In Focus (2009)

by Jacobs, Anna

  Beth had to ask what a couple of the dishes were, but made sure to take something from each platter.

  Then Ghita helped her son and Jo helped Mikey, after which the boys sat quietly on two towels with their dishes in front of them, eating steadily with their fingers.

  ‘We’ve done this before,’ Jo said. ‘They love it, and when they’ve had enough to eat from the first course, we put them to bed and enjoy the rest of the food in peace.’

  ‘I have some wine or fruit juice.’

  ‘Ghita doesn’t drink alcohol, but I wouldn’t say no to a red wine.’

  The little boys went happily to bed and could be heard giggling for a short time, then silence reigned.

  Three more savoury dishes were served, fork food this time, slightly more spicy and utterly delicious. Beth again revised her view of what jobs Ghita could do. If this was a sample of the food she could produce, she was very good.

  ‘She’s a brilliant cook, isn’t she, Mum?’ Jo whispered as Ghita went to get the desserts. ‘And she loves cooking.’

  ‘I’m going to put on weight.’

  ‘You need to. Why have you let yourself get so thin? You look run down. Do you have to work so hard? You’re not short of money now, if you can run a luxury flat like this one on your own.’

  Beth was so surprised she couldn’t think of an answer, then shrugged. ‘I was busy and I never felt hungry somehow. When you live alone, eating seems more of a necessity than a pleasure.’

  ‘You’re not alone now. Are you going to see Edward again? If he’s sent flowers, he must be seriously interested.’

  ‘I – um, saw him this afternoon. We went for a walk.’

  ‘You’re blushing. Mum!’ Jo beamed across the table at her. ‘Are you two an item?’

  ‘Maybe. It’s a bit early, but yes, I think we might be.’

  ‘Good. That’s Gran settled and you too. Maybe it’s catching and I’ll find someone. What do you think, Ghita? Do we want husbands?’

  Her friend shuddered visibly. ‘My father has someone in mind, but he and I don’t share the same taste in men. He thinks of money and position in the community, I think kindness. I’m only going to get married if I like and respect the man.’

  ‘What about love?’ Beth asked.

  Ghita looked thoughtful. ‘That too, but love alone isn’t enough for me. I’d want a kind man, who could love Kaleel as well as me, and who’d let me do more with my life than act as his servant.’

  They settled down to an earnest discussion of the qualities that appealed to them in men, and went on to say what they didn’t like. It was as if they were three friends chilling out together, Beth thought in wonderment. She caught her daughter’s eye and Jo winked.

  ‘That was fun,’ Beth said as the evening wound down. ‘I’ve enjoyed your company. Now, let me do the clearing up.’

  Ghita stood up quickly, shaking her head. ‘That’s my job now.’

  Beth didn’t want anyone to wait on her hand and foot. It wasn’t her style. ‘Not all day, every day. We’ll all share the clearing up in the evenings. With a dishwasher it won’t take long. Anything that doesn’t fit into the machine tonight can wait and go in the next load tomorrow.’

  ‘I don’t know how to work a dishwasher,’ Ghita confessed.

  ‘I’ll give you lessons tomorrow.’ Beth yawned suddenly. ‘Come on. I’m tired. Let’s make a start.’

  She felt happy as she lay in bed, optimistic enough to hope that Pete wouldn’t hurt her mother too badly and Edward would continue to be so attentive.

  Could life be so good? Could this state of affairs continue?

  As the concert ended Pete applauded loudly with the rest of the audience. He hadn’t realized quite how wonderful Rosa’s voice was, because it sounded so much richer in this building than it did on a recording. He went to find one of the theatre staff and showed her the ticket Rosa had written on. With a smile, the woman led him behind the stage and showed him into a room full of people holding drinks.

  He wasn’t in the mood for chatting, but knew two or three of the men so had to exchange greetings with them. He prowled on, taking a glass of wine when it was offered to him and sipping it, not really interested in drinking tonight. Strange, that. He usually enjoyed several drinks in the evening, too much according to medical research, but hey, something would kill you so why not make it a sin you enjoyed?

  Only he was too upset to enjoy a drink tonight, it seemed.

  ‘Pete. You came?’

  Rosa was there, smiling at him, looking tired, wearing a simple white dress with a trail of lace down one side. She had a gold chain round her neck and her dark hair curled loosely on her shoulders. Compared to Fran she looked a bit out of date, but he rather liked that quietly feminine look, he decided.

  ‘I enjoyed the concert very much, Rosa. Your voice is beautiful.’

  ‘Thank you. Mario is great to sing with. Our voices match well.’ She looked round. ‘Is your wife not here?’

  ‘Ex-wife. We split up recently. We’re getting a divorce.’

  ‘I’m sorry. That must be hard.’

  And damned if tears didn’t come into his eyes, not because he cared about Fran – he certainly didn’t – but because everything had been upsetting this week.

  Rosa reached out to grasp his hand and he held on to her tightly. ‘Can we get out of here? I’m in no state for socializing, but I’d enjoy a quiet drink with you.’

  ‘I’ll have to speak to a few people on the way out, Pete, but yes, I’m tired too.’

  A tactful way to cover him being tearful and emotional, he thought. Tired. She seemed sorry for him. He didn’t want her sympathy, just some gentle, undemanding company.

  When they got to the now-empty foyer, he asked, ‘Where would you like to go?’

  ‘Why don’t you come back to my house for a nightcap? You don’t seem in the mood for public places.’

  ‘No, I’m not. But I’m not in the mood for my own company, either.’

  She stopped walking to stare at him. ‘We need to get one thing straight. I’m not inviting you round to sleep with me. I don’t hop in and out of bed with people.’

  ‘I’ll behave myself.’

  Outside they picked up a taxi and he leaned back with a sigh. ‘Thank you for your company. It’s comforting. You’re very easy to be with.’

  ‘If we can’t help one another, we’re not much as human beings, are we? Anyway, you were kind to me after I appeared on your show, and the photos people sent in afterwards have been a great joy to me.’

  The taxi ride was longer than he’d expected and they drew up in front of an older semi-detached house, one of a row of old-fashioned dwellings, not a block of flats. ‘I’d not expected you to live in a place like this.’

  ‘It was my parents’ house. I grew up here.’

  ‘I’ve got a flat overlooking the river.’

  ‘I like having a garden.’

  He followed her inside. She switched on lights, revealing old-fashioned furniture, a worn rug, books everywhere, not just in the many bookcases, but on the low table and even stacked on the floor by an armchair. Some of the books looked very battered and there were scratch marks on a table. He remembered suddenly that her ex had trashed the place.

  ‘You read a lot.’

  She smiled. ‘It’s my favourite pastime. I can take books with me wherever I go. They’ve kept me company in countless hotel rooms. I like gardening too when I’m at home.’

  ‘So does my mother.’

  ‘It’s very satisfying to grow plants and vegetables. Would you like a drink of wine or brandy or something?’

  ‘No, thanks. I’m not in the mood for alcohol.’ He laughed bitterly. ‘It must be the first time in years.’

  ‘Something’s upset you. Not the divorce, I think.’

  ‘Yes, something has. And you’re right, it’s not the divorce.’

  ‘If you’d like to talk about it, I promise I’ll keep your secret. But if you don’t want t
o talk, we can listen to music or simply chat.’

  ‘Don’t you watch TV?’

  ‘Not often. Mainly the news. I’m away so much, I can’t keep up with the various series, though I do quite enjoy archaeology programmes.’

  To his surprise, he found the old-fashioned armchair with its frayed armrests far more comfortable than the low, ultra-modern furniture in his flat.

  ‘I usually have hot milk with honey in it. Can I get you one too, Pete?’

  He smiled at the thought. ‘That’s a children’s bedtime drink.’

  ‘It helps me sleep. I sometimes have trouble after a performance.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. You were brilliant tonight, must have given a lot of yourself. I can’t get over the way your voice soared across the theatre.’

  ‘Thank you. I love singing. Now, I won’t be long.’

  She went out and he felt himself relaxing in the quiet room. No accent lights here to show off an expensive art piece, just two frilly table lamps glowing softly pink in the corners.

  He opened his eyes as Rosa came back. ‘This is a very relaxing house.’

  ‘I like it. I moved into a flat once and it never felt like a home to me without a garden. When my parents went into a retirement village, I came back here.’ She put a mug down on the low table between them and took the armchair on the opposite side, sipping her drink.

  He picked up his mug. It was made of thin, translucent china, with flowers painted on it and a gold rim. Steam rose gently and there was a sweet smell. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had anything with honey in it. It had far too many calories for Fran even to allow it into the house. The sweet warmth slipped down very easily. ‘I must have this more often,’ he said, setting the mug down carefully. ‘It’s delicious.’

  The next thing he knew, Rosa was shaking him gently.

  ‘You fell asleep. I hate to disturb you, but it’s getting late.’

  He blinked, disorientated for a moment, then focused on her. ‘Sorry. I’ll call a taxi.’

  ‘You can sleep in the spare bedroom, if you like.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course. My friends often stay over.’

  ‘I’d like that.’ Not to wake up to an empty flat would be wonderful at the moment.

  Smiling, Rosa switched off the sitting room lights and led the way upstairs, showing him to a small bedroom whose single bed was covered by a virginal white cover. She opened the wardrobe. ‘This is an old dressing gown of my brother’s. And his pyjamas should fit you too. There’s only one bathroom. You can’t miss it.’

  He took her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘Thank you. I’m really grateful to you.’

  ‘I’ve done very little.’

  ‘You’ve given me some peace in a very troubled time and that’s worth a lot to me. I’ll tell you about the other thing tomorrow, if I may.’

  ‘Of course. Sleep well.’

  She was gone and he wished she’d stayed. Which was silly. They weren’t lovers, just friends. He wondered briefly what sort of a lover she’d make. Not as skilled as Fran, he was sure, but undoubtedly more loving.

  He snuggled down in the narrow bed, murmuring in pleasure at its soft feel. He didn’t know why it helped not to be on his own tonight, but it did.

  On the Sunday Edward took Beth for a drive in the country, stopping for lunch at a pub. They talked easily and the time flew.

  He grinned at her as he dropped her off at her flat. ‘See. Taking it nice and easy. But still courting you.’

  ‘Oh, Edward—’ She broke off, not knowing what to say.

  He kissed her cheek. ‘No need for words. We enjoyed one another’s company, and we’re going to continue doing that.’

  She was sorry he hadn’t tried to persuade her to go back to his flat. She was sorry he’d come into her life at such a complicated time.

  No, she wasn’t. She was glad she’d met him, whatever the circumstances.

  Fifteen

  Beth got up on Monday feeling hopeful that things had taken a turn for the better, even though so much was still to be resolved. She didn’t feel like breakfast and didn’t want to disturb the others, so left a note for Ghita and was at work by just after five. Someone had to be there to make sure the early shifts went off smoothly and it was easier to sort things out from the office than from home.

  When a woman rang in sick she called in a standby cleaner. It was a house rule that you rang in if you couldn’t make it, one of the few things for which she had dismissed people who offended more than once. When a second person rang in, none of the other standbys answered their phones. In the end she raced along to the office block in question and filled in herself. She worked quickly and efficiently, noting that parts of the floor had been skimped last time.

  As they all trooped outside at eight o’clock, she caught up with the group supervisor. ‘Who’s been doing the sixth floor, Rachel?’

  ‘That student, what’s he called? Tom.’

  ‘He’s been skimping. Do you want to have a word with him or shall I?’

  Rachel flushed. ‘I can’t seem to get through to him about our standards. I’ve already spoken to him twice, and he’s apologetic, promises to do better next time, and he does for a while. Then things start to slip again.’

  ‘I’ll come in tomorrow and speak to him myself.’ She patted Rachel’s shoulder, knowing that even though her companion had three small children at home, she was an extremely conscientious and reliable worker. ‘If warnings don’t work in future, let me know. It doesn’t mean you’re failing. I’m the next step up the chain of command, so it’s normal and right for you to turn to me.’

  She smiled. ‘The rest of the place looks good and those changes you made seem to be working well.’

  Rachel’s expression brightened. ‘Thanks. It is more efficient, I think.’

  ‘I’ve been wondering if you’d like to go on a people management course?’

  ‘I’d love to, but I can’t afford to lose my pay.’

  ‘You won’t lose anything. It’s paid training. I’ll get Sandy to ring you and discuss arrangements.’

  Rachel flushed in pleasure. ‘Thank you. I’d love to do that. I’ve not been on a course since I left school.’

  Beth walked to her car, knowing she’d have to sack Tom. He’d had two warnings about sloppy work and if that hadn’t done it, experience told her nothing would. She remembered him clearly. Good-looking, full of himself, but she’d been doubtful about him from the start, only he’d applied at a time when they’d taken on a new contract and were short of cleaners. He’d said he was a student, but she’d seen him around during the day a few times so he couldn’t be studying full-time.

  She left a message on his phone as soon as she got back to the office then sat back, feeling tired.

  Sandy came in, looked at her and said tartly, ‘Don’t tell me. No one else was available, so you had to do the work yourself.’

  Beth shrugged. ‘You know how it is.’

  ‘You look exhausted. Did you eat any breakfast before you started?’

  She had to think for a moment. ‘I forgot. Besides, I had a huge meal yesterday. Edward took me for a drive in the country and we stopped at a pub.’

  ‘You mean you had a huge lunch. What did you have for tea?’

  ‘What is this, the Inquisition? I had some supper. Ghita made it.’

  ‘I’m your friend as well as your employee, so I’ll continue to question you when you look like that. I care about you so I’m going out to buy you a sandwich and I’m standing over you till I’ve seen you eat it.’

  ‘I’ll go and buy myself one. I could do with some fresh air.’

  But before she even got to the door, a new client phoned and she had to change her plans.

  ‘You need another member of staff,’ Sandy said. ‘A personal assistant. You can afford it.’

  ‘Perhaps. I’ll think about it.’

  ‘I’ll draw up some job specs. Now, promise you’l
l get something to eat on the way there.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’

  She meant to, she really did, but she was thinking about Jo and Ghita and it slipped her mind.

  Edward woke feeling happy after a thoroughly relaxing day out with Beth on the Sunday. It wasn’t until he’d finished breakfast that he began to wonder what to do with himself. How wonderful to have the whole day stretching before him! Normally he’d have been at the office by nine, discussing the coming week’s show with Pete, sewing up any loose ends, answering a dozen phone calls.

  It was no use calling Beth. She’d be working hard.

  When the phone rang he checked the caller ID before he picked it up. He didn’t intend to be dragged back to the office. ‘Hi, Aunt Sue. How are you?’

  There was silence, then, ‘I’m a bit upset, dear. Pete came to see me on Saturday.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You knew about it?’

  ‘He told me.’

  ‘I didn’t know he’d been kidnapped, Edward, I swear I didn’t. Have you seen Pete? I tried to contact him yesterday, but he’s not answering my calls.’

  Her voice was so shaky, he said at once, ‘Do you still make the best scones in the universe? Good, then I’ll come out to see you mid-morning. We’ll talk about this quietly. I’ll be there in about an hour.’

  Annoyed, he rang Pete at the office.

  His cousin greeted him with, ‘Ready to come back to work?’

  ‘Nope. I want to know what you said to your mother on Saturday. She’s very upset and says you’re not answering her calls.’

  Pete’s voice turned sulky. ‘I was out all day. The last thing I wanted when I got back was to have my mother weeping all over me.’

  ‘Then you shouldn’t have treated her so harshly. You know what she’s been like since your father died. What exactly did you say?’

  ‘I asked her why they didn’t tell me I was adopted, and as usual she said it was Dad’s idea. Then I told her what had really happened, that I have a sister and a birth mother hounding me and—’

  ‘They’re hardly hounding you.’

  ‘It feels like it. That sister of mine has a steely look in her eye. If my birth mother is at all like her, I don’t want to know either of them.’