‘He fell out with the tree-lovers because he chopped down a bay tree that was going to undermine his swimming pool, and then got back in with them again by donating two dozen saplings to their Help a Bee, Plant a Tree campaign. I thought bees were more interested in flowers, but what do I know?’
‘You seem to know an awful lot!’ I said, remembering David had claimed it was Jinni who had set the tree people on him. Perhaps he had retaliated by slapping a preservation order back on her …
Malcolm added more sugar to his coffee. ‘It’s my job to be informed. Just as well I am for all the use some of my reporters are – I send them out to get me stories and I learn more from Grace than any of them. And she doesn’t leave reception all day!’ He stirred. ‘Where’s he taking you?’
‘I don’t know.’
As I said it, I suddenly wished I wasn’t going. I had no idea what sort of evening it would be, or what to wear. Maybe I should take a leaf out of Tilly’s book and go down with something catching.
‘He’s got a few bob. Another of your champagne socialists, no doubt. Have you met Lucia yet?’
‘No.’
‘Hangs out with Ingrid. Will pin you up against the wall and tell you earnestly about how terrible it is people are moving in and making it all twee and pricing the locals out of the housing market. Remind you about the deprivation on the old council estate and the problems faced by the farming community. First one carrying the banner when Ingrid leads the march.’
Malcolm paused to crunch on the small almond biscuit balanced on his saucer.
‘And where does she hail from? Back end of Islington, where she made a fortune buying up ex-council properties and making them chi-chi. Now she brings her chums down every weekend and they’re all looking about at the dear little cottages with all that potential … but that’s all right because they are HER friends and all the improvements will be reclaimed-that and sustainable-this and have a solar panel on top of the second bathroom. PAH.’
Malcolm pushed his chair back and rose to his feet.
‘It’s been delightful to see you, my dear.’ He nodded across to the waitress, who was polishing glasses behind the small bar counter and had clearly been enjoying the diatribe. ‘On my tab, Jenny?’
As I got up too, he leant over and took one of my hands in both of his and gave it a squeeze. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said.
He lifted an arm to wave as he disappeared through the door, delivering his last words over his shoulder, with an endearing grin. ‘I’ll hold you to that toad.’
They’d just that minute had a cancellation, so Christophe was free to do my hair, I was told in Cut Above the Rest. ‘I’ve got time to do a colour, if you want one,’ he said, wincing at my re-growth. ‘Warm it up a bit?’
I looked at my watch. It would be one less thing to worry about. I could concentrate my full fretting on my choice of clothes. Paul was unlikely to phone for a second time today and if he did discover I wasn’t at the end of the landline I’d tell him I was knocking off early and working tomorrow morning. Which I would do, before Caroline arrived.
I nodded.
As Christophe applied the russet-gold he’d chosen for me – which he assured me would bring out the hazel-green of my eyes – and extolled the benefits of a few blonde highlights to set off my shortened fringe, I wondered if I was making a mistake.
David had sent a text as I’d left Rosie’s, telling me he would pick me up at 6.30 p.m. It would still be light and Jinni might easily look out of her window. She’d be furious with me for going.
I’d mentioned it to Tilly as a vague possibility and she’d wrinkled her nose. ‘Why are you even thinking of it?’ she’d asked.
Because, I might have said, I haven’t been out for an evening with a man for a long time (not since the unfortunate Quentin). And I want to do something unpredictable, slightly dangerous, exciting …
I imagined my daughter’s face if I tried to express that. I thought of Jinni’s scorn. If it was such an appealing prospect, why did I feel so anxious?
I could suggest to David I met him outside the pub – or the corner shop? Did one do that? Though, suppose Jinni saw me get in the car there? Then it really would look as if I were sneaking around …
By the time Christophe had washed off my colour and begun snipping, I was in a lather of indecision and felt like a teenager.
Which was what decided me. If it had been one of my own teenagers my advice would have been firm. Be completely honest!
As Christophe was wielding the dryer, I was resolved. I would pop over to Jinni’s as soon as I got back and explain I intended to give David a full interrogation and wouldn’t mention that the more I thought about him, the more I was focusing on his crinkly eyes and the peculiar jolt I’d got when he touched me. Especially as it had probably only been a rush of blood to the head. There’d been a full moon a day later and Jules at work said that always made her slightly peculiar.
‘That’s better, isn’t it?’ Christophe gave my hair a last spray and produced a mirror with a flourish.
It was indeed a vast improvement. While I had been quietly stressing he had given my messy locks a sleek new shape. The fresh colour had left my hair a rich conkerish brown with a reddish tinge to it and the subtle blonde highlights did work as well as he’d said they would.
Now I just had to get the slap on and find something to wear.
It was too late to do the shopping, but I stopped at the florist on the way home and bought an armful of spring flowers for the house and some tulips for Jinni. I’d say they were to cheer her up after the paint incident. Not a peace offering.
I lay the wrapped packages on the doorstep of my house as I fumbled for my key, but before I could fish it from my handbag, the door swung open.
‘Where have you been?’ Tilly looked me up and down crossly. ‘Auntie Caroline’s here!’
Chapter 17
‘Sorry, darling! Didn’t you get my message?’ Caroline, beautifully tanned and blonder than ever, looked as if she’d flown in from somewhere exotic, rather than come in a cab from the station.
I shook my head, looking at my phone, which was showing two missed calls. ‘I didn’t hear it. I’ve been in the hairdresser’s.’
‘Yes, you look marvellous.’ Caroline stood back and gave me the full once-over. ‘Love that colour.’ She hugged me again.
‘My evening do was going to be painfully dull so I thought I’d get down here early and have a really relaxed weekend and a proper catch-up. You don’t mind, do you? You weren’t going out? I did get hold of Tilly and she thought it would be fine.’ She beamed at her niece.
‘Of course, it’s lovely. I’m not doing anything.’
‘Did you tell that creep where to go?’ Tilly asked. ‘I thought if you were out, then I could take Auntie C to The Fox.’
‘What creep?’ Caroline’s head whipped round. ‘Tell me all.’
‘Let’s have a drink.’ I led Caroline into the kitchen and put the flowers in the sink, shoving the door to with the back of my foot as I went. ‘Frascati?’
Caroline settled herself on a stool as I poured two glasses.
‘Fabulous house, darling,’ she said, raising her goblet towards me. ‘SO much potential. And gorgeous to see you. Now – who is this man?’
By the time I’d finished the tale, Caroline was on her second glass of wine and had it all sorted. No amount of protesting would shift her and she’d clearly taken her opportunity to get Tilly on side because I returned from the loo to find my daughter was also adamant I was going on what was now being referred to as my ‘date’ with ‘that creep’.
‘Keep an open mind. Then you and I will go to this bar of yours and discuss your glittering future,’ Caroline told Tilly, ‘after I’ve given David a proper appraisal.’
‘He’ll be here in half an hour,’ I said, looking at the clock in panic. ‘And I’m not ready, I’ve not told Jinni and I’m going to be embarrassed with you two staring out of the window.’
‘Nonsense.’ Caroline pulled out a gold compact and applied a little more lip gloss. ‘You get changed and Tilly and I will take the flowers over to Jinni when you’ve left and explain the situation. She’ll be fine when we tell her you are only after the truth.’ She grinned at me and then took a delicate sip of her drink. ‘We’ll let him in.’
I looked at her in despair. ‘I was going to wait outside.’
Caroline shook her head. ‘I don’t think so – looks far too keen. And it’s starting to rain.’
Even if it wasn’t, she was clearly determined to get a look at my dinner companion, and with another despairing glance at Tilly, who smirked, I went upstairs, threw myself in the shower, to deal with the cold sweat I’d come out in, going through various contortions to avoid getting my hair wet while I mentally went through the contents of my wardrobe.
There were work suits for meetings and jeans and sweatshirts and tracksuit bottoms and half a dozen summer dresses designed for a hot day in July. All I could think of that was vaguely suitable for a Friday night dinner with someone I didn’t know, on a drizzly night in April, was a bottle-green, long-sleeved dress, which was quite fitted and looked good on a slim day, and a lacy red dress that could only be worn on a slim day or the zip wouldn’t do up. I had a black cocktail dress that was too formal, a black wool dress that might be too hot if the gallery was warm and a silvery dress that was too flimsy if the restaurant happened to be cold. And was a bit dressy.
Better to be underdressed than over, I reminded myself, wondering if black jeans and a silk shirt was the way forward.
Caroline appeared in the doorway and surveyed the hangers. ‘The green,’ she said decisively. ‘Fabulous with that hair.’ She rooted in the bottom of the cupboard. ‘With these boots. I didn’t know you had these, darling – very classy.’
‘Got them in the sale.’
‘Get your face on.’
I grabbed a tube of tinted moisturiser while she ferreted in my closets to familiarise herself with any other bargains.
We both stopped when the doorbell rang.
‘I’ll go.’ She was already through the door. ‘Don’t rush.’
‘Do me up first.’
I breathed in hard but the zip slid easily into place. At least the dress wouldn’t split when I sat down. I struggled into my boots as I heard Caroline running lightly down the stairs.
Moments later, as I feverishly applied lipstick, I heard her voice, then Tilly’s, then David’s deeper one. I heard Caroline say I wouldn’t be long and would he like a drink and then I couldn’t make out the rest.
My heart was thumping. I thought of Malcolm squeezing my hands and telling me not to worry and found myself half wishing I was going for fish and chips with him instead! I’d feel a prune if this ‘date’ was a disaster.
But Tilly was smiling when I came downstairs and Caroline gave me a wink.
David was wearing the same aftershave he’d had on before and a rather nice shirt. He kissed me on both cheeks and stood back. ‘You look lovely,’ he said.
I suddenly felt about 14, standing there with all three of them looking at me, my daughter now openly grinning and Caroline giving me a surreptitious thumbs-up behind David’s back.
‘Shall we go?’ I said awkwardly. David took a last mouthful from his glass and nodded. He turned to Caroline and Tilly. ‘Seriously, come along too. Marta will be thrilled to see you. More the merrier and all that.’
I felt my heart sink. Caroline raised her eyebrows at me and I saw she was holding a piece of paper on which I could see a neatly drawn map. ‘Ten minutes’ walk at most,’ David added.
‘Lovely!’ I cried brightly, hissing at Tilly as I passed her. ‘Flowers for Jinni!’
‘Jinni!’ he said disparagingly, as he opened the car door for me. ‘She’s got a very vivid imagination.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, seizing my chance. ‘The night you dropped me home someone threw red paint all over her outhouse.’
David frowned. ‘I hope you’re not suggesting the two events are linked?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Good, because her neighbour, my friend Mark, says she’s been making more of her hysterical allegations.’
‘It’s happened to me too.’ I told him about the graffiti.
‘Oh Christ, Tess,’ he leant over the gear stick and touched my shoulder. ‘That’s appalling.’
‘She thinks it was to get at her,’ I said, watching him. ‘And I suppose you and Ingrid are the only ones she can think of who don’t like her.’
David looked sceptical. ‘I imagine plenty of people find her an acquired taste,’ he said acidly. ‘And, for the record, I did like her when I first met her. Before I realised she was totally unbalanced.’
He started the engine as I looked nervously across the road.
‘I think I got the inspection committee on side anyway,’ he said, in a lighter voice, as we pulled away.
I laughed awkwardly. ‘Caroline arrived early.’
‘So she said. You could have cancelled. I wouldn’t have minded.’
I glanced sideways at him. After being given the third degree by my ex-sister-in-law, he’d have probably been lightheaded with relief.
‘Tilly was telling me she’s an actress.’
‘Really?’ I couldn’t keep the surprise from my voice. I’d only stayed upstairs long enough to smudge my mascara a couple of times and put some perfume on. I’d thought Tilly was all doom and gloom about her acting career. Still, ‘what do you do?’ is everyone’s opening gambit and Tilly probably thought serving hamburgers on the Edgware Road wasn’t quite the career profile David was used to.
‘I know how tough it is,’ he went on. ‘I’ve got a friend in the business. I’m going to put her in touch with him. He might have something.’
‘Oh. Gosh. Thank you. That’s very kind of you.’
‘Not at all.’
The gallery was at the end of a narrow road off the High Street. It was a large industrial-looking building that had been a body-work repair centre till the owner went to prison for VAT fraud, David told me as he parked nearby. Inside, clumps of expensively clad women stood about holding champagne glasses, heels tapping on the scrubbed wooden floor.
David did a lot of kissing, introducing me to an array of attractive females in their thirties and forties who had enviable handbags and designer-stubbled blokes in tow.
‘Tess is an interior designer,’ he told Marta, the striking-looking gallery owner, who wore a lot of statement jewellery and a red bow in her hair.
‘How marvellous,’ she said. ‘Leonie’s in total despair with her new place. ‘I’ll find you on Instagram’.
‘Well, I’m not quite–’ I began as David put an arm around my waist and propelled me towards the next group, where he hugged a chiselled young man in crushed velvet.
‘Kit this is Tess.’ The young man kissed my hand. ‘He and Nathaniel are newcomers too – they’ve bought a converted chapel down by the old cinema?’
‘Bitten off rather more than we can chew–’ Kit said, rolling his eyes as we were joined by an older, larger man in a jacket and tie, who shook his head affectionately.
‘It’s all coming along beautifully,’ he said. ‘Kit is a drama queen. You’d love it – you must come and see. You might be able to give us a few ideas …’
‘Well I–’ I began again as David moved me on to meet Fiona and Tara and Sebastian and Tarquin and a chap called Steve who had made a fortune in the music business and was opening a recording studio a couple of miles up the road and used to hang out with Led Zeppelin.
‘You’ll have to get some cards done,’ said David, who had taken my hand to lead me over to the next group.
‘I will,’ I said emboldened by my second glass of champagne and beginning to quite enjoy the vision of myself as a designer again. Not to mention David’s attention. I saw the way the women greeted him and looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and envy. His fi
ngers felt warm and smooth curled in mine. I suddenly wondered what it would feel like to have his whole body around me …
‘There you are!’ A cross-looking woman with very dark, shiny haircut in a sharp geometrical style that came down in long points on one side and was cropped on the other, came towards us in a short black dress and high heels. I looked in awe at her long tanned legs and sinewy arms – she must spend hours in the gym. ‘Jake’s looking for you,’ she said to David, her eyes only flicking to me for a nano-second. ‘He’s in a foul mood because the council have turned down the revised plans as well.’
David let go of my hand and swore quietly. ‘Where is he? Tess, I’m sorry, I won’t be a minute–’
‘No problem.’
The woman followed him.
I began to move along the white walls, looking at the paintings – mostly colourful abstracts – and the occasional object on the floor or a plinth.
Across the room Pete the photographer was snapping what looked like a lawnmower engine surrounded by barbed wire. I looked about for Gabriel, but was surprised to see Malcolm with a napkin in his hand, peering at the fire extinguisher.
‘Is this real or an exhibit?’ he asked as I approached him. ‘I only came for the canapés,’ he continued. ‘And they’re very disappointing.’
He nodded across the room to where a waitress was proffering tiny green mounds of something from a slate platter. ‘I like mini Yorkshire puddings with beef and horseradish,’ he said. ‘Or sausages.’
He shook his head. ‘Aubergine mousse drizzled with beetroot oil – pah! As soon as you see “drizzled” on a menu, you know it’s going to be a silly sliver of something unpronounceable with a side order of shaved Appalachian goat’s foot.’
I laughed.
‘Look!’ He nudged me in the direction of a man with a ponytail, who was gazing at a huge canvas beneath the skylight. ‘What’s he expecting to see? All that stepping back and sighing. It’s a red square on a blue background! No amount of stroking his chin is going to change that!’
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