by Caro Fraser
‘Well, he’s had his problems. Cora told you at lunch.’
‘Yeah, how delightful was that?’ Barry opened the fridge. ‘You won’t be wanting these lagers, will you? Mind if I take them?’
‘Go ahead,’ sighed Judith. ‘Are you two seeing anything of your dad over the holidays?’
‘I haven’t heard from him,’ said Barry.
‘He said he was coming over, that he’d be in touch. Must have changed his mind.’
‘Oh, well …’ Judith folded a tea towel. ‘Thanks for coming – and for the lovely presents.’
‘No problem, Mum. Lunch was great.’ Barry gave his mother a kiss.
‘Yes, thanks, Mum. Sorry I have to go so early. It’s just I told Gabrielle—’
‘Don’t worry. You get off. Don’t forget to say bye-bye to Cora and Sidney.’
Out in the cold of the quiet street, Barry asked Anthony, ‘What did you get Mum?’
‘A voucher for a day at some spa in the West End. It’s the kind of thing she’d never buy for herself. What about you?’
‘Egg timer. She said she needed a new one.’ He caught Anthony’s look. ‘What? I just don’t happen to be loaded like you.’
The remark gave Anthony a momentary pang. He’d recently been shocked to discover how little was left in his current account, the day after he’d spent eight hundred pounds on a bracelet for Gabrielle. That was the trouble with splashing out hundreds – even the odd thousand – at casinos. You got used to dealing in big figures, even when it came to things like Christmas presents for your girlfriend. Still, there were quite a few outstanding fees that he would get Henry to chase up in the New Year, and a couple of decent wins at the tables could easily set things to rights, if his luck would just turn. Which it had to. No need to worry.
‘Need a lift?’ asked Anthony.
‘Depends where you’re going.’
‘South Ken.’
Barry shook his head. ‘It’s OK. I’m heading to Deptford to see some mates. I’ll catch a bus.’ They paused on the street corner. ‘By the way, I’m compering a gig at a club in Greenwich at New Year, if you fancy coming along. Bring your girlfriend.’
‘Yeah, could be fun. Email me.’
Anthony left Barry to wait for his bus and headed to where his car was parked. It was a BMW Z4, and he had bought it just three weeks ago, when he was still flush with the giddy sensation of having banked a hundred and ten thousand pounds from one single case. Its purchase had given him immense pleasure at the time. Now, as he pressed the remote through his coat pocket and heard the expensive slitch of the central system unlocking, he felt a faint sickness at the thought of having spent so much on a car. It’s not like you’re Leo, he told himself. But Leo was who he so badly wanted to be. Successful, in demand, work flooding in, plenty of spare cash to spend on the good things in life. He wanted to feel that everything was fine, that he was entitled to be behaving as he was.
He stopped by the car and drew in a long, deep breath of frosty air, wishing that he could just drive to Oxfordshire, to Leo’s house, and find him there with a welcoming glass of whisky, ready to listen to it all and understand and help him. But in the place he was, he felt he couldn’t reach out to anyone. He opened the car, its interior fragrant with the faintly sickly smell of new leather, and drove through the quiet streets to meet Gabrielle’s parents.
It was almost half five. Leo and Oliver had spent the last half-hour on the rug in front of the fire building a football stadium out of Lego. Rachel came into the living room carrying a tray with mugs of coffee for herself and Leo, and a glass of juice for Oliver.
Leo got up, and Oliver rolled over onto his back. ‘Mummy, can I eat my Smarties and watch my Wall-E DVD now?’
‘OK. You know where it is?’
Oliver nodded, fetched his DVD and put it on, then sat down cross-legged on the rug with a giant tube of Smarties from his Christmas stocking. Rachel curled up in a corner of the sofa and Leo sat down next to her. ‘What’s Wally?’
‘Wall-E,’ corrected Rachel. ‘It’s a film about a robot. It’s really pretty good. You should watch it.’ She sipped her coffee and added, ‘You don’t have to go, you know. You could always stay and meet Simon.’
Oliver had started to talk about Simon over lunch. Later, during a walk in the park, while Oliver was busy cracking ice at the pond’s edge, Rachel had filled in the details.
Leo grimaced. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’
‘Why not? You have to meet him sometime.’
‘Do I? Is it that serious?’
Rachel hesitated. ‘Possibly. I don’t know.’
She had coloured faintly, not meeting his eye, and Leo could tell all he needed to know simply from her manner. He wasn’t sure quite how he felt. He only knew that he didn’t want to be reminded twice in one evening of his status as the outsider. He would be meeting Gabrielle’s parents later, and having it brought home to him how much he had missed – lost – in the twenty-two years of not knowing about her was going to be bad enough. Making small talk with Rachel’s new boyfriend, of whom Oliver appeared to think so highly, was not something he felt up to.
‘Anyway, I have to be somewhere.’
‘So you said. Who are you meeting?’
Leo knew she assumed he was seeing some lover – man or woman. He glanced at Oliver, making sure he was absorbed in his film. He needed to tell someone about Gabrielle. Rachel seemed like the ideal person.
‘It’s someone I met three months ago.’
Rachel gave a wry smile, twisting her coffee mug in her hands.
‘It’s not what you think. I need you to listen. Please. This is something I haven’t told anyone else. Three months ago this girl, she walked out of nowhere one night as I was getting out of my car, and told me she was my daughter.’
‘What?’ Rachel stared at him.
‘I have a daughter. From an affair I had with a French girl twenty-two years ago. It was just a brief thing. When we split up I had no idea she was pregnant. I don’t think she did either. Anyway, her name’s Gabrielle – my daughter, that is. So Oliver has a half-sister.’
‘Are you convinced it’s true? That she is who she says she is?’
‘Oh yes. We’ve talked. I met Jacqueline – her mother – just a week ago.’ For the next twenty minutes Leo told Rachel the whole story, describing Gabrielle, trying to explain his feelings, the extraordinary, momentous effect of the arrival of this unknown child in his life. Rachel listened, asking occasional questions.
When he’d finished, Rachel shook her head. ‘How extraordinary.’
‘I want you and Oliver to meet her. You’d like her.’
‘So that’s where you’re going now?’
Leo drained his coffee mug. ‘Gabrielle says she wants me to get to know her father and her brothers. I’m not sure.’
‘About what?’
‘About being the spectator, looking in on other people’s happy lives. Realising what I could have had, if I wasn’t so …’ He rubbed his chin. ‘So selfish. Self-absorbed. I suspect it’s rather the reason I don’t want to meet Simon.’
Rachel looked down at her half-drunk coffee. ‘You needn’t feel that way. About Simon, I mean.’ There was a long silence. Leo waited, half-expecting what she would say. ‘If being part of our lives, Oliver’s and mine, is really what you want, that can still happen. Properly. The way it was.’
Her eyes met his. ‘The way it was?’ He reached out a hand and lifted the diamond studded chain that hung at her neck, lightly touching with his thumb the pulse that beat in her slender throat. The sound of Oliver’s cartoon rose in the room and filled the silence between them. ‘I am part of your lives. Anything more than this wouldn’t work. We’ve been there once before. And I’d only disappoint you again. I know it. You know it.’
She let her gaze drop, and Leo took his hand away. Suddenly the doorbell rang.
‘That’s Simon,’ said Rachel.
As she got up to answer t
he door, Leo joined Oliver on the rug and paused the DVD. ‘Daddy has to go, I’m afraid.’ Oliver wormed his way onto Leo’s knee and put his arms round his father’s neck, still clutching his tube of Smarties. He had chocolate around his mouth.
‘Have you had a nice Christmas?’ asked Leo.
Oliver nodded. ‘Would you like one of my Smarties?’
‘Thanks. Can I have an orange one?’
Oliver inserted a finger into the tube and prised out an orange Smartie. He watched Leo put it in his mouth. ‘Have you had a nice Christmas too, Daddy?’
‘Yes, I have. Very.’
‘Did you like the calendar I made you?’
‘It’s my favourite present. I’m going to put it on my desk at work.’
Oliver nodded, gratified. ‘My fire station is brilliant.’
‘Good. I’m glad you like it. You know you’re coming to spend a whole week with me next weekend?’
‘Yeah, I know.’ His soft smile filled his face, made his eyes glow, and touched Leo to the core of his being. Oliver glanced round as Rachel came into the room with a young man.
‘Simon!’ Oliver scrambled to his feet and went to hug Simon.
‘Hi, mate. Merry Christmas.’ He hugged Oliver and handed him a present. ‘For you.’
Oliver tore the paper open. ‘Geomag! Wow! That’s genius!’
‘Say thank you,’ said Rachel.
‘Thank you.’
Simon laughed. ‘Glad you like it.’
While this had been going on, Leo had quietly fetched his coat, and was fishing for his car keys. He and Simon glanced at one another.
‘Leo, this is Simon – Simon, Leo.’
They shook hands awkwardly. ‘I was just leaving,’ said Leo.
‘Simon,’ said Rachel, ‘why don’t you help yourself to a drink? There’s some wine in the fridge.’
Simon dutifully headed to the kitchen, leaving Leo to say goodbye to Rachel and Oliver.
‘Seems a nice enough young man,’ said Leo.
‘Not so very young. He’s thirty-six.’
‘I guess it all depends on your vantage point.’ Leo smiled, and bent to scoop up Oliver and kiss him. ‘Be good for Mummy. I’ll pick you up next Friday evening. And I’ll be speaking to you on the phone before then.’
‘OK, Daddy.’ Leo set him down, and he headed back to his DVD and his Smarties.
Leo turned to Rachel. ‘Thanks for today.’
‘It was fun. Oliver likes us all being together.’ She smiled. ‘So do I.’
Leo kissed her face lightly, and opened the door to step out into the chilly evening air. He turned. ‘Speak to you in the week. Merry Christmas.’
‘Merry Christmas.’
If only she would let go, thought Leo, as he opened the car door. Then someone like Simon might stand more of a chance. He got in and turned the key in the ignition, letting the engine run for a moment, wishing he didn’t have to go to South Kensington. He really wasn’t in the mood for meeting Jacqueline’s family, for coping with a situation where small talk and the usual rules of social engagement were bound not to suffice, given the weirdness of the situation, making things even more awkward. Gabrielle was enough for him. He had no need of the rest. But Gabrielle and Jacqueline seemed to want to knit him into the family fabric.
He sighed and leant back against the headrest. His phone buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket. Jamie’s name appeared on the screen, and he answered.
‘Jamie?’
‘I’m sorry, Leo, I shouldn’t be calling you on Christmas Day.’
‘That’s OK. I’ve just left Rachel’s. What’s up?’
Jamie made a sound halfway between a groan and a sob. ‘I don’t know. Christ, I just needed to talk to someone.’
‘Hey, it’s fine,’ said Leo gently, alarmed by the distress in his big friend’s voice. ‘Talk to me.’
‘I’ve been with Margo and the boys today. And a couple of other family members. Her family.’ Leo heard him draw a deep, shaky breath. ‘Fucking misery from start to finish. She and I – we’ve been having some disagreements recently about property and money. That is, her lawyers have persuaded her she deserves more. Christ knows I’ve been generous – what option do I have? Anyway, we’d agreed that whatever is happening in the divorce, we’d try to keep things pleasant today. You know, because it’s been hard on Alice and Nick, and we promised them at the time that whatever happened, their mother and I would stay friends. But today at lunch she started on about the money. Why? Today of all days? With the kids there? They were great, tried to stop her, talk her down, but she – well, Margo had had a bit to drink, and she started on them, and the whole thing got out of hand.’
‘God, I’m sorry.’
‘Nick took it pretty badly. He’s having a tough time in his final year at uni. The last thing he needed was that kind of crap on Christmas Day. Alice took him off for a walk. I tried to calm things down, but I was left with Margo and her family, so you can imagine … I don’t know how we came to this, Leo. What the hell happened? It wasn’t like I did something, like I had an affair or anything. One day I think I’m happily married, and the next – this.’
‘Where are you now?’
‘A service station on the M25.’ Jamie managed a sad laugh, which was a good sign.
‘Right. Well, why don’t you head to my place in Chelsea? I’ll be home in ten minutes. We can spend the evening there. One of my clients gave me a very fine twenty-year-old Macallan, and I need some help drinking it.’
‘Are you sure? God, Leo, that would be a lifesaver. I just don’t want to be on my own.’
‘To be honest, I’m feeling somewhat vulnerable myself. I could do with the company.’
‘OK. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. There’s bugger all traffic about.’
‘Good. I may even warm up some mince pies.’
Leo ended the call. He stared at his mobile for a few seconds, then keyed in Gabrielle’s number to tell her he wouldn’t be there that evening after all.
The drawing room in which Anthony sat, nursing a glass of champagne and waiting for Gabrielle to return, was vast and expensively furnished. Gideon Hatch rugs lay scattered on the silk-pale polished wooden floor, and on the smoke-coloured walls were hung contemporary prints and photographs. The curtains remained undrawn on the windows which overlooked Ennismore Gardens, and the black night threw back reflections of the Adam fireplace, the long, black leather sofas and low glass tables, and the eighteen or so guests gathered in the room, talking and laughing with their hosts.
Anthony wondered if they’d left the curtains undrawn deliberately, to offer passers-by a tantalising glimpse into their privileged world, rich people enjoying themselves, cocooned in their warm, brightly lit rooms. He remembered when he was younger, walking past windows such as these, wondering about the inhabitants, what it must be like to live in such style. Now he sat on the other side of the window, a glass of champagne in his hand, feeling slightly bored. He had had a cursory conversation with Daniel Stanley, Gabrielle’s father, whose swiftly appraising gaze and faintly impatient manner left him feeling oddly unworthy, and a longer one with Gabrielle’s mother, who was sweet, but overly fascinated by anything he had to say, as though she needed to obscure her own personality by finding her guests transfixing. Gabrielle’s brothers were decent enough, but they had invited their own group of friends, and were busily engaged in gossip and plans of their own at the other end of the sofa.
Gabrielle came back into the room, her mobile phone in one hand, and a dark look in her eyes. She wasn’t smiling. Anthony sighed inwardly. Gabrielle in a bad mood was no fun. He got up and met her halfway.
‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing. It doesn’t matter. Someone I invited tonight can’t make it, that’s all.’
‘Who? Obviously someone important.’
She said nothing. She had been pretending to herself that bringing Leo here tonight would be a painless way to present Anthony with the fact
that Leo was her father. But she now saw that it had been a very bad idea. Whatever the truth of Anthony’s relationship with Leo, a surprise of this kind would have gone down very badly. Leo probably wouldn’t have been particularly pleased, either. She was confronted with the fact that she must have some ulterior motive which she herself didn’t understand. She only knew that as her feelings for Anthony grew, so did her need to uncover the relationship between him and Leo, to lay it bare. Was she jealous? She must be. But of what? She had no idea. That was what burnt her, consumed her. Whatever she had hoped to achieve this evening, she would not have discovered what there was between her father and her lover. Perhaps it was all much more straightforward than she had thought. Perhaps it was simply a question of asking. But which one to ask?
She forced a smile. ‘Just someone I wanted you to meet. But it’s not important.’ She put an arm round his neck and kissed him. ‘Not as important as you. Let’s give this another half-hour and go back to yours. Or did you have other plans?’
Anthony looked into her blue eyes. ‘Absolutely not. I can’t think of a nicer way to end the day.’
Sarah got back to Chelsea late in the evening. The day had been better than she’d anticipated, with her cousins Alice and Hugo turning up unexpectedly with their mother, Sir Vivian’s half-sister. Her father also seemed to have forgiven her for Toby, which was a relief.
Seeing light from the living room, she looked in. Leo was stretched out on a sofa, reading.
‘Glad to see you like your present,’ said Sarah.
Leo looked up and smiled. ‘The Lost Railways of North Wales. Inspirational. Not even my mother could have come up with this.’
‘Why are you whispering?’
Leo put a finger to his lips and pointed. On a sofa on the other side of the room lay Jamie, head propped on a cushion, deeply asleep.
‘Who’s that?’ whispered Sarah.
‘Just a minute.’ He left the room and came back with a duvet, which he draped over Jamie.
‘He’s an old friend who’s going through a bad divorce. He had a not very happy Christmas Day, so I’ve been helping him drown his sorrows.’ He motioned to the door, and they went out, closing it behind them.