Not Quite Nice

by Celia Imrie

  ‘Hey, what’s the hurry?’ Carol put out her arm in a jokey way and said ‘Be a gent, Brian, and lead me to my carriage.’

  Theresa slipped the pen into her bag. She could return it to Brian this evening when he returned with the jewellery.

  Then, taking the long way round to avoid direct sightline with Sian, she took the champagne bucket and edged round the tables to join David and William, who whooped.

  Sian saw her arrive at the next table, and made a point of getting up and leaving. Ted shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere, my love,’ he said to his wife.

  ‘Sally!’ barked Sian.

  Sheepishly, Sally rose. She was torn, but chose to go with Sian. As she stepped out into the street she too noticed Jessica and her camera.

  ‘Why do you need photos of us all?’ she asked Sian.

  ‘What on earth are you talking about?’ snapped Sian as she strutted away.

  Ted shrugged, then slipped from his table to join Theresa and the men.

  ‘I wonder why she’s staying over there, taking pictures of us all, ’ said Theresa, looking in Jessica’s direction.

  ‘Oh, that one?’ said Ted. ‘If you ask me, she’s got nits in the network. Always asking bloody questions. She’s driven me up the wall.’

  ‘I thought you two were close.’ Theresa tried to say this as politely as possible.

  ‘Yeah. Not sure what all that was about. All you girls got it into your heads that I was giving her one. But frankly she’s not my type. Too nosy. These two know how I feel about her, don’t you, fellas?’

  ‘She’s sort of come on to all of us,’ said David.

  ‘Even me,’ added William.

  ‘Hush!’ Theresa put on a smile, seeing that Jessica had crossed the road and was heading straight in their direction.

  ‘Hi there, you guys,’ Jessica called. ‘I just thought I’d come over and say goodbye.’

  Ted rose and held out a formal hand. ‘Been nice to know yah,’ he said.

  ‘Well, anyway,’ said Jessica, shuffling from foot to foot. ‘I’m off, so . . .’ She gave a little wave. ‘Ciao. See you.’

  Without turning round, she walked away.

  William shrugged. ‘What was that all about?’

  ‘Like the lady said – she’s off.’

  ‘I’ll have to find you a new partner at the Cookery Club,’ said Theresa. ‘Maybe Brian?’

  The three men made a hmmm noise and took a swig of their drinks.

  ‘He’s sweet, isn’t he?’ said Theresa, not really expecting a reply. ‘Like a great big faithful Labrador.’

  ‘Brian?’ said Ted. ‘That scumbag? He’s no Labrador. Believe me, Theresa, he’s a dingo.’

  Theresa was shocked. ‘I think he’s sweet,’ she said. ‘He’s been very kind to me. Perhaps he’s one of those women’s men.’ Theresa decided to be daring and let them know how she felt. ‘As a matter of fact, I have to confess I’ve got a little crush on him.’

  ‘You’d do better to have a crush on a rattlesnake,’ said Ted.

  ‘Women’s man?’ William snorted into his drink. ‘I’d have more chance with him than you. He’s as camp as a jamboree, isn’t he?’

  Theresa didn’t know how to reply. All gay men seemed to think that every attractive man was gay.

  ‘I saw him in town at that gay bar in the market the other day with some bloke,’ said William. ‘Scruffy leather queen. Scottish I think he was. They looked pretty damn close, to me. In fact, I saw that same bloke that he was with in the Huit-à-8 this morning buying fags. Nasty-looking type.’

  Theresa knew William must be wrong.

  Brian had made it very plain that he was after her.

  She could not possibly have misread the signals.

  Sally left Sian who was walking along the street ignoring her while she took some important business call, to go up the hill and make sure Faith was all right.

  She passed Carol and David’s home and noticed that the door was ajar. That couldn’t be right. David was still in the brasserie and Carol had gone off in the car with Brian. Aware of the spate of burglaries in the town last night, she walked gingerly up the path, gripping her phone, ready to call the police.

  Just as she pushed the door open Carol came bustling out carrying two suitcases.

  ‘Oh my God!’ cried Sally, startled, her knees buckling beneath her. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I could ask you the same, darling,’ said Carol. ‘Are you checking up on me?’

  ‘I thought you were being burgled.’

  ‘I’m leaving home.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m eloping.’ Carol turned and locked the door behind her. ‘It’s really romantic and the most exciting thing I’ve done in years, so I beg you not to waste your time trying to stop me.’

  ‘But David—’

  ‘He’ll get over it,’ snapped Carol. ‘These moments only come along once in your life. It’s kismet, you see. Fate. He adores me, worships me, he said. I’ve never felt so alive.’

  Sally caught Carol’s arm. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve missed something, Carol, but I have no idea who you’re talking about.’

  ‘Brian, of course. We spent the night in the Astra last night. It’s true love. Capital L. Really it is. This man is the Mr Right I’ve been waiting for since I was a teenager.’ Carol shook off Sally’s hand. ‘Must dash. He’s waiting in the car.’ She gave Sally a brisk smile. ‘I’ll pop back and see you all someday. I promise. You see, Sally, what I’ve learned is that these moments come along sometimes and you miss them, trying to be safe and familiar. Well, I’m throwing caution to the winds. It’s exciting.’

  ‘But you can’t just leave without telling anyone. At least give David a chance. We barely know anything about this other man. You can’t desert David for a one night stand. How can you be so cruel . . . or stupid?’

  Carol seemed to grow even taller and her lips tightened.

  ‘And who are you? Jiminy Cricket? I’ve a conscience of my own, thank you very much.’ Seeing that she had hurt her, Carol leaned forward and kissed Sally on the cheek. ‘Thanks for being such a great friend, darling. But I really am going.’

  She picked up the cases and skipped down the alleyway of steep steps.

  Strangely disturbed, Sally turned and went home, where she spent the rest of the afternoon and evening tidying out her drawers.

  Later that afternoon, Theresa stopped at the bank hole in the wall on the way home. She needed cash and also wanted to transfer some money to Imogen to help her out, till the bank or the insurance could make things better.

  She normally understood all the French instructions, which were simple enough: ‘votre code’, ‘code bon’ and suchlike, but this time Theresa got some strange untranslatable message on the screen, which she thought might be telling her to phone her own bank.

  As soon as she got home she dialled them, but got an out-of-hours message. She’d have to deal with it after eight in the morning, though of course, being an hour ahead, that meant nine.

  She tidied up the flat a little, sprayed some polish to make it smell good, and then put on a bit of make-up. When Brian arrived, she wanted to look her best.

  That night Sally lay in her bed, wondering how far Carol had got. Were the odd couple heading for Paris, Vienna or maybe taking the coast road into Italy? Did they have somewhere to go, or were they going to stop at hotels along the way? She wished now that she had asked for a few more details of Carol’s crazy elopement.

  She wondered too how David was feeling. Several times she had considered phoning, but then, if Carol hadn’t left him a note, Sally thought it was not her business to tell him and, if she had, if she now phoned, wouldn’t it make her look like some harpy? Perhaps he’d think she had known about it all along, and how could she prove she had not?

  With a jolt Sally realised that she had been so shaken by Carol’s announcement she had not gone up the hill to check on Faith.

&
nbsp; Still, Alfie was there, so he would surely be helping her clear up and, if anything was wrong, surely by now she would have heard.

  She wondered again whether Carol had left David a farewell note or just taken off without a word.

  A few hundred yards away, in her own bedroom Theresa also lay awake.

  Brian had not phoned to make the dinner appointment she was expecting. Nor had he turned up at her front door bearing a small box containing a ring, and fallen to his knees and proposed.

  She worried that perhaps Carol’s car might have broken down or been involved in an accident.

  Why hadn’t he called?

  Several times she had rung the mobile phone number Brian had given her, and kept getting a French female voice which told her that the number was ‘not attributed’.

  When Brian had recited it to her, the moment was so quick and muddled, Theresa thought she must have written it down wrongly.

  Anyway, Brian had left her guarding his pen, which was a good one, a turquoise Parker. No doubt he’d call back for it soon. It was a lovely pen. Just like the one Mr Jacob had given her as a leaving present.

  A turquoise Parker – exactly like the one she had lost.

  Theresa sat up and pulled open her handbag.

  She took out the pen Brian had lent her.

  She looked closely.

  It was the one she had lost, she was certain. Yes! It was her own pen, Mr Jacobs’ present to her. There, on the little silver band, were her own initials.

  How on earth did Brian come by it?

  Silly! He must have picked it up and taken it accidentally while he was a lodger here in her flat.

  Theresa put the pen down on the bedside table, threw her bag to the floor, turned off the light and lay back.

  She could hear earnest voices coming from the hotel room above.

  The man had an Australian accent. It sounded a lot like Ted. She hoped that if it was him he wouldn’t be dive-bombing naked into her yard again in the middle of the night.

  Whoever it was, he was with some woman, and they were talking very seriously.

  Sian was in town, so surely it couldn’t be Ted. He wouldn’t be that callous. It must surely be some other Australian male.

  She heard a door slam and then there was no more talk, although one person was still there in the hotel room above her. She could hear a woman’s voice humming to herself.

  Theresa craned her neck and could see the silhouette of a woman moving about.

  Not Sian, then.

  But it seemed that the woman was now on her own.

  Theresa turned over and, in the gloaming, gazed at her pen. How lovely to get it back. Dear Mr Jacobs. She must invite him over here for a weekend during the summer. Perhaps he could help her through all the legal business if she married Brian.

  Poor Brian. He was probably tired out after shopping, or maybe there had been some problem with the car. No doubt he would phone in the morning, or even arrive on the doorstep with hot croissants and an engagement ring.

  She smiled, shut her eyes and swiftly fell asleep.

  22

  Sally was woken at around seven by the shrill ring of the doorbell and the flap of her letterbox.

  A letter lay on the doormat. She stooped to pick it up and opened the door, but no one was there.

  The envelope was handwritten. Sally tore it open as she slopped into the kitchen to make herself a coffee.

  The letter was from Ted, telling her that he had caught an early flight for Australia and he was giving her the deeds for the boat, which were at the notary’s office at the top of the town. He said he was planning on starting a new life, in Oz.

  What was happening in Bellvue-Sur-Mer?

  First Carol, now Ted!

  Sally swigged back the coffee and hastily dressed.

  She wandered down to the seafront, hoping to bump into William or someone to talk to.

  In the distance, up the hill she heard the undulating wail of an ambulance or police vehicle.

  Theresa was sitting alone in the brasserie, nursing a café crème. She too looked pretty agitated.

  ‘Mind if I join you?’ asked Sally, pulling out a chair.

  Theresa gave a nervous smile.

  ‘I think someone must have put something in the water,’ said Sally. ‘It’s been a real night of goings-on.’

  ‘Really?’ Theresa bit her lip. Sally was always in close contact with Carol, perhaps she’d know if something had happened to the car and Brian had been hurt . . .

  ‘I was wondering about . . .’

  ‘Ted’s left for Australia,’ interrupted Sally. ‘He left me a note.’

  ‘Ted? He’s gone? For good?’

  ‘That’s what the letter implied.’

  ‘With Sian?’

  Sally shook her head. ‘I believe he told Sian in person.’

  ‘Did he go off with Jessica, then?’ asked Theresa. ‘Jessica’s gone too. She announced her departure to the men yesterday afternoon, at the end of lunch. Ted had a strange reaction, now I think back. He tried to tell us he’d never liked her.’

  ‘Really? Jessica’s also gone?’ Sally was shocked. She hadn’t bargained for that scenario at all. ‘That sounds as mad as Carol, then.’

  ‘What about Carol?’ asked Theresa.

  ‘She’s eloped with Brian.’

  Theresa felt the blood drain from her face. ‘Carol? Eloped? With Brian? My lodger Brian?’

  ‘Exactly! Can you imagine anything so absurd? They both drove off into the sunset yesterday afternoon. God alone knows where they are by now.’

  Before Theresa could find words to reply, William appeared, running round the corner, frantic, his face white as a sheet. He was yelling for Sally.

  ‘Sally! I’ve been searching for you. It’s terrible. Come quick.’

  ‘Oh God, what’s happened now?’

  ‘It’s Faith.’ William stopped at the edge of the terrace and stooped, holding his knees and taking deep breaths. ‘I just bumped into Alfie. He arrived home early this morning to find his mother lying on the bedroom floor, covered in blood, unconscious.’

  Theresa and Sally both rose hurriedly.

  ‘Is she all right?’ they asked, in unison.

  ‘The ambulance has taken her off to the hospital in Nice. It appears she was attacked early yesterday afternoon, and has been lying there ever since. The police are all over the house. It is pretty serious.’

  Part Three – Mayday

  23

  Faith remained in a coma, unable to provide any information about what had happened when she had been surprised by whoever had come into her house and attacked her.

  The one certain thing was that either Faith had left her front door open, or the perpetrator had had keys, so naturally Alfie was brought in for questioning. Later in the afternoon he was arrested, taken into the police station and subjected to hours of questioning about the assault upon his mother.

  Once the police had finished making their forensic investigations in the Bellevue-Sur-Mer house, Sally and Theresa went in to clean up the mess.

  Sally found herself again rearranging Faith’s things which had been swept on to the floor, and folding clothes to put back into the open and sometimes upturned drawers. Up in the bedroom there was a lot of blood. The mat had to be destroyed, as it was sodden. They changed the sheets and blankets on the bed, which were also bloodstained. Whoever had attacked Faith had obviously surprised her while she was having a nap, or lying on top of the bed reading.

  Theresa and Sally spoke to one another in short sharp phrases – horrible, oh dear, look at this, shall we? Neither woman could really take in what appeared to have happened here: a frail old woman battered by her own son.

  Both women were spinning the facts through their heads, sorry that they had been so hard on their own children, who were surely incapable of anything as bad as this atrocity.

  ‘I hope it’s not my fault,’ said Sally.

  ‘How could it be?’ asked Theresa.<
br />
  ‘I shouldn’t have interfered.’

  ‘You helped Faith out by buying the house so she could afford a little fun. Where’s the harm in that?’

  ‘It’s not what Alfie wanted.’

  ‘But it’s what Faith wanted. We cannot live our lives to please our children. And think about it, Sally, if we all went around doing everything to please them they’d hate us for that too.’

  ‘And, when you think about it, what difference could it make to his life whether she bought or rented? It’s mad.’

  When they had finished making the place look smart and clean again, together they phoned the hospital only to find there was no change in Faith’s condition.

  Then they locked up – having made sure to get a locksmith in, the same one who had fitted Theresa’s lock on the day she had been attacked on the steps, and secured the door with brand-new keys.

  When Sally got home, Marianne was waiting.

  ‘I’d better tell you the truth,’ she announced. ‘There isn’t going to be a wedding. There never was. I made it all up on the spur of the moment. I was trying to divert your attention from what was really going on. But now you’ll have to find out, as, it’ll all become pretty obvious now that Ted’s run off.’

  Sally was bewildered and said as much.

  ‘I am Sian’s mystery assistant.’

  ‘You’re what?’ Sally was very put out to think that she had been kept out of a secret shared between her daughter and her friend.

  ‘Naturally when I applied for the job I used Dad’s surname, not yours. But once I got the job I admitted to Sian you were my mother. I knew she was sure to find out sooner or later. Afterwards she told me she came to see you and laid down some pretty strong hints, but you never picked them up. And so she suggested we both continue to keep it quiet.’

  Sally felt hurt and insulted, both by her friend and her daughter.

  ‘You were the spy she sent to keep a watch out for Ted?’

  Marianne shrugged.

  ‘I have to say you didn’t do a very good job,’ said Sally.

  ‘I did everything I could. But he’s a blokey bloke. His own man. No one could have foreseen his running off to Australia like that, and once he’d decided to do it, who could have stopped him?’