“Why on earth are you sleeping with me then?” A hot spike of jealousy stabs through Gareth.
“Why are you sleeping with me? It’s very obvious that you and Rachel are happily married. Why cheat on her with me?”
“I…I really don’t know the answer to that. I’ve never been unfaithful before. You’re the only woman I’ve met since Rachel that I‘ve fancied. And I just can’t stop thinking about you. Not for one second.”
“Well for the next few hours, please remember that nothing at all is going on between us.”
Chapter 24
Cassandra pulls up outside a house. It’s another period property, this one very large, in immaculate condition. It has a turret along one side, three round rooms on top of each other with curved bay windows. The windows get smaller the higher the storey, and the top floor looks like it is wearing a pointy tin hat. There is a porch that wraps around three sides of the ground floor and Gareth spots a wooden swing seat at one end. The lawn at the front is beautifully kept and there’s a sprinkler twirling on it, spitting water evenly across the green of the lawn and catching rainbows in the evening sunshine.
“Beautiful house,” he says to Cassandra. He swallows down the next sentence that comes into his head. Rachel would love that house.
“Thanks,” Cassandra replies and beeps her horn.
Gareth watches as a tall lady comes out the door and makes her way to the car. She has blonde hair, cropped short and has a pair of overlarge white sunglasses stuck on top of her head. She is wearing a pale pink blouse, ruffled around the neck, white, wide legged trousers cropped to the ankle and high heeled strappy shoes. Around her neck is a string of enormous pale pink pearls, like sherbet bonbons.
“Good evening,” the woman says as she gets in the car. She has a low, deep voice, like she might once have been a twenty-a-day smoker. “Delighted to meet you at last, Gareth. Cassandra tells me you are doing sterling work on behalf of our company.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Beverley.”
“I’m very much looking forward to this evening. I don’t get out as much as I used to. It’s going to be fun.”
Probably the most bizarre part of the evening is that it does indeed turn out to be fun.
Liam and Eloise have as instructed made champagne cocktails for their arrival.
“Gosh, these are good,” Gareth says, draining half a glass in one go. “What’s in them?’
“It’s a sugar cube soaked in brandy with a drop of angostura bitters and topped up with champagne,” Eloise explains.
“These were my mother’s absolute favourite,” Beverley says in her mellow tones. “She always said champagne cocktails were the very best way to get a party started. And I’ve started a lot of parties in my time, let me tell you.” She winks at Eloise in an exaggerated fashion.
There are canapés too.
“Don’t tell me you made these Eloise?” Gareth helps himself to a miniature tortilla omelette. The selection includes king prawns and mango chunks on skewers, fragrant with coriander, miniature hamburgers and duck won tons.
“Did I heck, Dad. A man in a van turned up with them about half an hour ago. Cassandra ordered them. If it was down to me you wouldn’t even have had a bowl of Pringles, you know that.”
“Have you settled in?” Beverley asks her.
“Really quickly. The apartment is just so lovely. We went for a long walk this afternoon and checked out the area, loads of great bars and coffee houses and independent shops. We’re very lucky to have this opportunity to live and work in Canada for a while. And the weather’s amazing here, too. Thank you very much.”
“Not at all. I’m delighted you like it. This was my first ever apartment, you know. I lived here for quite a few years. I loved being up here on the top floor and looking out over the tops of the trees, especially in the Fall, when all the leaves on the trees turn the most glorious shade of orange. I couldn’t bring myself to sell it when I moved on to something bigger. Cassandra looks after it now and always makes sure that only people worthy of it get to live in it.”
“Do you know anything about the artwork then?” Eloise asks. “Liam spent ages before you arrived, looking at it all.”
“I love it,” Liam explains. “But I don’t recognise any of it. I really like the style. And the colours. They’re loud and they make you look at the landscapes in a different way.”
“I’m so glad,” Beverley beams. “It’s a very well known style in Canada. They’re all prints of paintings by the Group of Seven or the Canadian Group of Painters. They were active in the 1920’s and 1930’s and are best known for their landscape paintings and their love of nature. They had a very strong influence on Canadian art and on cultivating Canadian artistic expression. I’ve collected them since I was very young and have a number of originals at home.”
“And who is this lady?” Eloise asks. “It’s the only photograph amongst all the landscapes. She’s got such a lovely smile.”
“That’s Isabel McLaughlin. She was a painter and a former president of the Canadian Group of Painters and also an executive member of the Heliconian Club. That was a club set up for female musicians and painters because they were excluded from joining arts clubs for men. It’s still going strong to this day. Some of my favourite paintings hanging here are by Isabel McLaughlin. This is a print of one of hers that I am very proud to have the original of at home.” Beverley points out a painting of a garden of white flowers with hedges painted in a luscious, shiny green. “When I look at it, I can almost smell the perfume of the gardenias.”
Gareth watches Beverley as she talks. She looks younger than her late fifties, slim and elegant, her blonde hair shot through with caramel highlights. Only her hands, which she waves around a lot when she talks animatedly about the art that she clearly loves so much, show her age. Despite the beautifully manicured nails, the backs of her hands are marked with age spots.
“I’ll have to google all this later,” Liam says.
“Well if you like the paintings, you should go visit the Art Gallery of Ontario while you are here. They have a fabulous collection from the Group of Seven. Or better still, get yourself up to the McMichael Canadian Art Collection in Kleinburg. Amazing. Can you drive? You are welcome to borrow my car to go there.”
“Don’t let Beverley bore you too much talking about art,” Cassandra interjects. “She can go on about it for hours and hours if you let her.”
“Cassandra is a complete philistine when it comes to art, Liam,” Beverley says, mock wearily. “If you can’t wear it, she’s not interested in it.”
“Not entirely true,’ Cassandra says, laying her hand on Beverley’s arm for a second, “but not far off.”
Jealousy flashes through Gareth again and he drains the rest of his second cocktail.
“Gosh, you’re a thirsty lot you Welsh.” Beverley laughs. “You’d better rustle up a few more cocktails, Cassandra for those that aren’t driving later.”
“Coming up! Eloise, Liam, come help me. Just one more each. We don’t want you hungover for your first day of work!”
There is an awkward silence between Gareth and Beverley, but she moves quickly to break it.
“Is this your first time in Canada, Gareth?”
“I came here once before, on a rugby tour when I was in school. It was 30 years ago so I don’t think it really counts. I’m paying attention this time!”
“That’s good to hear. How do you find the Royal York?”
Gareth’s blood freezes for a second. Does Beverley suspect something?
“Cassandra said her PA had booked you in there. At Perfect, we think it’s the best hotel in Toronto and we always recommend it to people visiting us. Iconic and historic. And also really central and close to our office too. ”
Gareth regains his composure. “It’s excellent, thank you. Great location.”
“Are things progressing as you would hope on the factory in Wales?”
“They are. There’s a lot to do
yet, but it is going to plan so far.”
“I hope to come to Wales some day and see it in operation. I’m very excited about it all. It means a great deal to us as a company. Ooh look, more champagne cocktails.”
“Here you go,” Cassandra passes them round. “There wasn’t enough time to let the sugar cubes dissolve in the brandy so I had to crush them up a bit with a spoon.”
“My mother would not have been impressed.” Beverley is teasing.
“I knew you’d say that! Tastes just as good though. Drink up, all!”
Before these cocktails are finished, Beverley, who suddenly looks very tired, brings the evening to a close.
“I’ve had a very enjoyable evening, thank you all so much, but to my mind champagne cocktails are like boobs. Two is the most a girl really needs. Eloise, I’d like to mentor you during your internship, if that’s OK with you.”
“That would be completely awesome,” Eloise gushes.
“Good, we’ll have fun. I’ll take you for lunch to the Heliconian one day, too.”
“Do you want a lift back to your hotel?’ Cassandra asks Gareth. “I can drop you off on the way?”
“Could I walk it from here?”
“Well yes, but it’ll take you at least thirty minutes.”
“Then I’ll walk, I think. It’s still quite early and I could do with some fresh air, now that it’s cooled down a bit.”
“Stay and have another drink with us Gareth?” Liam’s invitation is polite but Gareth spots the look of horror on Eloise’s face.
“Thanks, but I’ll be on my way. Good luck tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Dad…” Eloise kisses him good bye. “And thanks very much again Beverley and Cassandra.”
The three of them walk out of the apartment together and make their way down the stairs. Bev walks down the steep stairs in her high heels a little gingerly and instinctively, without thinking, Gareth holds out the crook of his arm to her and she takes it. He walks her to the car.
“You’re a gentleman,” she says, climbing into the car. “There’s not many of those around these days. Goodnight.”
Cassandra shuts the passenger door and walks round to the driver side.
“What are the arrangements for tomorrow?” Gareth asks her.
“Can you come to Perfect’s offices for about 12pm? No need to come earlier than that. I have a pile of things on my desk I need to sort out first.”
Gareth nods. “I’ll be there.”
“OK, see you tomorrow then. Goodnight.”
She gets in the car and she and Beverley drive away. As they pass him, Gareth lifts his arm and waves to them.
Gareth plugs the hotel address into his phone and asks it for directions. He walks fast, wishing he had his running gear and could run instead. Run away from himself and how he feels: jealous and ashamed of himself but more than anything longing for Cassandra.
*
Eloise is watching from the living room window. “Off he goes. Thank God. I thought for a second he was going to take you up in your offer and stay for another drink. What on earth were you thinking! Those cocktail things are so strong and he had at least three. One more of them and he might have ended up kipping on the sofa. With you!”
“I meant it when I said I’d sleep out here if you’d prefer it.”
“I wouldn’t. Prefer it, that is.”
“Come on then,” he says, reaching his hand out for her to take. “Let’s go to bed.”
In the end it is Eloise who pushes the pace for them to have sex that night. It is she who fumbles around in her toiletry bag for a condom.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“It’s a big deal, your first time. It needs to be special.”
“We’re in Toronto, in a beautiful place we get to call our own for a month, no one can walk in on us, and I’m tiddly on champagne. It couldn’t be more special.”
“It could be more special.”
“No it couldn’t.”
“For fuck’s sake El, stop arguing with me. Yes it could.” He pauses for a second and makes her look at him. “I love you, Eloise.”
“Oh. I wasn’t expecting that. Say it again.”
“I love you, Eloise.”
“I love you too. You’re right, actually, that does make it more special.”
*
As Gareth approaches the hotel entrance, Cassandra rings him.
“You OK?” She is speaking very quietly.
“Are you having to whisper because Beverley is asleep in bed next to you?”
“Of course not. She and I don’t sleep in the same bed. Are you at the hotel yet?”
“Almost, I think.”
“Was that as awful as you thought?”
“Only for as long as I didn’t stop to think about what the hell I am doing. Beverley’s a nice lady, warm and generous. I’m being a shit to her.”
“Its me that’s being a shit to her actually. You’re being a shit to Rachel.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“Nor me.”
“What are we playing at Cassandra? This is so selfish and destructive. And plain madness. You know I’ve no reason to be in Toronto, don’t you? Everything I need to do on the documents, I’d already done before coming here. I’m completely neglecting my work and my children and my marriage. I ought to go home as soon as possible.”
“You can’t! Not yet. I need more time with you. I can’t give you up just yet.”
“The more we do this, the worse it’s going to get.”
“I know. We should stop. Call a halt to it right now.”
“I think that would be the best thing for both of us.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“No. This whole walk home while I’ve been trying to tell myself how we need to stop doing this, all I’ve been able to think about is how much I can’t wait to see you again.”
“Good. Look over to your left.”
When Gareth looks up, he sees that Cassandra is standing next to the hotel’s doors.
She doesn’t end the call. “Want me to leave?”
“No. No I don’t.”
*
When he wakes up, Cassandra has already left. There’s a note on the bedside table.
Left at 5am. You were dead to the world and I needed to get home before Beverley woke up. Come to our office by 12pm. You’re doing a presentation to the non-executive directors about the Welsh factory project.
Gareth’s entire body feels leaden with fatigue from too many champagne cocktails and jet lag and too much sex. It’s impossible to tell what time it is because the hotel’s thick curtains block out the light. When he checks his phone he sees it is already 10 am and that Rachel has already rung him twice.
He listens to the voicemail she has left. She sounds annoyed.
Hi, it’s me. Just wanted to know how you are all are. We’re all fine here, just about. My mother and Felix are arriving later and it’ll be bloody hard work keeping them fed and watered, as you know. Not that it’s your problem out there in Toronto. Where no doubt the sun is shining. It’s grey skies here. Call me please.
He takes a deep breath and calls her back.
“Hi,” she answers.
“Hi. How are you?”
“Fine, I guess, considering it’s the school holidays and I’m managing a full time job and all the kids, all on my own,” she answers, in a snippy voice.
“Don’t be like that Rachel. You’re not on your own are you? You’ve got Karen, and Grace to help too. And your mother will want to spend some time with the children while she’s there.”
“You’d think so wouldn’t you, but she’s already informed me she wants to go to Cowbridge shopping one day because she likes all the swishy fashion shops there and she and Felix have tickets booked for the Welsh National Opera one evening and they’re going to the James Sommerin restaurant one evening for the seven course tasting menu because she read all about
him in the Good Food Guide. She’s not really coming to see us you know, she’s coming for a holiday.”
“Well she’s company at least.”
Gareth can hear Rachel breathing in annoyance at him down the phone. He changes the subject.
“Eloise and Liam have got a lovely apartment.”
“I know I’ve seen it.”
“You’ve seen it? How?”
“Our daughter was up and about this morning far earlier than you. She showed the apartment to me on Facetime, turned the phone round and walked me through the rooms. Looks really lovely.”
“Ah yes, Facetime. Haven’t got the hang of that.”
“I don’t like it. I could see my own face and it just looked tired and droopy.” She pauses. “You’re meant to say I’m not tired and droopy at this point, Gareth.”
“You’re not old and tired my love, you’re gorgeous of course.”
“I’ve got to go, I need to finish work early to pick Mum and Felix up from the airport. I don’t like them being here and you and Eloise being away. I feel grumpy and put upon. I’m sorry but I’m hanging up now because this conversation is pissing me off. Goodbye.”
Gareth sits on the edge of the bed for a while, not certain what to do. He should really book a flight and go straight home, that very day if possible. At the very least he should ring Rachel back and try to lighten the load on her somehow or make her feel better. But all he does is get in the shower quickly before walking over to Perfect’s offices.
The high glass fronted office block, the top three floors of which Perfect occupies, has a fantastic view over the waterfront and over to Toronto Islands. Gareth delivers the required presentation to the board members. He is amused to be served coffee by his own daughter, who pretends she doesn’t know him.
“Thank you for that,” Beverley says to him afterwards. “It was a fantastic presentation. Your enthusiasm really helped to get our message over to the board.”
“It’s easy to be enthusiastic about such a great project.”
Thicker Than Water Page 23