Sleeping Arrangements

by Madeleine Wickham

  ‘I’ve got the supplies,’ she announced, taking her rucksack off her back. ‘Bread and cheese … and some more wine from Gerard’s cellar. We could go back to the terrace and eat it there … or we could have a picnic.’

  ‘Picnic,’ said Chloe after a pause, and looked at Amanda, who nodded.

  ‘Picnic.’

  Jenna laid the food out on the ground and the others gathered round hungrily. For a few minutes, there was little conversation. They must all be ravenous, thought Chloe, looking around at the silent, munching faces. Or perhaps it’s just that eating is easier to deal with than talking.

  After the food was finished they sat drinking wine, talking little, letting the sky darken slowly around them. Above the silhouetted roof of the villa, birds circled and swooped against the sky. The air was still and warm and quiet.

  ‘Is there some more wine?’ said Amanda eventually, looking up. Her words were very slightly blurred and her head was drooping slightly. ‘I seem to have finished mine.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Jenna, passing over a bottle. ‘And, since it’s the last night and all …’

  She reached in her pocket and, after a pause, produced two ready-rolled joints. Sam’s head jerked up in shock; the others stared at Jenna in dazed astonishment.

  ‘Jenna!’ said Amanda sharply. ‘Is that—’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ said Jenna cheerily. ‘I reckon we all need it.’

  She offered one to Amanda, who was silent for a moment.

  ‘Are the girls asleep?’

  ‘Fast off,’ said Jenna, glancing in their direction.

  ‘OK then.’ Without a flicker, Amanda reached for the joint. ‘This is what happens when unemployment hits,’ she said, staring morosely at it. ‘You turn to drugs and alcohol for solace.’ She looked at Hugh. ‘I expect we’ll be shooting up heroin before the year is out. Eating cheap burgers and dying of heart failure.’

  ‘I’m not sure things are quite as bad as that …’ said Hugh.

  ‘No?’ She took a drag, closed her eyes and slowly breathed out. She took another, then looked at Chloe.

  ‘You want some?’

  ‘Well …’ said Chloe, trying to hide her discomposure.

  ‘Go on, Mum,’ said Sam. ‘It won’t corrupt me, honest. And I won’t tell Nat.’

  ‘Well,’ said Chloe again. She hesitated, then took the joint and inhaled on it. She pulled a face, and coughed a little. ‘Out of practice,’ she said, and passed it to Hugh, who took it gingerly.

  ‘I’ve never taken drugs,’ he said, staring suspiciously at it. ‘I don’t approve. What if it’s spiked with something?’

  ‘You’ll be on smack soon,’ said Amanda, looking up from her wine glass. ‘So it hardly matters.’

  Chloe watched as Hugh took a cautious puff on the joint and felt a pang of affection for him.

  ‘Hugh,’ she said abruptly. ‘I’m sorry for everything I said. Out there by the swimming pool.’ She flushed slightly. ‘I was unfair. I know you did your best to save Philip’s job. And Amanda …’ She turned her head. ‘I apologize to you, too. I was …’ She hesitated. ‘A bit wound up.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Amanda, waving a hand vaguely in the air. ‘Doesn’t matter at all.’ She gave Chloe a vague smile, which suddenly turned into a huge yawn.

  ‘Right,’ said Jenna, surveying the four of them. ‘Everyone settled? Everyone sorted?’

  ‘Great, thanks,’ said Philip, waving the joint at her. ‘Very good idea, to come out here.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jenna, giving him a quizzical look. She reached for Sam’s hand. ‘Come on, you. Sam and I are going to love you and leave you,’ she announced to the others. ‘We’ll be sleeping over there.’ She pointed. ‘On the other side of the field.’

  ‘Right,’ said Philip after a pause. ‘Well … fair enough.’

  ‘Oh, and we’ll be having sex,’ added Jenna, ‘so please don’t get the idea of coming over for a chat.’

  Beside her, Sam stiffened in disbelief. He glanced at Chloe, who opened her mouth to speak—and then closed it again.

  ‘Joke,’ said Jenna, and surveyed the astonished faces with a happy grin. ‘Or not. Sleep well, everyone.’

  A few minutes after Jenna and Sam had disappeared off into the darkness, Amanda went over to check on the children, a few yards away. She leaned over Octavia, gave another yawn, and sat down heavily on the ground; a moment later she flopped back, fast asleep. Hugh stood up, carried a duvet to her unconscious form, and gently spread it over her, giving her a soft goodnight kiss.

  As he returned to the others, Philip poured himself another glass of wine and took a few sips. Then he, too, began to yawn.

  ‘I feel zonked,’ he murmured as he settled down to sleep.

  ‘Relaxed,’ replied Chloe. She bent over and kissed him gently. ‘Relaxed is what you feel.’

  He closed his eyes, and she sat back on her heels. Looking up, she saw Hugh gazing at her. He took a sip of wine, and another, then glanced at Philip’s face. He was waiting, Chloe saw, for Philip to fall asleep.

  Suddenly she realized she was, too. Silently she replenished Hugh’s glass, and her own. She took a sip, and stared up at the stars.

  ‘I’m not tired,’ said Hugh in low, conversational tones.

  ‘No,’ she replied after a pause. ‘I’m not really, either.’

  They both glanced at Philip. His breathing was steadier now. His eyes were firmly closed.

  ‘Hugh …’ said Chloe softly.

  ‘Chloe?’ murmured Philip, stirring, frowning a little.

  Chloe held her breath and watched as Philip’s face relaxed again. She had a vivid flashback to all those nights she’d spent waiting for the baby to drop off. Standing in the nursery darkness, scarcely daring to breathe, then creeping out noiselessly, unnoticed. It had always seemed like a tiny act of betrayal. As this was.

  The minutes ticked by. A small animal scuffled briefly in the undergrowth; from the road came the distant sound of someone softly laughing. Chloe’s eyes were on Hugh’s, watching and waiting. Finally she judged they had waited long enough.

  ‘So,’ she said, and glanced at Philip. He didn’t murmur, didn’t stir.

  ‘So,’ said Hugh. He shifted slightly on the ground, with a rustle of dry twigs. ‘You’re really going to leave tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Chloe. ‘I think everything comes to its natural end. Don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Hugh. ‘I suppose it does.’

  For a moment there was silence. A thousand sentences formed themselves in Chloe’s mind and died away again.

  ‘There’s no point staying,’ she said at last. ‘And I have no desire to see Gerard. Do you?’

  ‘Not particularly.’ Hugh reached for his wine glass, looked at it, and put it down again. ‘Chloe, I have something to tell you about Gerard. He didn’t know about … about us.’

  Chloe’s brow wrinkled in a frown.

  ‘What do you mean? Of course he knew about us! That was the whole point. That was why …’ She tailed away as Hugh shook his head.

  ‘We just assumed he knew. Did you ever actually tell him? Because I never did.’ Chloe stared at him, her mind working.

  ‘I must have done. I must have …’ She rested her head in her hands. ‘At least … I thought I had …’

  ‘Gerard arranged this holiday to put me and Philip in an awkward situation,’ said Hugh. ‘And I really think that’s all. The other … factor … was just …’

  ‘I always assumed he knew,’ said Chloe, not looking up. ‘I just took it for granted …’ Hugh leaned forward, his face earnest.

  ‘Chloe, the point is, we weren’t manipulated. We didn’t fall into any trap. We did what we did because … we had to.’ Gently, he touched a wisp of hair falling over her face. ‘We had to find the answers to our questions.’

  Chloe looked up and slowly nodded. For a few moments they sat in silence, the even, regular breathing of the sleepers a backdrop to their thoughts.

>   ‘So, do you feel better toward Gerard now?’ said Hugh eventually. ‘Will you forgive him?’

  ‘No,’ said Chloe, and her face tightened slightly. ‘I’ll never forgive him. I don’t care what he knew, or what he intended. He wanted to play with our lives. That’s enough.’

  She took a sip of wine, put her glass down and leaned back on her elbows, staring up at the inky sky. She was aware of Hugh watching her; of his eyes running over her. The two of them, alone in the night stillness.

  ‘I’ll never stop wondering, you know,’ said Hugh after a while. ‘What could have been. If we’d stayed together, all those years ago. We might have come here to this villa, as husband and wife. With Sam. I might have had Sam as my son.’

  ‘You might,’ said Chloe, moving her head in acknowledgement.

  ‘We might have had six children together.’ Chloe smiled faintly.

  ‘Six! I’m not sure about that.’

  ‘The worst thing is …’ Hugh rubbed his face. ‘The worst thing is, we probably would have become discontented. After a few years. We probably would have lain here in the sun, feeling a little bored, wondering if we did the right thing in marrying each other. Not realizing how bloody lucky we were …’

  His voice had risen a little, and, over by the children, Amanda stirred in her sleep. Hugh stopped speaking and kept quite still. Chloe was motionless, staring at the vast, star-dotted sky. Both waited silently until Amanda had turned over, subsided back into her dreams.

  ‘It’s late,’ said Chloe at last. ‘We should get some rest.’ Hugh stared straight ahead, as though he hadn’t heard her.

  ‘We make so many decisions over a lifetime,’ he said abruptly. ‘Some turn out to be unimportant … and some turn out to be the key to everything. If only we knew their significance at the time. If only we knew what we were throwing away …’

  ‘Hugh, we still are lucky,’ said Chloe gently. She sat up straight, and looked seriously at him. ‘Both of us are lucky. Don’t forget that.’

  ‘I know we are.’ Hugh glanced over at Amanda’s peacefully sleeping face, then leaned over and brushed away a leaf which had landed on her cheek. ‘Amanda and I will be all right. I do love her. And our life together … it works. It’ll work.’

  ‘I hope so,’ said Chloe, following his gaze. ‘I really do.’ As they watched, Amanda turned, and gave a faint snore. Chloe took a sip of wine, hiding a small smile.

  ‘God knows how much she’s put away,’ said Hugh wryly. ‘She’s out for the count.’

  ‘I think Philip’s finally relaxed,’ said Chloe. She looked over at his peaceful face and felt a tender pang. ‘He’ll probably sleep better tonight than he has for months.’

  ‘I expect we all will,’ said Hugh. ‘We deserve to, at any rate …’

  There was a pause, and Chloe gave a sudden yawn. The silent darkness was becoming soporific, she thought, like a warm, soft blanket. She gave another yawn, and smiled shamefacedly at Hugh.

  ‘It’s getting to me, too. I never was much good at late nights.’ She put down her glass and rubbed her eyes. ‘We’ll need to be up early in the morning. If we really are all planning to leave before—’

  ‘Chloe,’ interrupted Hugh quietly. ‘Chloe, we never slept together.’

  She looked up, taken aback. Hugh was gazing at her, his face serious in the moonlight.

  ‘We never slept together,’ he repeated urgently. ‘I want to sleep with you all night long, Chloe. Just once. I want to hold you in my arms and … feel you sleeping with me …’ There was a sheen to his eyes. ‘I want to see what you look like when you wake up.’

  Chloe stared at his fervent face, knowing that she should say no. That she must say no. Then, very slowly, she nodded.

  Silently, they stood up and headed a few feet away from the others. Hugh spread a duvet on the ground. For a few moments they stood, trembling slightly, looking at each other in silence. Hugh took hold of Chloe, not moving his eyes from hers and slowly they sank down to the ground. They curled up together, as they always had. As she felt his arms around her again, Chloe’s face was taut with unshed emotion.

  ‘Good night,’ whispered Hugh, and kissed her forehead.

  ‘Good night.’ Chloe gently touched his cheek, feeling the faint scratch of stubble against her fingers. The roughness against the smooth.

  She lay with her head in the crook of his arm, staring up into the darkness. Trying to stay awake; trying to register every last sensation. This would be her memory. Perhaps one day it would be her solace. But her eyelids soon began to droop. Her mind could no longer fight the tiredness.

  Hugh watched as she drifted into sleep. The last thing he remembered was a smile coming to her lips as she dreamed of something. Then he, too, fell into sleep, holding Chloe tightly to him.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The morning crept pale and bright over the horizon, sending tiny shafts of sunlight into the sleepers’ eyes. Chloe was first to wake, stretching uncomfortably against the uneven surface of the ground, slowly coming into consciousness. Her head was still nestling against Hugh’s shoulder, her hand on his chest, her body warm against his. For as long as she could, she fought against waking up properly. She wanted to prolong this final moment for as long as possible.

  But after a while she could pretend no longer, prolong no longer. She moved her sleepy face backwards and forwards against his shirt, trying to rub the consciousness in, to force herself back into the real world. As she opened her bleary, bloodshot eyes, Hugh stirred. His eyes opened a chink and he stared straight at her, his eyes full of a sleepy love.

  ‘Yes,’ he said indistinctly. ‘I knew it.’ Then his eyes closed and he was asleep again.

  Shielding her eyes from the brightness all around, Chloe rolled over, onto the ground beside him. She lay quite still, listening to the sound of a nearby cicada, mustering her energy. Then she opened her eyes and looked straight up into the blueness.

  She felt pinned to the ground. The sky was no longer a conspiratorial veil of darkness, but a huge blue eye watching her and Hugh. Her and Hugh, sleeping together, in the open air. Chloe felt a ridiculous beat of alarm and turned her head to reassure herself. Immediately she felt a fresh, more urgent jolt of fear. Beatrice Stratton was sitting up, wide awake, watching her with mild curiosity.

  Flushing slightly, Chloe stood up, trying not to rush, and walked over to a patch of unoccupied duvet. She sat down, reclining on her elbows, trying to establish a lived-in look, as though she had been there all along.

  A moment later, Amanda stirred.

  ‘God, my head,’ she groaned, and struggled to a sitting position. She opened her eyes and winced. ‘God, it’s bright.’

  ‘Morning,’ Chloe said casually. ‘Sleep all right?’

  ‘OK, I suppose.’ Amanda rubbed her face blearily. ‘How much did I drink last night?’

  ‘Mummy?’ said Beatrice.

  ‘What?’ said Amanda. She focused on Beatrice with visible difficulty. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Why was she sleeping next to Daddy?’ Beatrice pointed at Chloe.

  Amanda stared blankly back at Beatrice.

  ‘Because there’s been a flood in the house,’ said Chloe, her heart beating fast. She forced herself to smile brightly at Beatrice. ‘I know it seems very strange, us all sleeping together like this … I shouldn’t think you’ve ever slept outside before, have you?’

  She glanced swiftly at Amanda, prepared to amend or supplement her explanation, even change it altogether. But Amanda was now staring at the ground and didn’t seem to be listening at all. Beatrice was frowning, puzzled.

  ‘But—’

  ‘What do you think you’ll have for breakfast, Beatrice?’ said Chloe quickly. She looked around for further distraction. ‘Oh look, there’s Jenna coming!’

  ‘And Sam,’ said Beatrice.

  ‘Yes,’ Chloe said more slowly. ‘And Sam.’

  She watched as Sam sauntered across the field towards her, trying his best to look cool
and nonchalant. But there was a glow to his face which he couldn’t begin to suppress. Jenna, Chloe noticed, looked pretty pleased with herself, too.

  ‘Morning,’ she said, attempting a tone which was friendly yet not entirely approving.

  ‘Morning, Chloe,’ said Jenna, and grinned widely at her. ‘Sleep well?’

  ‘Yes, thanks,’ said Chloe. ‘And you?’ Immediately she wished she hadn’t asked. The last thing she felt like hearing was some smutty, suggestive reply. But thankfully Jenna merely grinned even more widely, nodded, and disappeared off towards the house, Sam in happy tow.

  ‘So you’re off, are you?’ said Amanda, pressing her fingers to her temples.

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ said Chloe. ‘How about you?’ Amanda shrugged.

  ‘Hugh seems to want to leave straight away. Personally, I think it’s fine here, but I suppose we’ll do what he wants …’ She opened her eyes and stared up at the translucent blue sky. ‘Is it my imagination, or is it hotter today?’

  There was a rustling sound, and Hugh sat up, his face bleary and confused, his hair rumpled.

  ‘Morning, darling,’ he said to Amanda. His gaze shifted to Chloe. Morning,’ he said casually.

  ‘Morning,’ she replied. She met his eyes briefly, then stood up. ‘I’d better get going. There’s a lot to do.’

  It was mid-morning before they had mopped up every drop of water, packed up every belonging, and assembled the cases on the landing. Amanda and Jenna gathered all the children and took them downstairs for a drink, while Chloe peered under the beds for stray belongings. Eventually, as her head began to spin, she gave up. What was lost would have to remain lost. Wiping her brow, she sat down on a suitcase, then looked up as Philip approached. He was holding a screwdriver and wearing a pleased expression.

  ‘There,’ he said. ‘I think I’ve sorted out that fuse.’

  ‘Really?’ said Chloe. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Well, the air conditioning’s working again. I’ve written a note for the maid, just to be on the safe side. And I guess we should leave an explanation for Gerard.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Chloe. ‘I guess we should.’