‘How dare you!’ she spluttered, not understanding why he’d come out of character, when he’d been so specific in his requests. Perhaps this was all part of the game. ‘You sit still until I’ve finished.’
To her surprise he stood up again, looking at her warily. ‘What the hell is going on here?’ he said. With a sick lurch in her stomach, she saw his bewilderment was real.
Roz felt her face burn. Her heart was pounding.
‘You’re not Sebastian?’
The man in front of her slowly shook his head. ‘Sadly not. My name’s Jamie. Charlotte asked me to pop round and take a look at the ground at the back to see if it might make a building plot.’ He smiled and held out a hand. ‘And you’re Rosalind. I’ve just remembered …’
Even after he’d got her a glass of water, Roz still thought she might be sick.
Jamie, he explained calmly, was a chartered surveyor from Canterbury. He had been given a key to the side gate but Charlotte had told him to be sure to ring on the doorbell first. ‘She didn’t want you to worry if you saw a strange man wandering about in the garden.’ He had smiled again then. ‘She thought you might be scared,’ he added. ‘Which is somewhat ironic since I found you absolutely terrifying …’
He’d shown her the key as if she might not believe him, but she was still breathing too hard to speak.
Suppose he’d knocked when she was in the middle of seeing the real client. Suppose he’d gone round the back and then looked through the window …
‘I’m so sorry,’ she managed eventually. ‘I was just – I’m rehearsing for a play,’ she improvised desperately. ‘The chap I was expecting is going to be in it with me … I haven’t er met him yet but we were going to go through our lines.’
She tried to laugh as though it were all perfectly normal and jolly and heard herself give a strangled yeIp.
Jamie was backing away from her again, his hands held wide in front of him in a shrugging gesture.
‘It’s none of my business,’ he said.
Roz’s heart was still beating too fast. The real Sebastian would presumably arrive any minute. What the fuck was she going to do?
Then she remembered he’d given her a number. She’d have to head him off. ‘Are you going to go and look then?’ she squeaked. ‘At the garden, I mean.’
He nodded slowly, ‘I think I’d better,’ he said meaningfully.
‘Here, come through this way,’ Roz scuttled through to the conservatory beyond the sitting room and twisted the handle to open the French doors onto the flagstones that led to the immaculate lawns. ‘I’ll just – just be in here,’ she said, catching sight of herself in the huge mirror in the hall as she rushed back to the vast kitchen to find her phone.
What the hell must he think of her in her tweeds and stout lace up shoes? Her face was bright red, her hair escaping from the bun now. Oh Christ, had he noticed the cane propped up in the corner? Thank God it hadn’t been the day for Andy when she had to put on the fish nets and boots.
Her hands were shaking violently as she scrabbled in her handbag for her phone, frantically scrolling through for the last email from ‘Sebastian’ with his number on the bottom. Running late, she texted, jabbing at the keys, praying he wouldn’t ring on the bell before she’d finished. Please arrive 4.30.
She pressed send, breathing heavily, sending as an afterthought: You can spend the time reflecting on how bad you’ve been, so he might think it all part of the service. He should be in a lather of anticipation when he did finally arrive, she thought wryly.
Through the kitchen window she could see Jamie strolling up and down, pointing what looked like an electronic measuring device towards the swimming pool and apparently talking to himself. He was voice recording his notes, she imagined. Oh Christ, suppose he was also recording what she’d said, all the better to tell Charlotte. She had to stop him …
By the time he came back in, she’d got her hair back in place, and more lipstick on and trusted herself to speak normally. She repeated her excuse about the play.
‘That’s why I’m dressed like this,’ she offered. ‘I find it helps me to remember the lines if I get into role early.’
‘Yes, I thought it must be something like that,’ he said solemnly, his chin twitching slightly as if trying not to laugh.
‘It is,’ she said more firmly. ‘That’s how I always approach a new drama.’
Jamie looked amused. ‘Er would you like to go for a coffee somewhere?’ He gave another small smile. ‘Perhaps with a brandy in it? You do still look a bit shaken.’
‘I’ve not got time. My co-star – well co-performer, I wasn’t trying to say I’m the lead or anything,’ she stumbled, embarrassed. ‘In fact, it’s quite a minor part.’
‘I’ll have to come and see it,’ Jamie said pleasantly. ‘When is it on?’
‘We haven’t got a date yet.’
‘Even though you’re already rehearsing?’
He raised his eyebrows, leaning back in the doorway, looking relaxed and stylish in his well-cut suit trousers and clearly-expensive shirt with silver cufflinks. How could she have thought he wanted to be bent over and beaten with an old plimsoll? But Melody had insisted she’d get all sorts …
‘The playwright is still working on it – it’s in development,’ she said. ‘Steven’s a friend of mine. We are trying it out for him,’ she added, inspired. ‘And when he’s finished writing it and had feedback from the proposed cast, then he will schedule it. It will probably be on at the Sarah Thorne Memorial Theatre,’ she finished, for extra authenticity.
‘I’ll look out for it,’ he said, still in the same measured tone. ‘What’s the play called?’
‘It’s only got a working title at the moment,’ she said desperately. ‘Er – STRICTLY SPEAKING. It’s about a boarding school,’ she added. ‘With a very stern headmistress.’
Jamie smiled. ‘I could see that.’ He looked around him. ‘So where is your fellow thesp?’
‘He’ll be here any minute. He’s running late.’
‘Ah.’
Roz suddenly felt as though she might cry. ‘Please don’t tell Charlotte, she blurted. ‘I hadn’t asked her about rehearsing here and I really should have done. I will do – I will of course, but if you could not mention it, so it comes from me–’
Jamie nodded – his brown eyes fixed on hers. She couldn’t decide if they were still amused or disapproving.
‘As I said,’ he replied lightly. ‘It’s really none of my business …’
‘Oh, I love it!’ Melody gave another long peal of laughter. ‘That happened to me once. Poor bloke had only come round to talk me into faster broadband and by the time he’d managed to explain, I’d already chained him to the radiator.’
Roz smiled uneasily. Melody seemed utterly delighted by this tale but it just made Roz feel sick all over again.
‘When the real bloke arrived, I didn’t feel up to it,’ she said. ‘I went through the motions but I expect he was quite disappointed.’
‘Probably didn’t even notice,’ said Melody, taking another swallow from her mojito. ‘Most of ’em are quite easily pleased. Want to do another two-hander with me on Tuesday night? He likes at least a couple of hours but he’ll give us five hundred. Stockings and suspenders.’
Roz nodded. She’d be safe at Melody’s house. That night after Jamie, she’d determined never to do it again, but then when her credit card statement had arrived at the same time as her ancient Volvo was due its MOT, and Colin had wanted to rebook, she’d found herself agreeing to the same time and place and just praying that Charlotte wouldn’t send anyone else round, or more horrifying to contemplate, decide to call in herself.
So far though, her friend had always warned her if there were any viewings booked. And Roz had formed a plan.
‘I leave the chain on, and look through the peephole to check it IS the proper client,’ she told Melody, ‘and then once he’s in I bolt the front door from the inside so nobody else can let them
selves in. Charlotte would have to ring the bell and I could get rid of whoever it was, out the back. I’ve got a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a baggy t-shirt I can throw over fishnets, while I’m pretending to be coming to the door. I can tell her I saw someone dodgy outside and was being security conscious …’
‘Bleeding hell – you have thought it through,’ Melody was admiring. ‘That should cover it, all right.’
But Roz was suffused with shame at her elaborate scheme to deceive someone who was her dear friend. She could switch operations to her own home, but recoiled at the thought of doing anything like that in the place where her daughter lived. And the neighbours would wonder about all these strange men …
‘You still look very worried though.’ Melody finished her drink and picked up Roz’s empty glass too. ‘Is it just all the bills?’ she asked sympathetically. ‘Or is something else wrong?’
Chapter 11
There’s a poster on the wall at the surgery listing five signs you may not realise could mean breast cancer. I know every sign and symptom and type and outcome – I have spent hours on research. None of it sounds like me. I look around me at the others waiting. Apart from the bloke in the corner who appears to be coughing his last, nobody else looks particularly ill. I wonder if any of them are sitting here, heart thumping painfully, because they have something growing on them.
My GP is kind. He can see I am terrified and is brisk and reassuring. He only touches my stress-lump briefly and then goes back to his screen and begins to tap at his keyboard. He thinks it is a cyst but of course we must get it checked out. I am to attend the breast clinic and an appointment will be made for me within fourteen days. The NHS works fast when it might be serious. He asked me how long the stress-lump had been there and I saw the look in his eyes when I told him. He thinks I should have come earlier. But if it is only a cyst, it won’t matter …
But you think it’s a cyst, I say, just to hear it one more time. This time he hesitates for a fraction as if tugged at by sudden doubt. ‘I think so,’ he says. ‘But the clinic will tell you for sure.’
He asks me if I have support. And my heart tightens. Why do I need it?
I haven’t told the others – I will when my stress-lump has been removed and I am back to normal. It will seem funny then.
Chapter 12
‘Ha ha, bloody hilarious, Love.’
Charlotte put the birthday card from Fay on her kitchen windowsill with the others and began to open the package. ‘Thought we said no presents, as we’re doing the party.’
‘It’s only small.’
‘That’s what you’ve all said.’ Charlotte waved a hand towards the Jo Malone candle Sherie had brought her and the bouquet of flowers from Roz. ‘OH – thanks Love – that’s gorgeous.’
She put the beaded clutch bag down on the table and opened the fridge. ‘Champagne?’
‘I should say so. And it’s the real stuff as well!’ Fay picked up one of the flutes from the counter and held it out as Charlotte poured.
‘My husband presented me with a case of it this morning.’ Charlotte’s voice was even. ‘As well as this.’ She held out her arm to display a tasteful gold bangle. ‘Says I’m getting my proper present at the party.’
‘Gosh,’ said Roz, faintly behind her.
Charlotte didn’t look round. Her eyes were still on Fay, eyebrows slightly raised, expression meaningful. ‘He’s being very attentive.’
‘Of course he is,’ Fay kept her voice brisk. ‘It’s your birthday!’ She turned towards Roz and Sherie and raised her glass. ‘Many Happy returns.’
They all chorused.
‘This looks amazing,’ Roz said, surveying the plates that were covering Charlotte’s long kitchen table. ‘When you said ‘nibbles’ I was imagining a couple of bowls of crisps.’
‘At Charlotte’s house?’ Sherie laughed. ‘You’re kidding. It does look great though.’ She picked up a strip of yellow pepper and dipped it in the homemade guacamole. ‘Must have taken you hours.’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘I got the pâtés and the quiche from that new deli in Charlotte Street – have you been yet? Brilliant cheeses. I only whizzed that up and chopped the veg and made the salad and the garlic bread. Dig in!’
‘Or we’ll be eating it all weekend!’ Roger appeared among them. ‘And Becky’s insisting on some Thai or Chinese or–’ He looked at Charlotte. ‘What is it?’
Charlotte addressed the others. ‘The new Fusion place on Northdown Road. Bex is coming back tomorrow morning – just till Sunday night. I said she didn’t have to but–’ She grinned. ‘It will be really great to see her. And all be together for a family dinner. Even Joe is looking forward to it.’
‘I’m not.’ Joe didn’t look up from the end of the table where he was tapping on an iPad. ‘Can I go now? I’m playing Sam at half eight.’
‘Only for an hour,’ Charlotte said. ‘You’ve still got school tomorrow, remember.’
Joe rolled his eyes. ‘Oh I’d completely forgotten. Though there’s no point going on Fridays – we don’t do anything.’
‘Funny that! My copy of your timetable says double maths …’
Charlotte pulled him towards her as he started to walk away, giving him a noisy kiss. ‘Love you!’ she said loudly. Joe gave a small, embarrassed shrug. ‘All right mum.’
‘Poor boy!’ Fay laughed. ‘All these females clogging up his kitchen.’
‘Helen and Marie will be here in a minute too.’ Charlotte was getting another bottle from the fridge. ‘Told them to pop in for a quick one after Rumba or Zumba or whatever it is they do.’ Charlotte shook her head as if whatever it was, it was not to be recommended. ‘Cheers – here’s to the Big Five-O!’
Roger put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her before looking round. ‘Who needs another drink?’
Fay watched Roger as he moved around the kitchen, topping up glasses. He did not look like a man with a guilty conscience. He smiled at Charlotte as if he loved her to bits, and seemed perfectly at ease. She hadn’t seen him look at his phone once.
‘How’s work?’ she asked, when she’d taken the opportunity to manoeuvre him into a corner.
‘Busy!’
‘Still empire building?’
Roger smiled and made a gesture of collapsing with exhaustion. ‘One last acquisition to tie up – for the moment! It’s the smallest firm we’ve bought, by a long chalk, but they’re making it more complicated than all the others put together.’
Roger shook his head. ‘The contract’s the size of the Magna Carta and they’ve got me running back and forth there constantly. It’s a tiny two-pot financial advisor set-up. I’d have walked away by now – but one of the senior partners is keen. Think there’s something going on under the old-pals act. Probably went to Oxford with the MD …’
‘Where are they based then?’ Fay asked, sipping her champagne.
‘Back end of Maidstone.’
Fay smiled at him. ‘Ah, I remember we did a relocation for a big nursing home there – was a right bloody nightmare. Took about three days. The Matron was a right dragon who messed my blokes about a treat. I had to go up in the end – we used to go in this tatty old hotel – the Wealdstone was it? – to eat. Don’t know if it’s still there …’
‘Yes – it’s being refurbished. I was there the other week.’
‘How funny,’ said Fay.
She had considered coming straight out with it – which was her preferred way of doing things – and simply telling Roger that Charlotte had noticed he’d been going AWOL and so if he was up to anything, he’d better put an end to it double damn quick. Or he’d have her to answer to, let alone his wife.
But Charlotte would be furious if she did that and this more subtle approach was working. Roger had volunteered he’d been to the hotel Charlotte had found the receipt for – which seemed to indicate that particular visit was above board. Fay was surprised at the depth of her relief.
She opened her mouth to try to
casually find out what he’d been doing there – a meeting? A business lunch? – but as she began to form the words, the doorbell rang and Roger excused himself with what Fay tried not to interpret as indecent haste, and bounded off to answer it.
Marie and Helen were friends of Charlotte’s from the days when she worked at the estate agency Wainwright’s. Fay had met them a couple of times before and found them annoying. As usual, they spent the evening standing together like a couple of Siamese twins, taking turns to regale Charlotte with the marital woes of various of her ex-colleagues.
Fay, helping herself to some more of the cream cheese roulade and breaking off a piece of what tasted like genuine made-in-France French bread, couldn’t have cared less that someone called Janine had lost a stone since she’d found out Gareth was leaving her for the woman who groomed their dog, but it had sent Charlotte into high dudgeon.
‘Bastard!’ she said loudly. ‘They’re all the bloody same.’
‘Well that may be a tad sweeping,’ Roz was trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. ‘Hey Sherie – you haven’t told me about your date the other night? Was he as good as he looked?’
Roz left Fay persuading Charlotte to have something to eat and hurried after Sherie. She waited till she emerged from the downstairs loo.
‘What’s the matter?’ Roz scanned Sherie’s face. She’d clearly applied more make-up but her eyes still looked pink. ‘Nothing happened, did it?’
‘Oh no – I’m sorry. I’m just tired and–’ she gave a weak smile. ‘Emotional. Birthdays do that to me sometimes. I’ve probably had too much champagne.’
Roz frowned. ‘So what did happen on the date?’
‘He was fine – he was charming and interested. And he even came back for coffee–’
‘And?’
‘I don’t know. He asked me to go out again, but I’m not going to–’
‘Why not?’
Sherie looked at Roz. ‘He seemed a bit too keen …’
‘Oh Sherie, for heaven’s sake.’ Roz knew she sounded exasperated. ‘They can’t win with you! What do you want?’
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