragingly, the hostess cups her own breasts and nods at me. I squeeze my eyes closed, grab my breasts and sing for all I am worth. I open my eyes to see the hostess is holding out a colourful tube. Oh God, what now?

  ‘Well done, Bella, didn’t she do well? Here, have a free tube of tingle pleasure cream. Now who wants to win a Rampant Rabbit?’

  My mother claps from the kitchen doorway.

  ‘Ooh, that sounds nice, we should get one for Alex’s baby,’ she coos.

  I groan.

  ‘Mother it is not a toy, well it is, but not a soft toy, as such.’

  Kaz smiles at me as several guests parade from the bedroom in the lingerie.

  ‘I’ll heat the pizza,’ I offer and join my mother in the kitchen.

  ‘This is just too awful,’ sighs Mother popping the pizza onto trays. ‘Why did she think your name was Bella? You really should tell people to call you Annabel.’

  The idea of a holiday is becoming decidedly more appealing by the minute. The women are giggling loudly, and I see Kaz has put a frilly red bra over her dress and is now parading around the room.

  ‘And pray, tell me, what exactly is a Rampant Rabbit?’ Mother asks, offering me a pickled onion, which I decline with a shake of my head.

  The phone shrills in the corner and I am saved from any graphic descriptions of Rampant Rabbits that I may have been able to offer. Mother and I look at each other. Kaz is now loitering dangerously close to a large pink vibrator, and I hesitate to take the phone into her. Mother nods decisively at me and answers it.

  ‘Oh hello,’ she says, looking taken aback. ‘Well, she is a bit busy at the moment. We are having an Ann Summers party and there is a lot of… well, stuff going on.’

  She shakes her head as I pass by her to retrieve the potato salad from the fridge.

  ‘Annabel is here though do you want to talk to her? Hold on.’

  I look nonplussed at her.

  ‘Simon,’ she mouths.

  I shake my head frantically. She covers the mouthpiece with her hand.

  ‘What do you mean no? Of course you want to speak to him.’

  I do?

  ‘He obviously wants to speak to you.’

  He does?

  ‘Why didn’t he phone my mobile then? He must want Kaz.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She pushes the phone into my hand leaving me with no choice but to speak to him.

  There is a scream from the living room and I look back to see Kaz sliding seductively around a pink pole that has been erected in the middle of the room. Oh dear.

  ‘Hi, Simon,’ I say hesitantly.

  He coughs loudly.

  ‘Is Kaz around?’

  ‘Actually, she is kind of draped around a pole at the moment. Can I give her a message?’

  ‘What kind of pole?’ he snaps.

  Well, it’s not the North Pole, is it? What is he doing phoning her anyway? He is supposed to be pining over me.

  ‘You know, pole dancing, sexercise, I think it’s called.’

  ‘I’ll call back,’ he says gruffly and hangs up.

  Mother is smiling at me.

  ‘He wanted Kaz,’ I snap and roughly spoon the salad into a dish.

  By the time the pizza and salad are ready, Kaz has finished her pole dancing party piece and sways drunkenly into the kitchen.

  ‘Isn’t it a hoot?’ she laughs.

  ‘Simon phoned and wanted to speak to you. He seemed a bit put out when I said you were pole dancing,’ I say sharply and walk into the living room in a huff. I pour myself some wine and wonder why I am so upset. After all, didn’t I jilt Simon at the altar? Aren’t I in love with his brother? So why the hell am I angry with Kaz because she and Simon are getting along well?

  ‘Here we go ladies, now here is what you have been waiting for, the Push My Buttons Clitoral Vibrator,’ cries the hostess enthusiastically and the guests squeal excitedly.

  ‘Time to go, I think,’ I say resolutely, standing up and stepping on a plastic penis. The hostess heads towards me smiling.

  ‘Oh dear,’ sighs my mother.

  ‘You can’t go,’ cries Kaz rushing towards me from the kitchen, tripping over yet another sodding penis.

  ‘I do hope you will order something,’ smiles the hostess, shoving an order form in my face while collecting up the bits of broken penis. Oh for pity’s sake.

  ‘No, thank you,’ I say politely taking my handbag from the couch and grabbing Mother by the arm.

  ‘There is so much to choose from there must be something you liked?’ she persists.

  Kaz is blocking the doorway and I sigh.

  ‘How about one of our bullets, they are very popular and…’

  I see red.

  ‘Lady, I do not want a bullet, or a gun that fires a thousand volts up my arse while stimulating my clitori
s. I am a woman who is not even having sex right now, so even your crotch-less knickers would be a total waste on me,’ I shout.

  The room goes silent and my mother blushes for me.

  ‘Goodness Annabel, that was rather graphic.’

  Kaz grabs me by the arm, tearing me from my mother and pulls me into the kitchen where she slams the door shut on yet another plastic penis, which bites the dust on impact.

  ‘Okay, I have been seeing Simon, but don’t forget you guys broke up. I have always liked Simon, but, of course, I never said anything when you were together. I thought you wouldn’t mind. I thought it was Simon’s brother Christopher that you liked.’

  I stamp my foot in frustration.

  ‘Christian, his name is Christian.’

  There is a loud thumping on the door and Kaz and I look at each other. I sigh and open it to see my mother wringing her hands.

  ‘They are about to play orgasmic bingo, you can’t leave me out here on my own,’ she says, panic written all over her face.

  God almighty, why is an Ann Summers party beginning to feel like showdown at the OK Corral? I allow my mother into the kitchen and we all stand quiet for a while. Kaz finally breaks the uncomfortable atmosphere.

  ‘If you really don’t like me seeing Simon then I will stop.’

  ‘Are you coming out for the orgasmic bingo?’ calls the hostess cheerily, obviously not in the least upset by my outburst. Mother cringes.

  ‘Go ahead without us Sam. I will be out for the jam tart game,’ Kaz calls back.

  ‘Jam tarts?’ questions my mother.

  ‘Don’t even go there,’ I say wearily.

  Kaz winks at me and I exhale loudly. I feel an overwhelming urge to cry. The truth is I really don’t mind Kaz seeing Simon. In fact, I want them both to be happy, but more than anything I want to be happy. I apologise and give her a hug.

  ‘Of course I don’t want you to stop seeing him.’

  ‘Her period is due,’ chips in Mother, as though this explains everything.

  ‘Honestly, what you won’t do to get out of buying a Rampant Rabbit, Bels,’ smiles Kaz.

  Mum convinces her to let us out the back way. I let Mum walk ahead of me and then turn quickly to Kaz.

  ‘Does Simon ever mention this business with his brother?’ I whisper.

  She shakes her head.

  ‘I only know what you’ve told me. Why?’

  ‘I just can’t believe Christian is capable of something so awful. I mean, to sue your own father…’ I trail off.

  She pulls a face.

  ‘You hardly knew him Bels. You probably don’t know what he is capable of.’

  I nod miserably. She is quite right I suppose. I kiss her goodnight and hurry to my mother who is waiting by the car. We are silent the whole way home and I am grateful for that. I pull up outside my parents’ house and Mother kisses me on the cheek.

  ‘I told your father it was a Tupperware party. I would prefer it stayed that way.’

  I nod.

  ‘You look tired dear, you need that holiday.’

  I return her wave and decide she is absolutely right. I do need a holiday. I decide to start looking at brochures the very next day.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ‘India did us a great favour slipping on the slopes, so to speak.’

  Justin gleefully closes the portfolio and claps his hands.

  ‘Olivia, you saved our corporate arse.’ He smiles at Olivia and clinks his champagne glass against her orange juice.

  Justin has kindly arranged a farewell lunch for Olivia, who will be leaving today, and as a special surprise, we arranged the whole photo shoot into a portfolio for him.

  ‘I had something to do with it too,’ I clink my glass also and feel quite proud of myself.

  ‘I would suggest you take a holiday, but I have already instructed you to do that,’ Justin grins at me.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Olivia asks.

  I cut into my smoked salmon and memories of Jack enter my head. I feel rather bad about him as I never did return his calls. On reflection, of course, he may have decided he did not want to see me anymore. I push him from my mind and smile at Olivia.

  ‘I have still to decide.’

  She looks thoughtful, picks up her fork and then puts it down again. I look at her admiringly and realise much of the male clientele is doing the same. She looks stunning in a simple Versace dress which clings to her hips almost sensually. A white linen jacket is draped around her shoulders and I stare enviously at her long jet-black hair, which falls in soft curls around her cheeks. She is a beautiful woman and one of the nicest friends. We had spent two whole weeks together. Working in the studio in the mornings, then shopping in the afternoons and finally, dinner together in the evenings. Robin phoned every day and it was nice speaking to him too. We only discussed Christian the first night and I never mentioned him again, and neither did Olivia. There seemed little point if she had not seen him since our visit. I was desperate for news of him, however, so it was quite disappointing to think he had not been in touch with either of them. It seems his time is very much taken up with Claudine and their wedding preparations.

  ‘This is an awful cheek Bels, but I don’t suppose you want to come to France do you?’

  I feel my eyes widen. France? Oh God, all those memories of Christian. I couldn’t possibly go back to France.

  ‘I’d just love to go to France again.’

  Justin pours more champagne and cocks his head to one side.

  ‘French men, ooh la la,’ he laughs.

  Olivia’s eyes light up.

  ‘It’s just, we booked a holiday in India and Martha, our housekeeper… Do you remember me mentioning her?’

  Justin looks quizzically at me over his glasses. I avoid his eyes. I hadn’t told him just how I contacted Olivia, but now I suppose I will have to.

  ‘Yes, I remember.’

  ‘She always keeps a check on the house. The house is our pride and joy, well you saw it.’

  Justin removes his glasses, coughs slightly and stares at me.

  ‘I visited Olivia in her home on the way to my wedding,’ I explain, sensing his curiosity would not go away unless I said something.

  ‘Ah,’ he nods, as though that explains everything.

  Olivia goes on to explain that Martha normally stays at the house when they go away, but her daughter recently had a serious car accident, and Martha has decided to go and stay with her for a month to help the family out. So, I find myself agreeing to house-sit their home in France. Two weeks at Treetops. I tell myself this is serendipity. After all, I had been having difficulty choosing a holiday destination and now here it was.

  ‘Here is the address,’ says Olivia handing me her card. ‘You can use our car and I will leave a map of all the best places to shop. You will have a great time. I will leave the key in the outhouse in a jar marked pulses.’

  Her excitement is contagious and I find myself looking forward to it. I punch the house alarm numbers into my phone.

  ‘You have my mobile number, so phone me if you think of anything. We fly out in a week so there is time for both of us to think of things. I will get Claude, our gardener, to collect you from the airport. Oh this is so great Bels. I can’t think of a better person to have in the house, and you will love it there.’

  The rest of the lunch just whizzes by as Olivia and I discuss the house, her plants, places I should visit, people to phone if there are any problems and the best places to eat.

  ‘I will tell Georgia, she owns our favourite restaurant that you are coming, she will reserve a table for you every night. You will adore the food.’

  By the time I kiss her goodbye I am trembling with excitement at the prospect of my trip. Any nagging doubts I had concerning memories of Christian are quickly forgotten. Justin arranges a car to take her to the airport and I wave her off happily.

  ‘You had better toddle off sweetie and do some holiday shopping,’ laughs Justin and after
kissing him on the cheek I do just that.

  ***

  ‘France? I thought you were going to India,’ exclaims Mother from beneath her face mask.

  I drop my shopping bags onto the floor and stare horrified at the large slices of grapefruit on her eyes and then smile at Petra, my mother’s Polish beautician who I’m sure has no idea what she’s doing.

  ‘Shouldn’t you have cucumber slices on your eyes?’ I ask, attempting not to sound critical of Petra.

  ‘Oh, we couldn’t find any,’ she says, gently removing the grapefruit from one eye and peering at my shopping bags.

  ‘Ooh, you’ve been to Monsoon,’ she says enviously.

  I pull my purchases out and scatter them around me. Petra applies wax sheets to Mother’s legs and I feel myself tense.

  ‘Actually, I never said I was going to India. Do you want some camomile tea?’ I ask thoughtfully as Petra grabs the sheet and yanks it.