by Jane Lythell
My arms and legs were sore from the class last night and I had a good long soak in the bath. I spent the rest of the morning fussing around Flo, overcompensating because I was going away. Douglas arrived and I brought him in.
‘Flo, come and meet Douglas,’ I called.
She came out of her room but stood on the threshold with her arms crossed as he tried to make conversation. He asked her about the fashion shoot. She wasn’t rude but she wasn’t the friendly, charming girl she can be sometimes. She was watching us like a hawk as I showed him around our home and it made me feel awkward.
‘I guess we need to get on our way,’ I said.
I had a last-minute tremor about leaving Flo. Maybe she was really nervous about the shoot tomorrow and here I was leaving her to deal with it on her own. I went to give her a hug.
‘Janis will be here by four, sweetheart, and I’ll call you when we reach the hotel. And Harriet will pick you up at quarter to nine on Sunday.’
‘I know, Mum. You already told me that,’ she said.
I have a habit of repeating myself when I’m anxious. She followed us out and Douglas put my bag in the boot of his dark grey Saab. Flo’s expression was watchful as I kissed her on the cheek. We set off for Sussex and in spite of my guilt it felt good to be getting out of London.
‘Tell me about your friend and his hotel.’
‘Dan, he’s a good bloke. He ran a bar in Shoreditch, which then became a second and then a third bar. Against everyone’s expectations it turns out he’s a brilliant businessman. He made a mint when he sold the bars. But this hotel is a major step up for him.’
‘I can imagine. How did you meet?’
‘He was married to Claire’s best friend at school and she introduced us.’
My stomach contracted. Did this mean that Claire Cooper-Pitlochry was going to be at the opening? I found the idea of an encounter with her alarming.
‘They split up a while back. It was a nasty divorce. Claire stayed friends with his ex and Dan and I, well, he’s a good mate and we’ve got closer recently.’
Since they both broke up with their wives, I thought. I relaxed. Of course Douglas would never be so crass as to invite me to an event where his estranged wife would be present.
He played David Bowie tracks through his speakers and we made good time getting out of London. As we reached Arundel he turned on his satnav.
‘The next bit is all twists and turns and it’s easy to miss his turning,’ he said.
He drove along a series of smaller roads which were framed by trees meeting overhead to make a tunnel of green dappled light. The hedgerows were a mass of wildflowers, and birds dipped and swooped in front of the car. Douglas drove slowly round a deep corner and we reached two gateposts. Stone lions sat atop each of the gateposts and as we turned between them there was a vista of mature trees lining a long drive. The hotel came into view, an elegant Georgian building with two other barn-like buildings standing behind it. Douglas parked and turned off the engine and we sat and looked out.
‘It’s a boutique hotel and he’s got fifteen rooms. There are eight in the house and seven in that great barn,’ he said.
The barn had been converted and had skylights in its roof.
‘And the third building?’
‘He uses that for staff accommodation.’
‘And you’ve been here before?’
‘Oh yes, when Dan was planning the refurbishment I spent two weeks here and we camped in the house. I painted some of the upper corridors.’
‘Really?’
‘Nothing too demanding. Dan’s done a huge amount to get it to this point.’
Douglas carried his bag and mine and we entered the main house to find Dan standing there.
‘Dougie! So glad you made it.’
He was a broad-shouldered stocky man with ginger hair and warm brown eyes.
‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’
They did that punching each other on the shoulder thing which men do when they’d like to hug but feel it would be too much.
‘This is Liz Lyon.’
‘Welcome, Liz.’
We shook hands and he was looking at me with interest, taking the measure of Douglas’s new woman.
‘What a setting with those magnificent trees,’ I said.
‘Aren’t they wonderful? There are some ancient trees in the mix. And it’s a ten-minute walk to the beach from here. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.’
He had allocated us a room in the main house on the first floor. It was pretty, with pale yellow walls and dark wood furniture.
‘Get comfortable. There’s tea and coffee in the main sitting room or something stronger if you prefer it. I’m needed in the kitchen.’
He left us and we stood and grinned at each other. Our room was dominated by the large and luxurious bed with a thick duvet covered by a white bedspread. Douglas hauled our bags onto the bed. I went into the bathroom which was a splendid affair with a free-standing bath on claw legs and a large shower with a rainforest fitting.
‘Great bathroom, come look,’ I said.
He joined me in there.
‘That bath is big enough for the two us,’ he said.
He put his arms around me and we embraced.
‘You can scrub my back,’ he said.
‘It will be my pleasure but I’m going to unpack now because I’ve got a dress for tonight and it needs to hang.’
Douglas pulled off his shoes and arranged two pillows behind his back and sat on the bed watching me as I hung up my dress and chattered nervously. I carried my wash things into the bathroom. I locked the door and used the toilet, flushing it as I peed so he couldn’t hear. I knew I was being faintly ridiculous. This whole weekend was about getting intimate. He took two minutes to unpack. I called Flo but she didn’t pick up and it went to answer machine. I said we’d arrived safely and she could WhatsApp me as the phone signal was patchy but the Wi-Fi was good.
‘I’m not ready to mingle with the other guests. Shall we go for a walk and I’ll show you the beach?’ he said.
We headed for the wood beyond the converted barn. There was a gully running down the side of an overgrown path and you could hear water gurgling over stones. It got darker as we went in deeper. There was some leaf fall and that earthy, musky smell you get in woods. Mushroom smell, my mum calls it. We heard movement in the canopy of trees above us and small rustlings at our feet but we didn’t encounter anyone as we followed the twists and turns of the path. We emerged and the horizon appeared in front of us; bright and open after the dark spaces of the wood. The beach was divided by wooden breakwaters stretching in orderly sequence to our right and our left. A gull sat on the post of the breakwater closest to us, surveying the scene. It was a pebble beach and I was glad I’d changed into my walking boots.
We crunched over the pebbles, hand in hand, a light wind in our face. In the distance I saw a woman throwing a ball for her border collie and the dog splashing into the waves to retrieve it. After about fifteen minutes of the pebbles we reached a small bay and there was a patch of sand. We sat down and I breathed in deeply.
‘This is wonderful. Flo and I don’t get out of London enough.’
‘Stew and I like to get away at weekends if we can.’
He picked up a shell and examined its pink interior and handed it to me.
‘That’s a pretty one,’ I said.
We watched the waves coming in and I was lulled by their hypnotic rhythm and didn’t feel the need to say anything.
‘I find the sound of the sea comforting, probably from all those holidays in Sheringham. I remember an argument I had with my mum once. We were trying to describe what the sea sounds like and I said it roared but she said it growled,’ he said.
‘It’s more of a loud whisper today,’ I said.
‘It’s a gentler coastline here than on the east coast, a lot less exposed.’
‘And no sandy cliffs to climb either.’
He smiled at that and put his arm around me. He started to talk about Stewart, how he spent more time with him now, more time than he used to, and he was glad about that.
‘He’s taken the break-up hard, you see. I guess being an only child you feel responsible for your parents. So he keeps trying to set up meetings between Claire and me and they always end up with recriminations and drive us even further apart.’
‘Flo is possessive about me too. That’s why she was prickly with you.’
‘She was OK. I understood where it was coming from. They don’t want to share us, do they?’
‘I guess she still hopes that Ben and I could get back together, though she must know that isn’t going to happen,’ I said.
‘He’s in Dubai, right?’
‘Since last December.’
The woman with the collie passed us. He was a fine-looking dog and was running along by the sea’s edge, his tail in the air and his posture joyful.
‘That’s a happy dog,’ Douglas said to the woman.
‘Oh yes, he just loves to paddle,’ she said.
As we walked back to the hotel Douglas told me how he had always wanted a dog, a proper dog a labrador or a collie, but Claire had refused point blank saying dogs brought in mud and destroyed furniture.
*
It was the sort of hotel that comes into its own in the autumn and winter; deep sofas, logs piled in a basket by the fireplace and thick emerald green curtains, not yet drawn. I took my boots off at the door and we sank down on one of the sofas and Douglas fetched us each a brandy.
‘To warm us up before we get ready for dinner,’ he said.
I snuggled up to him and we watched the light through the windows change as the sun started to sink slowly behind the trees. I was held in a cocoon of contentment.
*
Thirty guests had been invited to the opening and they were a mixture of Dan’s friends and food and travel writers. As we were getting changed, Douglas said Dan had invited a few money men along too.
‘He needs to raise some extra cash and hopes this weekend will wow them.’
He zipped me into my little black dress.
‘Suits you,’ he said.
I kissed him on the cheek but he pulled me to him and kissed me on the lips.
‘Ready?’ he said.
I put in my crystal drop earrings and we walked down the staircase hand in hand. We had been asked to assemble in the main sitting room at seven-thirty and everything was done to make us feel cherished. We were offered an aperitif of champagne or Tio Pepe. Most of the people there recognised Douglas and were taking covert looks at me to establish who his date might be. There was one guest there who I wished had not spotted me: Austin Lane. He used to work at StoryWorld, on the money side. I hardly knew him as I’d been in a junior role at the time, but I knew that he and Julius were still in touch. He noted that I was with Douglas Pitlochry and gave me a small nod across the room. I wondered if he was going to approach us but Dan came just then.
‘Please take your time but we’d like to know your choice for the main course before you sit down. Can you mark your card and put your name on the top.’
He circled the room handing each of us a handwritten menu and a small gold pencil. He stood next to us as we read through the menu. There were four dishes on offer: fish, meat, poultry and a vegetarian choice called a pithivier which I had never heard of.
‘What is pithivier?’
‘It’s a traditional French pastry in the shape of a dome and we’ve filled ours with roasted butternut squash, blue cheese and walnuts,’ Dan said.
‘I’m going to try that.’
‘Good choice.’
I circled the dish with my pencil and printed my name at the top. Douglas chose the roast pheasant and Dan took our cards.
‘Now, do you think I should put in a croquet course? There’s plenty of room for one, or is that twee?’ he said.
‘No, it’s a nice idea,’ Douglas said.
‘I agree. It will get people out and admiring your grounds,’ I said.
*
We were both slightly drunk when we said goodnight to Dan and congratulated him on the marvellous food and wine. We found our way up the stairs and Douglas had difficulty getting the key to our room to work and I started to giggle which was uncool of me. Douglas pulled the bedspread off and we fell onto the bed and undressed each other. He laddered my tights as he pulled them off. At last we were naked and able to feel each other’s bodies. It started as an awkward fumble and became more and more intense and satisfying. I had worried momentarily about his back but it wasn’t a problem. Afterwards, we lay under the duvet with my head on his chest and the smell of sex between us and it felt so good. I hadn’t had sex for a year and realised I had shut down the part of myself that wanted it. We rolled over and cuddled and fell asleep.
On Sunday morning Douglas got up and went into the bathroom. I heard him turn the taps on.
‘I’m running us a bath,’ he called out.
‘Lots of bubbles, please.’
On the bedside table there was headed stationery and postcards featuring the hotel. I took a postcard, addressed it to Fenton and wrote on the back:
Fourth date. Magic! Liz xxx
I’d post it later.
*
The breakfast was as splendid as the dinner. There was a silver tureen of porridge with a choice of cream, honey, maple syrup and even whisky to add to it. Whisky at breakfast! The full English was all local produce or you could order haddock cooked in milk, or kippers. Douglas chose the kippers. He spread butter and marmalade thickly on his toast and took one bite of kipper and a bite of toast and marmalade.
‘That’s a strange mix,’ I said.
‘A discovery I made some years ago. You must try it; the sweetness of the marmalade is perfect with the salty kippers.’
Austin Lane walked in and he nodded at me but did not approach our table. Douglas saw me noticing him.
‘You know him, don’t you?’
‘He used to work at StoryWorld when I was a lowly researcher,’ I said.
‘I’ve seen half a dozen folks I know. They’ve had the good manners to keep their distance. Now, Sunday newspapers by the fire or another walk?’
‘I’m feeling awfully lazy,’ I said.
We took the papers to our room and got back into bed.
*
The traffic was awful on our return to London. I’d started to feel tense and Douglas picked up on this and reassured me that he’d get me back to my flat by four p.m. as promised. Flo had WhatsApped me this morning when she was in the taxi with Harriet en route to the shoot, but I’d heard nothing since. There would have been no opportunity for her to contact me while the shoot was going on and I would hear all about it soon enough. We drew up outside my flat at ten to four and he switched off the engine.
‘Thank you for getting me back on time.’
‘The time flew by,’ he said.
He leaned over and we kissed and nuzzled for a few minutes. I didn’t want our weekend to end. He got out, retrieved my case and carried it to my door.
‘I’ve had a wonderful time,’ I said.
‘Me too. I’m going to make myself scarce now because Florence needs your full attention.’
We hugged for a long moment and then he was gone.
It was nearly six and I had unpacked and still there was no sign of Flo. I looked in her bedroom. She must have been trying on lots of outfits before she left for the shoot because half her clothes were piled on her bed. My mobile pinged and it was a text from Harriet.
In the cab and nearly at yours. Flo is upset.
☹ Hx
I texted straight back.
Why upset? Lx
No answer came back and I went and stood on the pavement, scanning our road for an approaching taxi. I was trying to think what could have upset Flo. Finally I saw the taxi chugging up our road and I waved. Flo got out and as she said goodbye I heard Harriet say:
&nbs
p; ‘You looked fantastic, the best of the three, honestly.’
Flo had her head down and she rushed past me and into the flat. Once inside she burst into tears.
‘He made me look like a freak, like something out of American Horror Story!’
She flung herself into her room, pushed all the clothes off the bed and sobbed into her pillow. I sat and waited for the storm of emotion to subside. Finally, she sat up and rubbed at her face. I handed her a tissue. She was wearing a dark lipstick I had never seen before, plum in colour. It was smeared and her lips were swollen from the crying.
‘Mum you have to get him to edit me out. They can’t put it out on TV.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Her eyes widened and she groaned.
‘Oh my God, I told all my friends about it. They can’t see it. They can’t!’
‘Calm down, sweetie, and tell me what’s wrong.’
‘I hated what he made me wear. I hated the make-up and the way they made my hair all wild and curly. The other two girls looked normal but I looked like a freak.’
More noisy tears followed this.
‘But I heard Harriet say you looked fantastic,’ I said.
‘I looked horrible but I couldn’t say anything because he works for you!’
She was becoming angry now.
‘Why did you ever let me do it? Everyone’s going to laugh at me when they see it. You have to stop it going out.’
She threw herself back on her pillow. I reminded myself that no matter how self-dramatising and silly teenagers can be, I must not make light of her concerns.
‘Have you eaten anything, darling?’
Her only response was more noisy tears. Flo has a tendency to get emotional when her blood sugar is low. Maybe if I could get some food into her she would calm down.
‘I’m going to make you some cheese on toast,’ I said.
I got the grater out. What I really wanted to do was to call Fenton and tell her all about my heavenly weekend and relive it in the telling. I was like a silly lovesick teenager myself and it would not do for Flo to hear what a wonderful time I’d had.
24
StoryWorld TV station, London Bridge
As soon as the morning meeting was over I asked Harriet if she would show me the rushes of the fashion shoot.