Sheer Mischief

by Jill Mansell

  “I know.” Relief was tinged with caution, as if she still couldn’t quite believe he wasn’t going to kick her while she was down. “And I am happy. Look, I have to go now, Alan’s coming downstairs. Could you ask Maxine to phone me tomorrow as soon as she gets back from London?”

  At that moment Maxine came into the sitting room carrying two cups of tea and a packet of raisin cookies.

  “Well, actually—” said Guy, but Janey wasn’t listening.

  “And give my love to Josh and Ella,” she continued hurriedly. “Tell them I’ll see them soon. I really must go… Bye.”

  “She wants you to phone her tomorrow,” Guy told Maxine when he had replaced the receiver. “She thinks you’re still in London. She was in a hurry to hang up.”

  “And?” Maxine demanded, avid for details. “What did she say?”

  “Not a lot. Just that she understands why he left, and that they’re making another go of it.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Oh yes, and she’s happy.”

  Considering the almost total lack of interest he’d shown in her own love life, thought Maxine, he was displaying an astonishing amount of concern for Janey’s. It really seemed to have gotten to him. But that, she supposed, was because he knew she was capable of looking after herself. Janey, far less experienced where men were concerned, was a sitting target for unscrupulous males like Alan Sinclair. Why, she had even been hopelessly out of her depth with Bruno, and he was a pussycat…

  “I wonder what his excuse was,” she mused, offering Guy a raisin cookie. “It must have been spectacular. My God, when you think of the hard time some married men have if they just nip into the pub for a quick drink after work. They get home two hours late and their wives give them merry hell. Yet Alan gets home two years late and Janey’s thrilled to bits.”

  It was certainly ironic. Guy, who had also been giving the matter some thought, said, “She almost expects to be treated badly. I suppose you get used to it, if all the men you’ve ever known are bastards.”

  “You’ve said it.” Maxine grinned. “And then to top it all, she had to spend a week living here with you. Talk about the final straw.”

  “I haven’t treated her badly.” He looked offended. “I was perfectly nice.”

  “You!” Maxine choked on a mouthful of raisin cookie. “You’re never nice!”

  “I am when I want to be. It all depends on the company I keep.”

  “You’re never nice to me.”

  “Exactly.” Guy was staring into his cup. “And is it any wonder? This is the most disgusting tea I’ve ever drunk in my life.”

  Maxine tried hers. “Oh bum,” she said crossly. “The sugar isn’t sugar. It’s salt.”

  “I never thought I’d hear myself say this.” He shook his head in mock despair. “But I’m actually beginning to feel sorry for Bruno Parry-Brent. Does the poor sod have any idea what he’s taking on?”

  • • •

  For Bruno, it was a first. Total honesty, not something which had ever featured particularly heavily on his personal agenda before, was what was called for now.

  But if it was harder than he’d imagined, it was also necessary. Maxine had turned his entire world upside down. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. For as long as he could remember, he had been a committed philanderer. Infidelity had come as naturally to him as breathing. But that was in the past. His mad, bad days were behind him. The only person he wanted from now on was Maxine.

  It was two o’clock in the morning, and Nina was sitting at the kitchen table drinking chamomile tea. Her long, white fingers, wrapped around the cup, appeared almost luminous in the muted glow of the shaded wall lamps. Her face, bare of makeup, seemed paler still, but her voice remained calm.

  “So it was Janey Sinclair’s sister all the time.” She nodded thoughtfully. “How interesting. Janey talked to me about you, you know. I thought she was the one you were involved with.”

  “Not my type,” said Bruno, because total honesty was all very well, but some things were undoubtedly better left unsaid. He wasn’t concerned about his own reputation, but at least he could protect Janey’s.

  “And Maxine is?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re absolutely sure?”

  He nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “Oh well.” Nina shrugged and recrossed her legs. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. If I’m honest, I didn’t expect us to last this long.”

  She was taking it well, thought Bruno with gratitude. But then nothing ever fazed Nina. It was what he’d always liked about her. “I didn’t expect it to happen like this,” he admitted with a rueful smile. “And to me, of all people.”

  “Where will you live?”

  “I’m going to see Don Hickman tomorrow. Now that the summer season’s over, he should be able to find me a cheap vacation cottage. I suppose I’ll have to start looking out for another job too.” He paused, then added, “Unless you want me to carry on here…?”

  “No.” Nina shook her head. “Better not. I think we need a clean break.”

  “Right.” Bruno gave her a concerned look. “Are you sure you’ll be OK?”

  She smiled. “Of course I will. We had a good partnership, and now it’s over. It’s hardly the end of the world.”

  Leaning across the table, he kissed her pale forehead. “Thank you. For making it easy.”

  “My pleasure.” Nina returned the kiss, stroking his streaky-blond hair for a moment before rising to her feet and placing her empty teacup in the sink. “But it isn’t going to be quite so easy for you, financially. Does Maxine have plenty of money?”

  “No.”

  “Oh dear,” she said with affectionate amusement. “In that case, it really must be love.”

  • • •

  Bruno, fast asleep in the spare room, lay spread-eagled across the bed with one foot dangling over the side. With tears streaming silently down her cheeks, Nina stood in the doorway and watched the man she had loved for the past ten years dream of the girl he loved.

  Sadly, that girl wasn’t herself. But she had done absolutely the right thing, Nina reassured herself. Breaking down and begging him to stay—maybe even attempting to bribe him with yet more money—would only have earned his contempt. Instead she had been cool, calm, and understanding, and it was much the best way because now they could part as friends. More importantly, it kept the door open. Bruno would know he could always return.

  You’re leaving me now because you’re besotted with someone called Maxine Vaughan, thought Nina, who is undoubtedly beautiful and who makes you laugh. She’s probably brilliant in bed too. But she can’t possibly love you as much as I do, and that’s why I’m letting you go. Because it doesn’t matter how long it takes. I’m prepared to wait for you to come back.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “Oh, Janey, I’m so happy for you!” Maxine enveloped her sister in a bear hug and swung her around in the narrow hallway, trampling all over the Sunday papers that had only just been pushed through the letter box. “Look, I’ve brought champagne to celebrate. Where’s Alan, still in bed? Tell him to get up this minute and come and give his long-lost sister-in-law an enormous kiss!”

  Janey, abandoning the mangled newspapers, followed her up the stairs. “You’ve missed him. He’s gone to the surfing club. He’ll be back around midday.”

  Inwardly relieved, Maxine squeezed Janey’s hand. “Oh well. Never mind. There’ll be plenty of time for that later. Maybe it’s nicer this way—we can have a proper talk without interruptions, and drink all the champagne ourselves. Come along, grab a jacket and a couple of glasses; it’s time to hit the beach.”

  • • •

  It was cold but sunny, and the tide was on its way out. Down at the water’s edge, Janey held up the glasses while Maxine eased the cork from the bottle, aiming it into the glittering turq
uoise sea.

  “To you and Alan,” she said with a grin as they walked along after their glasses had been filled. “May you live happily ever after. Cheers!”

  “Cheers,” Janey responded with a dutiful smile. She was pleased Maxine was pleased, but it had also come as something of a surprise. Having anticipated suspicion, criticism, and a million questions laced with Maxine’s own particular brand of sarcasm, she was still very much on her guard. Champagne on the beach and wholehearted approval weren’t what she’d been expecting at all.

  “This is from Guy, by the way.” Maxine waved the bottle. “He sends his best wishes. Oh, and something else.” Rummaging in the inner pocket of her ancient leather flying jacket, she produced a crumpled check. “Your wages for last week.”

  Janey was almost embarrassed to take the check. It seemed odd, accepting payment for something that hadn’t even seemed like work. But since refusing the money would appear even odder, she stuffed it into the back pocket of her jeans. “Thanks. I enjoyed it.”

  “So did they.” Maxine rolled her eyes in mock reproach. “Although I’m beginning to seriously regret sending you there. Josh and Ella actually expect me to bake cakes now! And I mean real cakes,” she added darkly, “with flour and stuff. Not even the kind you make from a packet.”

  Both intrigued and amused, Janey waited to see how long Maxine could hold out. She was clearly making a heroic effort not to get down to the nitty-gritty and ask all the questions she would normally have blurted out within milliseconds. Janey, guessing that Guy must have had a stern word with her on the subject, made a silent bet with herself that Maxine would crumble somewhere between the smugglers’ cave and the rock pools.

  The smugglers’ cave was still two hundred yards ahead of them, however, when Maxine, in the middle of prattling on about the hideous little brat with whom she’d costarred in the toilet-roll commercial, suddenly stopped dead and ripped off her sunglasses.

  “OK, that’s enough,” she declared, fixing her dark eyes on Janey and daring her to move. “You’ve had your fun, but this is downright cruel. It’s all very well for Guy bloody Cassidy to warn me against giving you the third degree, but I am your sister, after all. So stop pretending to be interested in my glittering career and tell me everything before I explode!”

  Janey glanced at her watch. Nine whole minutes; whoever would have thought Maxine would be capable of restraining herself for that length of time?

  “Everything you need to know?” she said innocently. “Right. Well, first of all, you sieve the flour into a bowl. Don’t forget to add a pinch of salt. Then you—”

  “Stop it!” Maxine shrieked, picking up a dripping, slippery mass of seaweed and advancing toward her. “Tell me about Alan. Tell me why he left, why he came back, what he’s been doing, what you’re going to do.”

  • • •

  The trouble was, by the time Janey had finished telling her, Maxine was no longer so sure she wanted to know. What she found almost impossible to understand was the fact that Janey actually seemed to believe the incredible line her bastard of a husband had been feeding her. As far as Maxine was concerned, she’d never heard such a heap of total and utter bullshit in her entire life.

  “…So that’s it,” Janey concluded, reaching for the Bollinger and tipping the last of it into their empty glasses. With a sidelong glance in Maxine’s direction, she said with a trace of defiance, “Go on then, your turn. You must have an opinion.”

  Mere words couldn’t even begin to convey her opinion of Alan Sinclair, thought Maxine, almost beside herself with silent rage. But she also realized she’d been right about Janey, who clearly wouldn’t tolerate even the mildest of criticisms. One wrong word and she would leap to Alan’s defense. Any suggestion that he might have been less than honest and it would be champagne corks at thirty paces.

  But she was an actress, thank goodness, and she could outact even her unspeakable brother-in-law any day of the week. For the sake of her pride, Janey was going to have to make the discovery of just how unspeakable he really was in her own time.

  For the past week, Maxine’s dramatic talent had been stretched to the limit, pronouncing, in entirely convincing tones, “When you have Softglide in your bathroom, you know you have the best.” Now, perched on a cold rock at the far end of Trezale beach, she stretched it that little bit further and said simply, “Oh, Janey, what on earth were you expecting me to say? You’re happy, and that’s good enough for me. I’m glad he’s back.”

  They were making their way back along the shoreline when Janey unwittingly asked the question Maxine had been gearing herself up for. “So what else happened in London? You must have gone to a few parties. Did you meet any nice men?”

  Janey was carrying the glasses. Maxine, who had stuffed the empty Bollinger bottle inside her jacket, was skimming pebbles across the water. She watched the last pebble collide with a wave and disappear from view. A gust of wind blew her hair into her eyes, and she used the extra seconds it gave her to compose herself.

  “I went to a party,” she said finally, “and met a nice man.”

  “And now it’s my turn to be kept in suspense?” Janey protested. “Come along, don’t be shy! Give me the gory details.”

  “I’ve known him for a while.” Maxine took a deep breath and wished she could have persuaded Guy to part with two bottles of champagne. A little extra dutch courage would have come in useful. “But until the party I didn’t even know I liked him. You know him too—quite well, in fact. And I don’t think you’re going to like it much when I tell you who he is.”

  Janey thought hard for a moment. With a perplexed shrug, she said, “Well, you’ve got me. But if it’s an actor…” Her eyes widened in mock amazement and she clapped her free hand to her chest. “You don’t mean…Chris Hemsworth—”

  “Look, he loves me and I love him,” said Maxine rapidly. “It’s serious stuff. I know you hate him, but you have to believe me…for the first time in my life I really do feel—”

  “Chris Hemsworth?” shrieked Janey, and several seagulls beat a panicky retreat.

  “Bruno.” Maxine’s shoulders stiffened in an unconscious gesture of defiance. There, she’d said it. Now all she had to do was pray Janey didn’t burst into tears.

  But Janey was starting to laugh. “Is this a joke? Max, that’s not fair. Come on now, I told you everything!”

  “And now I’m telling you. It really isn’t a joke.” The words spilled out fast, jerkily. Maxine took another steadying breath. “He turned up at the party on Friday night and practically kidnapped me. Except I wanted to be kidnapped,” she amended, a shiver running down her spine even as she recalled the sheer romance of it all. “He wants to marry me. He’s leaving Nina. Oh, Janey, it was as much of a shock to me as it is for you, but it just happened! I can’t even begin to describe how I feel…”

  “Well,” said Janey as the gulls continued to wheel frantically overhead. “I’m stunned.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry I’m stunned, or sorry it’s Bruno?”

  “You know what I mean.” Maxine bit her lower lip. “I’ve been dreading telling you. Do you absolutely hate me?”

  “I don’t hate you. I can’t believe you’re being so incredibly stupid,” sighed Janey, “but of course I don’t hate you. Max, the last time I came for a walk along this beach, somebody gave me the most almighty lecture. I can’t remember it word for word, but it had something to do with keeping well away from Bruno Parry-Brent because he was an unprincipled, sex-crazed, triple-timing shit-gigolo-bastard who would bring me nothing but everlasting grief.” Pausing, she tilted her head to one side. “Now does that ring any bells with you, or do you have a twin sister I don’t know about?”

  “Oh hell,” said Maxine uncomfortably. She braced herself once more. “Look, I know I said all those things, but that’s the whole point—he would only hav
e made you miserable. You’re a nice person, and you expect everyone else to be nice too. You’re trusting, unselfish, honest; as far as people like Bruno are concerned, it’s practically an open invitation to behave badly. They can’t resist it. And I know,” she added with passion in her voice, “because I’m like Bruno too. I don’t trust men, I’m a selfish bitch, and I lie like a dog. Don’t you see, Janey? Bruno and I were made for each other! We’re a perfectly matched pair.”

  Janey frowned. “I thought you loathed him.”

  “I did.” Maxine gave her an apologetic look. “Well, I thought I did. But what I really loathed was the fact that I knew he’d end up hurting you. You see, it was like watching a rerun of me and Maurice. You know what I’m like, Janey. I simply can’t handle nice, dependable men. The better they treat me, the worse I behave. If a man’s going to keep me on my toes, keep me interested, he needs to be a bastard, someone I can fight with. I don’t mean getting beaten up,” she added hastily, as Janey’s eyebrows rose. “I’m not into black eyes and teeth flying in all directions. I just need someone I don’t trust enough to take for granted.”

  Maxine was rattling on at a furious pace, putting across every argument she could think of. Strangely, thought Janey, it rang true. It might be weird, but it made sense.

  “I know it’s masochistic,” Maxine went on. “I’m a hopeless case. But if it’s easy, there’s no buzz. And I need that buzz…”

  Uncomfortably aware that she was once again echoing Maxine’s own words to her, Janey said, “There’s still Nina. You say Bruno’s going to leave her. What makes you think he will?”

  “I don’t have to think.” The gulls were still wheeling noisily overhead. Maxine suppressed an urge to hurl the champagne bottle at them. Meeting Janey’s concerned gaze, she recalled Bruno’s phone call earlier this morning. “I know,” she said simply. “He already has.”

  They had finished retracing their steps. Janey’s white beach shoes were awash with sand. By the time they’d made their way back up the main street, it was almost midday.