The Songbird

by Marcia Willett

  They eat and talk with ease, as if they are old friends, but some subtext tells Fiona that this isn’t necessarily true. There is between them a rather charming shyness. Kat touches his wrist lightly but doesn’t look at him: he stretches out his legs and when they encounter hers he draws back abruptly. It reminds Fiona of the early days with Sam – oh, the thrill and anticipation of those first meetings! – and she feels envious of Kat and her unknown companion.

  They’re not lovers yet, thinks Fiona, but they’re well on the way.

  Her salmon arrives, and she begins to eat, but her attention remains fixed on Kat and the man with her. Now Kat is talking. She makes one of her incredibly elegant and graceful arm movements and nearly knocks his glass of wine over. He grabs at it, managing to save it, and they both explode with laughter. Their plates are cleared away but they barely notice.

  Fiona is riveted, but now there is a distraction. Two newcomers walk in, look around, and go to the bar. They are both women in their sixties, rather alike with their neatly coiffured hair, careful make-up and smart clothes. One begins a conversation with Anton, who is clearly telling her that there is no table free at the moment but the other woman, who has wandered further into the bar to look at the specials board, stops suddenly. Her attention is fixed on Kat and her companion and her unguarded expression – a blend of shock and indignation – makes Fiona want to burst out laughing. She wonders if this woman is his wife and, if she is, how Kat will react.

  Fiona watches the woman watching Kat, sees her sizing up the situation and deciding how to act. Glancing back at her companion, who is still in conversation with Anton, the woman makes her way forward until she is standing at Kat’s table.

  Fiona strains to hear the conversation, laughs out loud at the man’s face, which shows a mix of surprise, horror, and an attempt at polite pleasure. Kat is quite hidden from sight. It is clear that the woman is not his wife but she intends to seize the opportunity to muscle in. She waves her arm to indicate the fullness of the bar and the availability at their table for two more. She has the element of surprise and Fiona sees the man glance helplessly at Kat, not knowing how to refuse her request to join them. Fiona glimpses Kat’s face and begins to laugh again. She pushes aside her empty plate, picks up her bag and gets to her feet.

  ‘Kat,’ she cries, as she approaches their table. ‘Great to see you. Sorry I’m so late but I’m still in time to join you for coffee, aren’t I?’

  The woman turns quickly, Kat is briefly taken aback but almost immediately regains her poise.

  ‘Darling Fi,’ she says, unable quite to hide her relief. ‘I’d almost given you up. Do come and sit down.’

  Fiona smiles at the woman, a bright and dismissive smile calculated to freeze her out, and sits down on the settle beside Kat. The woman hesitates but her friend – who has not noticed the by-play – has quickly bagged the table vacated by Fiona and is now calling insistently to her. Frustrated, she turns away, looking back to say, ‘I’ll see you at the exhibition in Birdwood House on Tuesday then, Jeremy.’

  ‘So,’ says Fiona, dropping her bag on the settle and beaming at him. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything. Do introduce me, Kat.’

  Kat murmurs, ‘Great timing,’ and then more loudly, ‘This is Jerry Fermor. Jerry, this is my cousin William’s wife, Fiona Taylor.’

  Jerry looks ill at ease, almost shocked by Fiona’s unexpected arrival and Kat’s reaction. It’s clear that he feels uncomfortable with this little pantomime and glances anxiously after the woman as if fearing that they have been rude. He shakes Fiona’s hand and she hurries into the breach.

  ‘I’ve only just got down from London,’ she says. ‘The traffic is terrible. I bet you forgot I was coming, Kat, didn’t you?’

  ‘Well, I did, darling,’ Kat admits. ‘Though Charlotte reminded me this morning. But it’s lovely that you’re in time to meet Jerry. He hasn’t been to Brockscombe yet so he hasn’t met the family. You’re the first.’

  ‘Be afraid, be very afraid,’ Fiona warns him jokily. ‘Craziest set-up ever.’

  He smiles at her and she can see he’s beginning to be a little more at ease although the atmosphere he and Kat created has been shattered. They order coffee, and Fiona tells them about the project she’s working on, and presently Jerry gets up and goes to pay the bill at the bar. They both watch him pause to speak to the woman and her companion.

  ‘Who is she?’ Fiona asks.

  ‘Sandra. A rather dreary little friend,’ Kat answers. ‘She clearly thinks I’m poaching, though he’s a free agent. Thanks for that, by the way, Fiona. I’ve clearly underestimated your thespian skills. Were you there all the time?’

  ‘Some of it. You looked so cosy I wasn’t going to interrupt but then I decided I might be the lesser of two evils. He’s rather nice but I’m not sure he’s up to your weight, Kat.’

  ‘Neither am I, but I’m going to give him the opportunity to try.’

  They both laugh and Fiona feels a new and surprising rush of affection for Kat. Something sticks in her mind and she frowns, trying to remember it. Ah, yes. ‘This is my cousin William’s wife, Fiona Taylor.’ That’s what Kat said when she introduced her to Jerry. And, although it’s technically true, it’s not how she is usually perceived any more. It’s as if Kat has given her something to which she can return: something on which she can rebuild her relationship with her family. William’s wife. She’s grateful to Kat who, with reason, has been very much on William’s side since the separation. It feels good to be back in accord rather than cast in the role of the outsider.

  ‘Were you going on somewhere?’ she murmurs to Kat as Jerry puts his wallet in his pocket and heads back. Sandra leans out to detain him, to have another little chat.

  ‘I think it might be wise,’ says Kat, watching them. ‘We hadn’t made any plans beyond lunch.’

  ‘Well, you could take him to Brockscombe. Or you could use my room if you think he’s up to it.’

  They’re both laughing when Jerry gets back to them and Kat stands up.

  ‘Thank you for my nice lunch,’ she says. ‘Would you like to come back to Brockscombe? Fiona will be coming to see her family and we can all have tea together. What d’you think?’

  Fiona can see that Jerry is still slightly off balance, that he is not used to these tricks, and she smiles at him.

  ‘Do come and meet my grandson,’ she says. ‘He’s quite perfect and I don’t get much chance to show him off.’

  It’s such a charming request that Jerry is unable to refuse and they all go out together into the car park.

  ‘We’ll put Jerry in the middle,’ Fiona says, ‘and then he can’t get lost.’

  She watches Kat and Jerry get into their cars and then she unlocks her own and climbs in feeling happy. She’s still amused and exhilarated by the scene, and looking forward now to seeing Ollie and Charlotte – and, later on, William. Fiona reverses out of the space and follows Jerry’s car down the lane.

  Kat glances in her driving mirror once she’s past the roundabout to check that Jerry is still behind her. She’s rather surprised – and amused – at Fiona’s partisanship. The whole scene reminds Kat of just how much fun Fiona could be, and of happy days before she went off to London. Despite her support and love for William, Kat feels a new sense of empathy with Fiona. After all, it would have been hard to resist such a huge career opportunity and it’s possible that, whilst still finding her way in all the excitement and challenge of her new responsibilities, Fiona was probably caught off balance with Sam. Kat guesses that he was a very attractive and experienced man and difficult for Fiona to resist. The working relationship has a very powerful dynamic, as she knows only too well.

  She glances again in her mirror, glimpses Jerry’s serious expression, and makes a little face. It was clear that he wasn’t amused by the way Fiona got rid of Sandra. He was embarrassed, even shocked, and she wonders how he will react once they are alone together again.

  It was being such
a good lunch, too; a follow-up arranged after the film just to keep things moving along. He talked about how he missed his work and his students, of a trip to London to see a new play, of the possibility of joining a local amateur acting group. She was just working towards the suggestion that they might make the London trip together – she wanted to see Miche – when Sandra had come barging in, ruining everything.

  What is now clear to Kat is that she’s slightly misjudged Jerry. She quite expected him to be at one with her over Sandra’s appearance: that he would find it as irritating as she did and be amused by Fiona’s rescue tactics. Instead it has made him uncomfortable. He’s such a good man; kind, rather hesitant, very amusing. He’s so different from Gyorgy, Miche and the others that she’s fascinated by him. She hadn’t wanted to play the family card yet – if at all – but neither had she wanted to leave him at a loose end with Sandra. Fiona’s suggestion was the only immediate option. The important thing is not to rush things.

  Kat indicates right, in plenty of time for Jerry to pick up on it, and brakes, waiting for a gap in the traffic. He follows her down the lane towards the bridge and she pauses to make sure it’s clear before she leads the way over the level crossing and on to Brockscombe.

  As Jerry follows her car he’s experiencing a whole mix of emotions. He can’t remember when he felt such confusion. He’d forgotten what it was like to have such fun without any sense of responsibility. With Kat he can shed his long-familiar role as husband, father, grandfather, and the persona that goes with them, and simply be himself. There are no expectations, no judgements, apart from his own need to keep up with her; to make her laugh, to entertain her. He can hardly believe that she – so famous, so talented – should enjoy his company.

  The lunch was a great success – until Sandra showed up. He’d been so wrapped up in Kat that he hadn’t considered that he might know any of the other diners. Suddenly there was Sandra, with that now-familiar expression that combines eagerness and disapproval; surprised that she should find him and Kat there together but indicating that, given the bar was full, it would be a good idea if she and her friend could share their table.

  He was cross, disappointed, that their tête-à-tête should be so disrupted but good manners insisted that they should be polite about it. Kat’s readiness to side-step the usual courtesies and to enjoy Fiona’s orchestrated arrival rather shocked him and, irritated though he was by Sandra’s intrusion, he felt the need to make up for it by apologizing and then – she was quick to seize her advantage – agreeing to have lunch with her after going to the exhibition. This, in its turn, irritates him even more. He feels manipulated.

  ‘The trouble is,’ Vee used to say, ‘that you’re too nice. You let people walk all over you.’

  It exasperated her to see him attempting to accommodate awkward people, to placate, to restore harmony. However, even he cannot see a mechanism by which he can create any kind of relationship between Kat and Sandra. And he doesn’t want to: they belong in separate parts of his life. Sandra has introduced him to new friends, societies, clubs. Kat is entirely different: she is from another world and he is utterly bewitched by her.

  And now here he is driving out to meet her family, about whom she hasn’t spoken so he doesn’t know quite what to expect. Suddenly this new spirit of adventure she has awoken in him surfaces again, sweeping away irritation and anxiety. His spirits rising, feeling the now-familiar and exciting sensation of being out of his depth, Jerry turns into the courtyard and parks besides Kat’s car.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  BY THE TIME William arrives home the courtyard is quiet. Tim and Kat’s cars are missing though Fiona’s is tucked in beside the barn. At least she’s not in his space this time, he thinks. He is feeling just the least bit grumpy. Singing has been cancelled – two married members on holiday, tenor and soprano, and their musical director unwell – and he’ll miss the company as well as the physical bonus. A couple of hours singing revitalizes him: it’s a great workout for the lungs, the intercostal muscles and the diaphragm, and he always feels more alive, more energetic, for several days after his Friday evening singing.

  As he climbs out of his car, wondering whether to pop in on Francis, Fiona appears from Charlotte’s doorway. She looks in good shape, sexy in her jeans and a loose shirt, smiling at him. Just occasionally he can pretend that they’ve never been apart and then all their familiar ways and shared past click back into place between them. Perhaps it’s because he stopped off at the pub for a pint, he warns himself cynically, but he receives her kiss with something of the old pleasure and his grumpiness recedes.

  ‘You’re looking good,’ he says. ‘Been putting Ollie to bed?’

  ‘I have. I got soaked during bath-time and Charlotte lent me one of Andy’s shirts.’

  She links her arm into his, pulls him close, and he is pierced with lust borne out of familiarity and a sudden need for physical release. Gently he disentangles himself under the pretence of trying to find his door-key whilst he attempts to get a grip on his emotions. She seems intent on following him inside so he drops his briefcase down on the bottom stair and goes through to the kitchen.

  ‘Drink?’ he offers. ‘Did you have a good trip down?’

  ‘Yes to both,’ she answers, perching on a chair at the table, crossing her legs. ‘Lots of traffic, though. I had a very nice lunch at the pub, and guess who was there. Kat and her new man.’

  He can see that she’s hoping to surprise him but he simply pours her a glass of wine and pushes it across the table.

  ‘Ah,’ he says, non-committally. ‘So she introduced you?’

  Fiona looks disappointed. ‘You knew about him, then?’

  ‘Mmm.’ He sits opposite, smiling at her expression. ‘I knew but I haven’t met him. So what’s he like?’

  She’s smiling again, ready to share, to gossip. Just like the old days.

  ‘Not in her league but rather a sweetie. Nice-looking. Sexy in a boy-next-door sort of way. The really funny thing is that there’s another woman competing for him who actually came in while he and Kat were playing footsie under the table.’

  His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and she gives a little crow of delight. She’s always liked to shock him.

  ‘So what happened?’ It’s rather nice to go along with this; to let her entertain him. ‘And where were you all this time?’

  ‘Hiding at a table in the corner. I saw them, you see, and decided to be tactful and steer clear. Then this woman and her friend strolled in. If you could have seen her face, Wills, when she saw Kat and Jerry. God, it was priceless.’

  ‘Jerry? That’s his name?’

  ‘Kat calls him Jerry. The frumpy friend calls him Jeremy.’

  He smiles and frowns and shakes his head. ‘Why?’

  Fiona shrugs, swallows some wine. ‘Shortening a name is a sign of affection, I suppose. I like it, don’t you? That why I call you Wills whilst most people call you William. And you call me Fi.’

  He refuses to pick up on this. ‘So then what happened?’

  ‘Frumpy friend tried to barge in. The bar was full and she was going to pressure them into letting her share their table. I got a glimpse of Kat’s face looking like thunder so I decided to make my entrance. I went over and apologized for being late, sat down next to Kat and saw off frumpy friend with my death stare. You know.’

  She looks at him intently and then very slowly crosses her eyes, and he bursts out laughing. He can’t help himself. This has always been one of her tricks. At parties, across a dinner table surrounded by friends, it was her way of privately expressing amused dislike of something, encouraging him to share the joke.

  Fiona laughs with him, clearly delighted at the success she’s having at this retelling of the story.

  ‘So what happened then?’

  ‘Well, Kat thought my arrival was screamingly funny but Jerry was just a tad discombobulated. I think he felt a bit sorry for frumpy friend. He went over to her when he was paying the bill an
d seemed to be apologizing. Kat wasn’t best pleased but couldn’t decide quite what to do next. I offered my room but we decided he might not be up for it.’

  ‘Honestly, Fi. You didn’t?’

  He hasn’t laughed so much for ages: must be the wine on top of the pint of real ale. She’s laughing too, thoroughly enjoying herself.

  ‘I did. But then I suggested that we should all come out here together. For some reason that seemed to hit the spot. So we came out in convoy, had tea with Charlotte and Ol, and then Kat decided to take Jerry off somewhere.’

  ‘Where?’

  Fiona shrugs. ‘How should I know? Back to his place? Everything was very jolly when they left but it’s not easy to keep up the momentum, darling, when you’re in separate cars.’

  He’s still chuckling, feeling relaxed, in tune with her.

  ‘So are you staying for supper? I could cook.’

  ‘Oh, darling Wills, I’d have loved it but Charlotte offered and I said yes.’

  He’s surprised at how disappointed he feels, but perhaps it’s all for the best. He feels vulnerable and fears that Fi might take advantage to make another bid to pursue her plan for a bolt hole. At times like these he can remember exactly why he fell in love with her, and married her, and he knows he mustn’t allow himself this moment of weakness.

  ‘If Kat doesn’t come back why don’t you come and join us?’ she’s asking. ‘Charlotte won’t mind. You know she loves it when everyone’s together.’

  ‘I might,’ he says. He really doesn’t want to be alone, to cook a lonely supper. He wants feminine company. ‘Perhaps you could go and check, just in case?’

  ‘Sure.’

  She gets up, still looking sexy, infinitely desirable, and heart-rendingly familiar. She hesitates, looking at him, and he’s terrified that she might approach him, touch him, and that then he would simply seize hold of her and kiss her.

  ‘Great.’ He turns a little away from her, pretends to be interested in some letters that are lying on the table. ‘Don’t come back specially. Just send a text and I’ll come on round if it’s OK.’