Out of Step

by Maggie Makepeace

  ‘Is this an erogenous zone?’

  ‘No,’ Malachy said, rolling over suddenly and entering her in two fluid movements. ‘But this is!’

  ‘The over-fifties can’t do this, you know.’ She lay on her back with her knees wide apart, laughing at him. ‘They need at least two hours for todger-turnaround time.’

  ‘I’m not one of your limp statistics.’ He held himself large, but quite still inside her, teasing. Elly began to wriggle, urging him to move, feeling the swelling crescendo of orgasm beginning again, but needing him to drive it for her. ‘So, what am I?’ he asked, a now familiar game.

  ‘You’re amazing.’

  Little thrust. ‘And?’

  ‘Extraordinary.’

  ‘And?’ He began a delicate rhythmic movement. She lifted her pelvis to meet him, holding on to his buttocks, to engulf as much of him as deeply as possible.

  ‘Wonder… ful… please… now!’

  And only then did he begin to give her what she wanted. She opened her eyes briefly just before the climax and saw that his were wide, and suffused with triumph. He has me just where he wants me, she thought. Then, in amazement: And I love it!

  Nell cooked Rob an impromptu supper of spaghetti carbonara, using the ham she’d intended for her own meal, and a small tin of mushrooms she had in hand for emergencies. He sat on the other side of the kitchen table from her, looking, she thought, surprisingly shy. She handed him a bottle of cider and, just as he was pouring it, the power failed and all the lights went out.

  ‘Damn!’

  ‘Sit tight,’ Nell said. ‘I think I can find my torch in the dark.’ She felt her way to the wall, and round to her dresser where it was kept. ‘I’ve got candles too,’ she said, ferreting through a drawer by torchlight. ‘… Yes, here’s some.’

  ‘And matches?’

  ‘Over on the mantelpiece.’

  Rob reached for them and, taking the candles from her, lit them one by one and dripped their wax on to a couple of plates to stick them upright. Nell sat down again and began winding spaghetti onto her fork.

  ‘You look as though you belong here,’ Rob said.

  ‘I do.’ She smiled across at him in the flickering half-light.

  ‘Yes, but I meant … Oh I don’t know … as though you’d always been here.’

  ‘That’s exactly how it seems to me.’

  ‘I used to feel that way too.’

  Is he hinting? Nell wondered. Does he want me to invite him to stay again? Maybe … But I’m not going to risk being turned down a second time. If he’s changed his mind and really does want to lodge in my spare room, then he’ll have to make the effort and ask me himself.

  ‘Is this all right?’ she asked, of the food.

  ‘Delicious. More cider?

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘There are often power cuts here,’ Rob said. ‘But they don’t usually last long.’

  ‘Well, at least we’ll still keep warm,’ Nell said. ‘Thank goodness the heating isn’t electric.’

  ‘How is the woodburner?’

  ‘Difficult,’ Nell said. ‘It still smokes horribly first thing.’

  ‘Most probably needs its chimney cleaning out. Wood produces a lot of tar as well as soot, you know. You need someone experienced to sort it out for you.’ He smiled at her. ‘Maybe I could help?’

  ‘Maybe you could,’ carefully noncommittal. He’s so different on his own from when he’s in a crowd of people, Nell thought, remembering the party on the houseboat. Perhaps Malachy/Bert puts him off his stroke; represses him in some way.

  ‘Tell me about your father,’ she invited him.

  ‘Why?’ He looked guarded at once.

  ‘No reason. I’m just interested.’

  ‘Everybody is always more interested in him,’ he said lightly, but with feeling.

  ‘No, I didn’t mean it that way. I don’t care about “The Actor” image. I wondered what he was like as a father. Did you inherit your ease with children from him?’

  ‘Not really,’ Rob said. ‘He’s only “easy” in public.’

  ‘You don’t like him very much, do you?’

  ‘We’ve never got on very well, no.’

  ‘That’s a shame. What about your mother?’

  ‘She committed suicide when I was nine.’

  Nell held his gaze across the table. His face was only half illuminated; black on one side, and unreadable. She dropped her eyes first. ‘But that’s dreadful. How did you manage?’

  ‘We had an exciting life, travelling about in the States and Europe, wherever Bert happened to be working.’

  ‘But who looked after you?’

  ‘Oh, Bert wasn’t alone for long. He attracted a succession of failed actresses, all dying to play the maternal rôle.’

  ‘Did you realise what was going on, then?’

  ‘I had a pretty fair idea. Then years later I learnt to distinguish his favourite mistresses from the overnight stands.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Easy. After he’s got them hooked he always buys them the same egocentric present.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘A green malachite necklace.’

  ‘Mmm,’ Nell said appreciatively. ‘Well, I suppose it beats a box of chocolates.’

  Rob stared into his wine and said nothing.

  Nell did a quick mental subject-trawl, but could only come up with small talk. ‘So, how’s the new caravan coming along? Will the guy ropes be like those on a tent?’

  Rob raised his head and made a face of mock despair. ‘It’s not going to happen at all. It appears the site owner was underinsured so he’s decided to sell up in the New Year and call it a day.’

  ‘So what will you do?’

  ‘Find somewhere else. I’ve got to be out before Christmas, in fact. He’s having family to stay.’

  But that’s in less than a week! Where will you go? Nell thought, No, I’m not asking him that. ‘What are you doing for Christmas?’

  ‘Taking the children up to London to stay with Bert. It’s my turn to have them this year. They’re fond of him for some reason and they love London.’

  ‘Is Cassie home yet?’

  ‘Yes, she is.’

  ‘And will she make a fuss about letting them go?’

  ‘I just don’t know. She used to be so desperate to get rid of them, but now it’s all “Mic this” and “Mic that”. God knows what the two of them get up to together.’

  ‘Really?’ Nell raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Who can tell? You’d think with my cosmopolitan background I’d know all there is to know about human behaviour, wouldn’t you? The truth is, it confounds me every time.’ The lights came on again as he was speaking and, to Nell’s disappointment, the intimate atmosphere vanished in the glare of several 100-watt bulbs.

  They ate cheese and fruit and talked about the weather, and the likelihood of global warming, and how far up the Torrent valley would become inundated if the polar icecaps were to melt. It’s interesting stuff, Nell thought, but too impersonal. I’d like to know more about him and what he’s really thinking.

  ‘Coffee?’ she offered.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘And then I’d better go and make up the spare bed for you. I’m afraid it will have to be blankets; I’ve only got one duvet.’

  ‘Fine,’ Rob said. ‘I prefer blankets anyway.’

  Making a bed with someone is an activity usually attended by an easy familiarity, Rob thought as Nell handed him a pillowcase to stuff. Strangers do not make beds together. Not of course that Nell is a stranger, she’s a very comfortable person to be with, but it’s odd to be spreading bedclothes with her. They folded the top sheet back over the blankets in unison, one on either side of the bed.

  ‘Will you be warm enough?’ Nell asked.

  ‘I’m sure I will. In the caravan I used to top up my bedding with an old overcoat my father brought back from Moscow. It’s immensely thick and heavy. I think Bert only gave it to me because he got
too broad for it, or maybe because it’s in a very tatty condition, especially now after the storm. We call it the dead Russian.’

  Nell laughed. ‘I wouldn’t fancy sleeping under one of those.’ They tucked in the sides of the bed and stood back.

  ‘Look,’ Rob said, suddenly shy again, ‘Don’t let me mess up your entire evening. Just do what you’d normally be doing, and I’ll fit in with that.’

  ‘It’s no big deal,’ Nell said. ‘Some reading of newspapers, a bit of telly – that’s about it.’

  They sat in her sitting room by an open fire. Nell read the real life section, and Rob the business pages. Then they watched a programme on BBC2 and Nell got out her needlepoint and sewed a bit more of her unicorn design, putting in the shading on its mane with soft brown and beige wool.

  ‘I can’t do the background in artificial light,’ she said. ‘I can’t tell the different greens apart.’

  ‘What’s it for?’

  ‘A cushion cover? I don’t know really. I just like doing it.’

  Rob put another log on the fire and watched her in amusement as she threaded the ends of wool carefully under previous stitches on the back, before snipping them off with scissors. He thought: I’d like to have had a sister. This could be the nearest I’ll ever get to one. I was such a fool to turn down her offer! I do wish I could make fast off-the-cuff decisions, but somehow I never do, and I always live to regret it. Maybe I’ll get another chance. I can’t very well bring it up now; she’s more than likely changed her mind … I can still help her with practical things, though. After all, I do know this place better than anybody.

  ‘I’ve just had a thought,’ he said.

  ‘Mmm?’ Nell was threading up some ginger-coloured wool.

  ‘Yes. When this snow begins to thaw, any that may have got in under the tiles will start to drip through your ceilings upstairs.’

  ‘Oh stuff!’ Nell exclaimed, pursing her lips (nice full lips). ‘That’s a pain. What’s the best thing to do?’

  ‘When it happened to me years ago, I went up into the roof space and rolled the snow into as many snowballs as I could, and chucked them down the hatch into the bath,’ Rob said. ‘I couldn’t get it all out, of course, but enough to prevent the plaster on the ceilings below from collapsing. And it all dried out eventually.’

  ‘Right,’ Nell said, considering. ‘But not tonight, I think.’

  ‘Not while it’s still snowing, no.’

  ‘They’re forecasting a freeze for several days, aren’t they? So there’s no immediate panic. I’ll do it before the thaw.’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ Rob said, ‘I must try to get in to work. I’ve got a difficult client on my back, and I’ve got some important figures to sort out. Could I phone Tom now? He’ll pull the Rover out for me in the morning, I’m sure.’ And later in the week, after work, he thought, I’ll come back and give you a hand with your arctic attic-full. He was pretty sure there would be a lot of snow up there, but he didn’t say this to Nell. He wasn’t about to alarm her unduly about the unpleasant task ahead.

  At 9 p.m. Nell went up to turn on her electric blanket, and offered Rob a hot-water bottle.

  ‘No thanks.’

  ‘I thought you weren’t the macho type?’ she teased. ‘I won’t tell anyone, honestly.’

  ‘Oh, go on then.’

  Later, lying in the unfamiliar bed with his toes cosily warm on the woolly hot-water bottle cover, he reflected wryly on his fears about staying at the cottage with Nell. What a berk I am, he thought. Why on earth was I worried about ‘complications’? Is she after my body? Is she hell!

  Next morning at first light he woke with a start to the sound of a working diesel engine outside. He threw on his clothes and looked out of the window. A large yellow tractor with a snowplough on the front had just finished clearing the turning circle as far as Nell’s blue Citroën and, on seeing him at the window, the driver reversed over and opened his cab door for a word.

  ‘Mornin’,’ he said cheerfully, switching off the engine and looking up at Rob. ‘Overslept, then?’

  ‘Morning, Tom. Yes. I haven’t been used to a decent bed lately.’ Rob rubbed his eyes.

  ‘You quite sure you wants diggin’ out, or do I leave ee bide a few days more?’

  ‘Today would be ideal thanks.’ Rob strove to keep a straight face.

  ‘An’ what was you playin’ at then, up over? Rally drivin’ in reverse, was it?’

  ‘Something like that. I’ll come down.’

  Rob went downstairs. Nell was in the kitchen, fully dressed, making tea. ‘Would he like a mug?’ she asked. ‘Only I thought I’d let you deal with him in case it was, you know … embarrassing.’

  ‘I’ll ask him. Thanks.’ Rob was unaccustomed to such sensitivity. He put on his parka and boots.

  ‘Tea?’ he offered Tom.

  ‘Had some before I came out, thanks.’

  ‘What’s the top road like?’

  ‘Handsome. Gritters have bin along. I reckon ‘twill all be away come tomorrer.’

  ‘I’ll pop back before I get off to work,’ Rob called to Nell.

  ‘OK.’

  ‘You’m well in there,’ Tom said with a wink. ‘Got your old place back an’ all!’

  Rob climbed into the cab of the tractor. ‘I wish,’ was all he said.

  ‘I am totally, utterly, miserably pissed off!’ Anna said, the moment Nell lowered herself into the swimming pool the following morning.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Nell said. ‘Why?’

  She looks genuinely concerned, Anna thought. She’s a good person. Perhaps I shouldn’t make use of her. But it’s a perfect opportunity, so what the hell! ‘I just hate the bloody winter,’ she said. ‘It’s dark and cold, and the Boss hardly comes down at all these days. I suppose I’m just plain lonely, but it’s at times like Christmas when it really gets to me. Would you believe he’s just told me he’s taking Ermintrude and the kids skiing on Boxing Day for ten whole days! So just when I most need him, he won’t be there. Story of my life! How could he do that to me?’

  ‘Well… I suppose he has responsibilities …’

  ‘So why can’t they sodding well ski here? There’s been enough snow!’

  ‘It isn’t quite the same thing though, is it?’

  Anna ignored this. ‘I mean, why take crappy Ermintrude anyway? She probably can’t even stay upright.’ She was pretty sure she could see Nell thinking, Oh yes she can! And decided to give her another clue. ‘And the brats are too young anyway.’

  ‘Are they boys or girls?’

  ‘Boys.’ Anna stared Nell out. She knows, Anna thought. I’m sure of it. So why doesn’t she just come out with it? I need her to guess, or my plan won’t work …

  ‘What sort of an age?’ Nell asked.

  ‘Sevenish? I dunno. I don’t really care. Anyway, I can’t go on like this. It’s really fucking me up. So I’ve decided…’ She put on a determined but defensive expression.

  ‘Decided what?’

  ‘That I’m going to have him. I need him, and I’m fed up always coming second best. And he doesn’t love her anyway; he’s told me so. So I’m going to reason with him and make him leave her.’ That should do the trick!

  ‘But you can’t do that!’ Nell looked horrified.

  ‘Watch me.’

  ‘But it’s immoral! You can’t just steal someone else’s husband.’

  ‘Happens all the time. Look around you.’ Anna shrugged.

  This was clearly too much for Nell. ‘Look,’ she said. ‘I’m going to have to be straight with you. I know who “The Boss” is. I found one of your earrings on his houseboat.’ She stared Anna in the face.

  Anna pretended to flinch. ‘Oh God!’ Good! ‘How long have you known?’

  ‘Since March.’

  ‘So why on earth didn’t you say? I thought we were friends.’

  ‘Ermintrude – as you so dismissively call her – is my best friend,’ Nell retorted stoutly. ‘She and I were at school together.’


  ‘Oh shit!’ Anna said. ‘I honestly had no idea of that. What can I say? You haven’t told her, have you?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘And you won’t, will you? Please promise me? I need to be able to choose the right time to talk to Paul. Otherwise the whole thing could just fall apart, and it’s my whole life…’ She put her hand on Nell’s shoulder and gazed at her as beseechingly as she could.

  Nell shook her off. ‘Why should I help you? It’s Elly I care about.’

  ‘Look, you’re upset. I’m sorry. I had no idea you two were close. But her and Paul’s relationship is dead in the water. She must have told you that. She’ll probably be relieved to get shot of him. I just don’t want it to be … messy … you know? It would be so much better if he breaks the news to her in his own way. Nell?’

  But Nell was already swimming away from her, and Anna could tell by the furiousness of her crawl, that she had taken the bait.

  Anna began to swim too, but reflectively, doing a gentle breaststroke. Now, if she had got her human psychology right (much boosted by the unexpected best friend scenario) then Nell would be on the phone to Ermintrude as soon as she could be. Then with luck, the said Ermintrude would flip and demand an immediate divorce and then she, Anna, could step in sweetly and pick up the pieces with no machinations suspected. She really did not want to be involved in anything … unpleasant.

  As Nell dried herself after swimming, with her mind full of Anna and Elly and Paul, and in a confusion as to what on earth she should do for the best, she discovered to her intense annoyance that she’d forgotten to bring her hairbrush. She had also just towelled her hair into an unmanageable frizz. Then she remembered with even more disgust that Sibyl had arranged to be late at ARTFULL that morning, so she wouldn’t be able to borrow hers. There was nothing for it but to go all the way back to the cottage before work. What a damn nuisance.

  She had managed to drive up and down her lane without difficulty, after Tom’s efforts with the snow-plough. The main roads were already completely clear, with the snow and slush piled high in dirty lumps on the verges. Nell was afraid it was melting faster than expected, and wouldn’t last until the next weekend after all. So Rob’s children would have to go without their promised sledging. It came to her in passing as she drove that although she’d only met Josh once, she was afraid she didn’t actually like him or Rosie very much. But it was an unnatural and unwomanly thought, best swiftly squashed.