by Jane Fallon
‘Does he have any kids?’ I’m looking for the downside because, knowing Alice’s taste in men, there must be one.
‘No. Not … Paula, you can’t breathe a word of this, not even to Robbie yet …’ She takes hold of both my hands. I just know what’s coming.
‘I’m pregnant.’
I do what everyone does in these circumstances. I can’t resist a glance down at her belly. Nothing. It’s practically concave.
‘Wow. Alice … that’s … are you pleased?’
‘Of course I am! It was an accident, obviously, but, imagine, I’m going to have a baby! Ivan’s going to need to find somewhere to live sooner than he thought, of course …’
‘What does he think about it?’
‘I haven’t told him yet. I’m not even two months …’
‘You are going to tell him, though?’
‘Of course! I’m just waiting till I’m past the dodgy bit.’
‘And how do you think he’ll take it?’ I can’t help it. I’ve known Alice for too long. I’m looking for the angle, the trap. Although her excitement feels real. And, if she were going to use a baby to try and solidify a relationship, wouldn’t she have done it with one of the ones she thought would keep her in luxury?
‘It’ll be a shock because we’ve only been together such a short time but, honestly, I think he’ll be thrilled. He’s always wanted kids. His ex-wife couldn’t … they went through loads of IVF, everything.’
‘And where is she now?’ What’s the catch? He’s still married to her? She has a contract out on him?
‘Devon. She’s remarried. I’ve met her. She came up for his niece’s wedding with her husband. She seems nice, bit dull. She’s an office manager.’
‘Right.’
‘Aren’t you going to congratulate me?’ she says suddenly, looking a bit teary.
‘Of course! Congratulations! Sorry, it was just a shock …’
‘I’m so happy, Paula, truly.’
I give her a hug. Feel her skin and bone. ‘I’m not nagging, but you have to start eating. No more dieting and picking away at your food, like you think we won’t notice you’re just moving it around your plate.’
‘I don’t!’
I raise an eyebrow at her. ‘I’m not even joking. If you want this baby, then you have to be healthy.’
‘OK. I will. I promise.’
‘Don’t think I won’t be checking up on you. And stop with the vaping. I mean it. God knows what’s in those things.’
She nods like a compliant child and I think that, maybe, this new dynamic between us might work. I boss her around and she lets me. I like it.
‘Do you want me to come to your next appointment with you?’
Her face lights up, making her look ten years younger. ‘Would you? Oh God, Paula, I’d be really grateful. None of my friends live nearby.’
I refrain from saying, ‘What friends?’ I know she’s driven most of them away over the years with her sense of entitlement and the way she uses people. It suddenly strikes me as very sad. Alice. Her whole life. Maybe this really will be the making of her.
‘I like him,’ Robert says in the cab on the way home. ‘He seems like a good bloke.’
‘I really like him. Good for Alice. Maybe this is the one that’s going to work out for her.’
‘Stranger things have happened,’ he says, but I can’t think of many.
40
We’re watching the episode where Melody breaks the news to Hargreaves that she’s finally pregnant. Robert is inordinately pleased with himself. I can tell he thinks his performance – shock, disbelief and then joy – is award-worthy. Saskia plonks her way through the lines with all the subtlety of a carthorse at the ballet, pulling faces that – and I can only hazard a guess here – imply relief and happiness.
This morning I sweated up a storm next to her again. I’m thinking that, after it all kicks off, I should just keep going to the class. Doggedly stick it out so she feels she has to be the one to leave. Maybe mutter, ‘This town ain’t big enough for the both of us’ at her when she’s attempting to be zen. I know she could just switch to the earlier or later one, or go somewhere else entirely, but it would be a small victory. I know how much she loves her weekend routine.
I knew I was in for a treat because she texted me yesterday, saying, ‘Told R about S and J!!! He’s fuming! That’ll put the cat among the pigeons haha!!!’ I resisted about five different caustic stroke sarcastic replies and sent back ‘Haha!!! Amazing!!! Can’t wait to see what kind of mood he’s in this evening haha!!!’ I thought about adding some more exclamation marks or even another ‘haha!’ but I restrained myself in case she realized I was taking the piss.
I didn’t get a chance to ask her about it before class but, as soon as she joined me at the café (post-shower), I was all questions. What exactly did she say to him? Was he devastated? Did he agree not to go straight to Samantha and tell her what he now knew?
Of course, she’d had time to work out her answers.
‘I went to his dressing room,’ she said, all big eyes and fake excitement. ‘Which, as you can imagine, was a bit of a shock for him! It’s not often you’d find me in there!’
No, Saskia. Of course it’s not.
‘Samantha wasn’t in so I knew there was no chance of surprising them … you know …’
She waited for me to acknowledge that, yes, I did know.
‘I told him that, the day before, I’d walked past the window of her dressing room – hers is on the ground floor – and I’d seen her and Jez in a clinch. You should have seen his face! I said I thought he deserved to know, given he was risking his marriage for her.’
I arranged my face into a look of delight. ‘So what did he say?’
Saskia dabs at her mouth with her napkin then places it back on her lap. ‘Well, he swore, I can tell you that much. Quite a lot. Kept going on about what a bastard Jez was, so I said, “But he doesn’t even know about you and Samantha, I assume. I mean, she’s hardly likely to have told him.” ’
‘Genius.’
She smiles. The cat that got the cream. ‘I thought so. Anyway, he was fuming. Picked up his phone as if he was going to call her pretty quick, so I had to start begging.’
She adopts a grovelling pose, hands together in a prayer position, puts on a voice.
‘ “Please, Robert, don’t say anything. They’ll know it was me who told you” – oh, I forgot to say that I’d told him that they saw me. Samantha looked out of the window and our eyes met just for a moment. I said that I’d smiled and waved at her as if nothing was happening but that if anyone reported back to Robbie … Robert … she would know it was me –’
‘And he went for it?’
‘Not at first. I had to really lay it on thick about how I already felt half the cast hated me and I couldn’t bear it if I actually gave one of them a concrete reason to do so …’
You’d think I’d laugh at this point, wouldn’t you? I’m proud of myself that I managed not to. I just took a big sip of my juice. Held it in.
‘… Anyway, to cut a long story short, I said the thing about maybe I should find out if it was true for sure before he started throwing accusations around. Oh, and then just to make sure I said, “You don’t want to get into a fight with Jez, do you? So you need to have all your facts in place before you say anything.” Well, he went pale at that point, you can imagine.’
I laugh in what I think sounds like a delighted but cruel manner. ‘I bet he did.’
‘And then, of course, he agreed that he shouldn’t do anything hasty. I promised to keep my eyes and ears open and report back. I even told him I would try and start up a conversation with Samantha about Jez, without her suspecting anything, just to see what she says about him.’
Her story is starting to unravel a bit. There are holes in it wide enough to drive a truck through. I wonder if this is because she hasn’t practised as much as I thought or just because she thinks I’m such an easy touch tha
t she can get away with telling me any old crap and I’ll believe her.
‘But she knows that you know, doesn’t she? Or, at least, Robert thinks she does. Wouldn’t he worry that, if you start talking to her about Jez, she’ll know what you’re getting at?’
She looks flustered for a split second but then she covers well. ‘Yes, of course, but I was banking on him not thinking rationally. That he’d just see my offer as a life raft and grab for it.’
I reward her with a big smile. I want her to think she’s won. ‘And he did, by the sounds of it. God, well done, you.’
‘It was a stellar performance,’ she says. ‘I really am quite proud of myself.’
‘So, what now?’
‘I’m trying to think. I need your help – you’re so much cleverer than me. Obviously, we want to keep this going, but we don’t want to push it so far that he confronts her.’
I pretend to think. ‘Although we do want him to break it off with her.’
‘Yes, but without her thinking it was anything to do with me seeing them. I mean, I don’t really care what she thinks of me, but I do not want to encounter the wrath of Jez, any more than Robert does.’
‘So …’ I pick up my latte, have a long drink just to keep her waiting. I always order both a coffee and an orange juice with our brunch. No wonder I always need the loo on the way home. ‘… We have two options. Either you tell him you’ve talked to Samantha and the Jez thing was a blip. It’s over before it’s even started. But that might mean he just forgives her and they carry on where they left off. Or … if we want to seed some proper doubts in his mind, we have to find a way to keep it going but not push things so far that he confronts Samantha. Not until we want him to, anyway.’
‘Exactly,’ she says. ‘I’m still clueless as to how.’
‘I think, for now, just tell him you haven’t had a chance to talk to her on her own, string him along for a bit, and then maybe throw him something like you overheard her asking someone where Jez was, or saying she was going to his dressing room to go over lines or something. Just enough to keep his paranoia going. He’ll start getting needy and suspicious and, hopefully, that’ll drive her mad. Especially as we know she isn’t really up to anything. Well, except the obvious.’
‘OK. I’ll do my best. This is quite exciting, haha!’
‘I’m really grateful, you know that.’
‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ she says magnanimously. ‘Anything to help you out. He shouldn’t get away with it. How are you coping?’
I lower my eyes. ‘Oh, you know. Hurt, disappointed. Furious. Mostly furious.’
‘Furious is good.’
‘I can’t wait for this to be over. To be honest, I just want him out of my life – well, as far out as he can be when we have a daughter together. I have absolutely no feelings left for him at all. None.’
‘I’m not surprised. And how was he on Friday night? Did he seem like a man who had just found out his mistress had something else going on on the side?’
‘He did seem in a funny mood, actually. I wondered if it was because you’d said something.’
Oh, please. Having to make myself seem like a gullible idiot is galling, to say the least. I watch as a smug smile takes over her face.
‘Haha! See, he’s rattled! I’ve got to him!’
I smile back at her. Yes, Saskia. Yes, of course I believe that’s the case.
41
Saskia
Hook, line and sinker. Really, I should get some kind of award for my performance. Paula is totally eating out of my hand, lapping up every word like a hungry dog. I’m really quite proud of myself. I just wish I could share my success with someone. It doesn’t quite feel real when it’s only me that knows about it.
I think I’ve done enough. I don’t really need to add any more fuel to the fire. She’s on the verge of kicking him out. He has a bolt-hole, a place to run to, when she does. It’s all about to come together.
I’ve been trying to persuade him he shouldn’t come to the party. I think it’s rubbing salt into the wound for Joshie – not that he’ll realize it, not till later, anyway. But it feels needlessly cruel. Robbie tells me Paula is insisting they come. Of course, I know it’s because she’s hoping to see him and Samantha in action. He’s just confused about why she suddenly wants to crash his social life. I’ve tried to say to her that it’ll be dull as dishwater and that Samantha probably won’t even come, but how can she resist the possibility?
Thank God Paula’s not the type who would confront Samantha herself. Can you imagine! The whole thing blowing up right in front of my face! Robbie finding out what I’d been saying! I’d just have to deny everything. I’m a good enough actress. He’d believe me.
I wasn’t even going to invite Samantha. Or Robbie, for that matter. I’ve tried saying to Joshie that maybe we should keep it to close friends only, make it an intimate do rather than a full-on party, but he isn’t having it. He’s invited practically everyone I’ve ever met. It’s going to be like an episode of This Is Your Life.
Still, we just have to get through it. And once it’s over, then the countdown can really begin.
42
Paula
I haven’t seen Josh since the other night. There hasn’t been an opportunity and, besides, it’s too dangerous. My head is full of images of us together and what I want to do to him. And him to me. And I do want to wait. I do want to be able to look Robert and Saskia in the eye and say, ‘I would never have done what you’ve done.’ And I want it to be true.
We’ve talked every day. Planning our big move. Getting our story straight. Now that we know they have the nest, there’s no panic about Josh having to move out of the house right away. He’s still insisting he’ll sell it and give Saskia half the proceeds, but I keep telling him to wait it out. Not to make any grand gestures in a hurry.
Oh … and the best news of all: it looks like Josh might be lining himself up another job. The production company who make Farmer Giles have another show that’s about to go into production and they need a safe pair of hands. He had an informal chat with the head of production – someone he knows well – about it and he thinks he might have persuaded her that Farmer Giles could be run by any old hack at this point (I’m sure he didn’t put it quite that way, but that was the underlying message, I believe) but that One Night – the six-part thriller that has just been given the green light by Channel 4 – needs careful handling. She seemed keen, he tells me. It would just be a question of finding someone else to step in and run Farmer Giles at short notice.
We haven’t discussed what – if anything – is going to happen between us once it’s all over.
The party is on a Friday night, post-filming. Lucky for me, Robert has the day off and so, I tell him happily, we can travel all the way together, I won’t have to hang around the studio gates like a groupie. Robert is confused as to why I want to go at all. He keeps trying to claim that he’d much rather spend the evening relaxing on the sofa.
‘You always want to go to the parties,’ I say when he brings it up for the third time, thinking but not saying, ‘Or at least you did before I started inviting myself along.’
He sighs. ‘I just don’t feel like it. I see enough of these people at work.’
We’re walking – my suggestion, but he took me up on it happily. The stroll to the pergola via the café is no longer far enough for me, so we’ve gone south, up across Primrose Hill and down through Regent’s Park. It’s a nice day. Sunny, but just the tiniest hint of autumn in the air. It feels like new beginnings.
‘But I don’t. Please can we? I feel as if we hardly ever go out …’
‘Let’s go out to dinner then, just us?’
‘We can do that any night. It’s not as if this happens every week. I really enjoyed the last one.’
To give him credit, he doesn’t say, ‘We were only there five minutes and all you did was throw a drink down Saskia’s top.’ God, that feels like a long time ago. A lifetime.
‘OK,’ he says. ‘But we’ll take the car again. Stay an hour, tops, and then escape.’
‘Sure,’ I say. ‘Whatever you want. Let’s go and buy lunch from Villandry and bring it back and eat it in the park.’
He looks at me as if I’m insane. ‘It might rain.’
‘It won’t. Go on, live dangerously.’
Robert laughs, and I’m glad. We might as well have one last nice day together.
Myra helps me plan what to wear. Her first suggestion: ‘Nothing. Show them how good you look.’
‘Be serious.’
‘I don’t know,’ she says, stacking a pile of plates. Now the schools have gone back, we get a rush every morning, just after drop-off time. We have a local reputation as being very tolerant of babies and pre-school toddlers, so the exhausted young mums often pop in after saying goodbye to their older children at the gates. ‘What have you got?’
‘Well, I can’t describe my whole wardrobe to you. Just what kind of thing?’
‘Something fitted but not tarty. You don’t want to look like a hooker he’s just picked up.’
‘Really? Because that was exactly the look I was going to go for.’
She rolls her eyes at me. ‘You know what I mean. You need to look as if you know you look good but you’re not showing off about it.’
‘You read too many crappy magazines,’ I say, wiping the surface underneath the stack when she lifts it to put it away. ‘Is it going to be warm at the weekend?’
‘What am I? The internet?’
‘I think there’s supposed to be a little heatwave. That’ll affect what I wear.’
We’re saved from ourselves by the arrival of three customers, who all head to different tables. ‘I’ll keep you posted,’ I say as I head towards the one nearest the door.
‘Oh do!’ she says. ‘I’ll be thinking about nothing else.’
‘Haha!’ I say, before I can stop myself. And then I think, that’s how easy it is. One day you’re laughing at someone for an irritating habit and the next you’re doing it yourself.