One Summer Night At the Ritz

by Jenny Oliver

  ‘And what does he say now?’

  ‘He doesn’t. He’s dead, died a couple of years ago.’

  He watched her lick her lips, mull over what she was going to say next. The mention of death usually stopped any further questions.

  ‘So he wouldn’t know what you did with it,’ she said and he frowned, surprised.

  ‘Well that’s…’ He paused for a second. ‘That’s not really the point, is it? It’s keeping his legacy alive. It’s what he’d want.’

  ‘He told you that?’

  ‘He gave me the business, he didn’t have to.’

  She took a sip of wine. She seemed annoyingly relaxed, at ease, while he was getting het up.

  She shrugged. ‘Yeah, maybe.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  She sat up, crossed her legs underneath her and said, ‘Just that. Maybe.’

  ‘Or?’

  She smiled, her whole face lit up and he found himself staring.

  ‘Or maybe not,’ she said. ‘Maybe he hoped you might give it a go, see if you enjoyed it and then do whatever made you happy if it didn’t work.’

  ‘Yes but it is working. We’re a successful business, we just don’t have the capital to pay off an investor.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ she said with a laugh. ‘You don’t have to persuade me. I’m nothing to do with it.’

  ‘Yes but I want you to understand that you’re wrong.’

  She almost spat out her wine. ‘That’s ridiculous,’ she said, patting the wine off her chin. ‘You can’t persuade me to think that you’re right if I don’t think you are. And why do you care? I know nothing about business.’

  ‘Exactly,’ he said, raising a hand to emphasise his point. ‘Hence. You’re wrong.’

  She did another little laugh and a frustrating shrug of her shoulder. ‘If you want.’

  ‘Oh my god, you’re so annoying,’ he said.

  She laughed, properly this time, a real proper laugh, at him. Then she stood up. ‘Shall we go swimming?’ she said and he had to lean forward to check that he’d heard correctly.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The good days with her mum were like the circus coming to town. They were never normal days like other people might have where they went to Tesco or took the dog for a walk. They were always these crazy, fun-packed days. Where she’d wake and find her mum already up and making stacks of cherry pancakes and maple syrup. She’d have borrowed Enid’s canoe and packed it with supplies of popping candy and Dandelion & Burdock. They’d paddle up the river to some little cove and go swimming in just their underwear and her mum would find frogs and toads under stones and hold them in her hands until they jumped away. She’d pull a kite out from nowhere and they’d run to the top of the hill to fly it and then play tennis and hire bikes and eat nothing but fresh raspberries from the bushes all day. Whatever she saw, her mum would do. If there was a pedalo on a lake, they’d pedal. If there were horse-riding lessons, they’d ride. If there was a car showroom with an old Jaguar to test drive, they’d be off on the open road.

  And Jane had to be constantly prepared for these days because, otherwise, if she wasn’t, if they took her by surprise, she might miss a precious second of them. It was like every day she was wound up, ready, waiting.

  Of course a life where someone made sure she had three meals a day, clean clothes and regular dentist appointments would probably have been better - be the more normal life that she had craved so often at the time. But those good days with her mum…

  Jane realised then that everything that had followed - the dementia, the anger, the ageing and responsibility - had made her almost forgot this stuff. Those heady days that were like being handed rubies. Infinitely precious and rare enough to leave her always craving more.

  ‘Swimming?’ Will said. ‘As in, in the lake swimming?’

  ‘Why not?’ Jane asked. ‘It’s hot still, we’ll dry out.’

  ‘You’re mad.’

  She laughed. ‘No I’m not,’ she said, holding tightly onto that gossamer-thin thread of impetuousness that her mother had inspired. Knowing her instinct was to shake her head and say that he was right, to lie back down and stare up at the stars instead. But she was going for it. She was clinging onto the thread her mother had left her because tonight was about everything she never normally did as just Jane. ‘It’s just sometimes it’s more fun than you can imagine – doing something unexpected.’

  Will scratched his neck and looked dubiously out at the lake, then back at Jane who was slipping her sandals on so she could walk over the pebbly path. ‘You’re seriously going to swim in the lake?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Oh for god’s sake,’ he said with a resigned sigh. ‘I should have gone to dinner with Heidi.’ Then he stood up, poured himself another slug of wine which he downed in one and said, ‘Fine. OK. Come on then. You win.’

  And Jane felt her mouth stretch wide into a smile as she walked over to the edge of the lake, in view of all the restaurant diners, and took off sandals, her jeans, her white top and waded out into the freezing water of the lake till she was swimming.

  ‘Oh Jesus Christ,’ she heard Will say. ‘We’re going to get arrested.’

  She turned over onto her back and watched him as he awkwardly undressed. ‘We’re not going to get arrested,’ she said, ‘The worst that will happen is that they shout at us.’

  All the restaurant diners were watching and pointing. One of the waiters had come to the door and she saw Will give him a resigned shrug before he too waded into the icy water in his black boxers and then dived beneath the surface.

  He came up just next to her with a splash, his hair wet to his head, his teeth almost chattering. ‘Shit it’s cold,’ he said.

  ‘You’ll warm up,’ she replied and, flipping over, swam right out to the centre and then rolled onto her back to look up at the stars.

  With the sun gone, the people on the bank were shadows pointing to where they were swimming. Will front-crawled over to join her and dunked her under the surface as soon as he got there. She came up spluttering.

  ‘That’s not part of the fun,’ she said, coughing up water.

  ‘It is for me,’ he laughed. ‘This is amazing. I feel like I’m about ten years old.’

  ‘See, it’s nice.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He nodded in agreement.

  It occurred to her how close they were. How close and how semi-naked. While in the middle of a public lake, the darkness of the sky and the black of the liquid made it feel like it was just them, almost nose to nose.

  Will seemed to sense it too. He’d gone quiet. She brushed her hair away from her face and tried to think of a distraction. But Will got there first, his mouth spreading into a smile as he said, ‘Come on, I’ll race you to the other side.’

  And the weird close moment was gone.

  They messed around for maybe ten minutes before the waiter came out and shouted, ‘Will, the warden’s on his way.’ Which had them at the edge and out within seconds, bundling up their clothes and making a dash for the bushes to get changed.

  Jane shivered in the darkness as she tried to dry herself with her jeans. ‘I’m freezing.’

  ‘Yeah me too,’ said Will. ‘Do you want my jacket?’

  She caught his eye as she looked up and shook her head, ‘No you’re all right, thanks.’

  ‘Honestly, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a gesture to keep you warm. And if you don’t use it I can’t use it because then I’ll feel bad and unchivalrous for being warm when you’re not, so you may as well take it because otherwise it’ll just go on the floor.’

  Jane had to laugh. ‘OK, thank you, I’ll take it.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, handing her the jacket with a satisfied look on his face. ‘See, you’re learning.’

  They walked through the park in the direction of The Ritz, their clothes sticking to their backs and their bodies drying in the tepid evening warmth. Jane didn’t want it to end but she didn’t want to a
sk him to stay out any longer and it was starting to get late. She’d usually be brushing her teeth ready for bed at this time. Neither of them spoke as they walked.

  She tried to think of different ways she could casually ask him if he wanted to go for a coffee or another drink, or actually for some food. She hadn’t eaten dinner. There had been many nights in her life when she’d gone to bed with no dinner, when her mum hadn’t bought any food or just wasn’t in any mood to cook, but none when she’d forgotten to eat purely out of fun.

  ‘I’m really hungry,’ she said, almost without thinking, with none of the planning that she’d been putting in re asking him for another drink.

  ‘Yeah, me too.’

  They were walking through Green Park.

  ‘We could go somewhere on Piccadilly?’ he said. ‘The Wolseley will still be open. Or…’ He paused.

  ‘Or what?’ she asked.

  ‘We could have room service at The Ritz. You’re staying there, right?’

  She turned and looked at him to see if this was all some great ploy to get her into bed, but his face was impassive. And Jane had absolutely no idea what constituted flirting or hints at attraction any longer. She knew they’d been getting on, but she also knew she was as far from Will’s type as she could possibly be and the way he said it seemed more just like it’d be a kinda fun thing to do, like swimming in the lake.

  ‘Well at least we could get dry that way,’ she said.

  ‘Exactly,’ he agreed, and then he slung his arm over her shoulder as if they were in cahoots over a plan.

  And as they walked, she realised how dangerously addictive such closeness could be.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jane could feel her damp sandals squelching as she walked through the lobby of The Ritz. She watched the doorman and the concierge staff give her wet hair and now see-through white top a subtle once-over. Trevor on the door had tipped his hat at her and she felt like she’d seen a twitch on his lips at the sight of Will following her inside. When they passed the door of The Rivoli Bar, the barman who had served them all night was just crossing the corridor to get something from Reception. He grinned when he saw them and Jane could almost see a silent high-five pass between him and Will. She looked at the floor, she looked up at the chandelier and the fancy pelmet on the curtains, anywhere but a mirror to see her burning red cheeks or the eyes of one of the all-seeing staff.

  In the lift they stood side by side, their reflections staring back at them. Both wet, both almost smiling, both thinking their separate but possibly the same thoughts.

  As the doors pinged open, she suddenly felt completely aware of her every movement – the length of her strides, the swing of her hands, the depth of her breathing, the closeness of his arm against hers as they walked.

  ‘OK, so this is my room,’ she said, fumbling with her key.

  ‘A suite, very impressive,’ he said as she pushed open the door. ‘Blimey, I haven’t been in one of these for a while,’ he added as he walked in. ‘It’s exactly the same, nothing’s changed. Wow.’ He picked up one of the blue and white china urns on the mantlepiece and turned it over to look at the base. ‘It’s unbelievable. I don’t know how they get away with it. Like the rules of the world don’t count here.’ He swept an arm around the sitting room of the suite. ‘Would you decorate your house like this?’

  She laughed. ‘No.’

  ‘There you go. If I did my hotels like this, I’d be laughed out of the industry, but The Ritz. They can get away with it. You’re buying into this. This…’ He looked around with a frown.

  ‘Dream?’ she added.

  ‘Fantasy. You’re basically being given what you think they have in Buckingham Palace. You’re royalty for the bargain price of— How much did you pay?’ he asked, looking back over his shoulder at her as he picked up the bottle of champagne in the silver bucket and inspected the label.

  ‘I’m not telling you,’ she said, starting to dry her hair with one of the towels from the bathroom. ‘And can you stop picking apart my hotel room. It might be work for you, but for me this is a dream.’

  Will put the champagne back in the bucket. ‘Sorry,’ he said, seeming to catch himself. ‘Sorry, I didn’t think. So what does the queen want to eat?’ he asked, handing her the room service menu and pinching her towel.

  ‘I’d rather be Kate Middleton actually.’

  ‘Really? God, who does that make me? Harry?’ he laughed.

  ‘You can be the butler,’ she said, giving him a quick glance from behind the menu.

  ‘At your service,’ he said with a raise of his brow before rubbing his hair dry.

  She watched him for a second with the pretence of looking at what to order. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and was drying off his body. She wondered if he was doing it on purpose so she would look. Then she made herself remember that he was wet and needed to dry off. He looked like he went to the gym a lot but didn’t spend much time out in the sun. She wondered what her body looked like in comparison. Flabbier. Ruddier from so much time at the allotment and trying to fix all the problems with the boat. She didn’t want to dry off in front of him. Didn’t want him to see her body the way she could see his because she felt she would be judged and found wanting.

  ‘I’ll have the grilled chicken sandwich,’ she said, handing him the menu. ‘Do you want to have a shower?’ she asked.

  He paused, then slung the towel round his neck and said, ‘Together?’

  ‘No.’oShe rolled her eyes.

  He laughed. ‘OK, well you go first, I’ll order the food.’

  Even though the door was shut, Jane undressed like she was in a school changing room. Holding the towel tight round her and pulling off her damp clothes and underwear, then almost jumping into the shower cubicle. She knew he’d already seen her half-naked swimming in the lake, but suddenly here, back to the stark reality of the hotel where they had first met, she felt hugely self-conscious. So much so that, after the shower, she stood taking deep breaths at the door, psyching herself up to cross the room in her towel to go and find some dry clothes.

  When she walked out of the room, he was phoning through the room service order. His head didn’t move but she could feel his eyes follow her across the carpet. She didn’t look at him, just headed for her suitcase which was an open mess of stuff on the sofa and, keeping one hand firmly on the knot in her towel, rummaged through for something vaguely acceptable to wear while trying to surreptitiously pack her tatty belongings away at the same time.

  ‘I’ve seen it all before, you know? At the lake,’ he said with a nod towards her clutched towel as he put down the phone.

  ‘Doesn’t mean you’re going to see it again,’ she said with a raise of her brow and he laughed.

  ‘That’s a shame.’

  Jane swallowed and had to look away from his pleased-with-himself grin. Focusing on her clothes, she found that the only things she had left to wear were her denim shorts and an old white hoody that she wore instead of a dressing gown at home. Never had she wished that she’d listened to Emily more and packed a whole host of possible outfit choices.

  Will went to have a shower, and proved himself to have a great deal fewer inhibitions – he left the door open for the whole thing and then just strolled out the bathroom dressed only in a white Ritz robe and threw himself lazily down on the sofa. ‘This is the life, isn’t it?’

  Jane was sitting cross-legged, a touch awkwardly, on one of the straight-backed chairs and jumped to attention as soon as the waiter knocked on the door with their dinner.

  ‘Hi yes, great, er, just over there,’ Jane said, pointing to the coffee table, ‘Thank you.’

  She saw the waiter glance towards Will, who was really playing up his whole relaxed dressing gown look and loving how flustered it was clearly making her. Her fingers fumbled in a purse for a tip. The waiter did a sort of bow and Will raised his hand in a cheery goodbye, his bare feet up on the pouffe.

  When she smelt the food, however, all Jane�
��s inhibitions were gone. She was not someone who did well without food and, lifting the silver cloche from her sandwich, she was already taking a bite as Will sauntered over.

  ‘What did you have?’ she asked mid-chew, tucking her bare legs underneath her so he would see less of them.

  ‘The burger,’ he said, lifting the lid and sighing happily at the site of the huge steak burger, its brioche bun glistening under the lights.

  He sat down next to her on the sofa, legs open, the gown just covering him, clearly uncaring how much she saw of him. She shifted slightly, having expected him to sit opposite.

  ‘That’s a damn good burger,’ he said as he took a bite, then turned and looked at her. ‘You know, I can barely remember why we’re together,’ he said.

  ‘You said you wanted to buy me off,’ she replied, licking mayonnaise off her lips as she put her chicken club down and picked up a chip.

  ‘Oh yeah.’ He nodded. ‘Not my finest hour.’

  ‘We should probably talk about the diaries – what you want to do. Do you want to meet Martha?’

  He nodded as he chewed, ‘Yeah, I could meet her. I suppose what I don’t quite understand is why it’s you meeting me, not her or another relative.’

  ‘There are no other relatives. I don’t think.’ Annie glanced at the tray and realised that he’d ordered her a Coke as well. ‘Is this for me?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Thanks.’

  He shrugged as if it was nothing.

  But it felt strangely intimate to Jane – that he’d picked her a soft drink – like they were teenagers at a sleepover.

  She took a sharp, sugary sip that tasted of pure nostalgia. Of feet dangling in the river and Enid’s music playing. ‘I’m here because Martha didn’t want to bring it all up, I think, and I did. She said the past was always better left buried. I felt like I owed it to Enid to find everything out and then put it to bed. You know, she’d kept that government letter right with her at the cafe she worked at till she died. And the diaries – she’d buried them at the allotment.’