by Adele Parks
Ted turned the page and paused at the photo where Mia and Kate had laughed over their hairstyles. He knew that Mia was considered the beauty of the pair and Kate thought of as the more dowdy one, and he admitted the hair ‘dos’ did seem a little extraordinary now, but when he looked at the photo all he could see was Kate’s beauty. Kate had such stunning eyes. Eyes with soul, which radiated kindness, warmth and intelligence. Eyes which made her far more beautiful than any treatment in a spa could make any woman. He knew that she didn’t like her pale skin which tended to burn rather than bronze, and he knew that she didn’t appreciate her curvy, sensual plumpness, although she ought to. To him, Kate was the more stunning woman in the picture.
She was the most stunning woman he knew.
And while she looked amazing back then, it was his firm opinion that she had only become more delicious as time had passed. Was there a man alive who didn’t believe his wife was divine during childbirth? Fat, yes. Sweaty, yes. Bloody, yes. But undoubtedly a goddess.
Ted stared at the slightly trimmer, slightly darker-haired version of himself and asked the young lad if he knew how it had all gone so badly wrong? Ted felt he’d let the young chap in the photo down, rather terribly. The young Ted had the respect of the lovely Kate. He’d earned it by being courteous, studious, funny and decent. The young Kate had stared at him with eyes which were kind, warm and intelligent, true, but she’d also looked at him and sensibly weighed up his prospects. Prospects that had been shimmering. The young Ted was stuffed full of promise, opportunity and good fortune. Big Ted barely recognized him.
Ted looked up and caught Kate’s eye. She was watching him study the photos. She noticed that Ted was very pink and sweating. She watched as he pulled out his Paul Smith handkerchief and dabbed his forehead, chin and eyes. Ted thought Kate looked more cross than kind. Rather more irritated than warm, and certainly more confused than intelligent. He’d done that to her. It was his fault. How was he ever going to tell her? He knew he must. If it were possible, he would live with the charade for ever – at least that way he’d keep his Kate. But it was not possible.
Although he’d switched his mobile off throughout the day, tonight he’d forced himself to listen to the increasingly irate messages left by his bank manager. While Kate had showered, he heard that the bank manager was demanding a meeting, no doubt to ask him to hand over the keys to their home. All cards had been withdrawn, both debit and credit. The situation was critical. He knew it would be a very short time before Kate’s eyes shone with derision and scorn.
Oh, God, where had it all gone so badly wrong?
46. The Bar Scene
‘Ted, why are you being so maudlin? Get the drinks in, bruv. You’ll feel better,’ Jayne instructed.
Ted had been silent throughout dinner. He had pored over those stupid photos that everyone other than her seemed to derive so much pleasure from, but he’d said very little. Jayne couldn’t imagine that he was upset because the photos showed how much weight both he and Kate had put on. Neither of them looked well now compared to their more youthful image. Whereas, on the whole, time had been kind to everyone else. But Ted wasn’t the sort to be bothered by such things. It was possible that he was still in pain from his ankle, although he said not, and he had been out on the slopes today. Jayne could only imagine something dull, domestic and probably very minor had gone wrong. Wasn’t Fleur taking a flute or piano exam, or something or other? Perhaps she hadn’t fared as well as Ted had hoped she would. Ted and Kate were horribly ambitious for their children. That was just the sort of crisis her big brother had to deal with.
Jayne didn’t bother enquiring whether her guess was correct and whether a failed music exam, grade I, was the issue. She didn’t know how she’d fake interest in Ted’s response. Her brother was a lovely man, and normally she had a lot of time for him and his family, but, really, they didn’t know when they were well off.
She had very pressing issues of her own. She was desperate for some more champagne. The single bottle at dinner hadn’t gone far (how typical that Lloyd wouldn’t stretch to a second one). Admittedly, the wine at dinner had been good. She’d drunk plenty, almost too much. She normally avoided red wine – it stained her teeth and besides which it brought her down. Red wine wasn’t a party drink, and Jayne wanted to party. She oscillated between feeling nervy and excited, pessimistic and expectant. Why hadn’t Rich said or done anything about finishing with Tash yet? And why was Tash giggling and kissing Rich, smooching up to him despite Jayne’s conversations. On the other hand, Rich didn’t look exactly comfortable. Maybe he was just waiting for his moment.
Jayne didn’t know how to fill her evening. It wasn’t possible to flirt with Jase any more, and he’d made that patently clear. He’d been very monosyllabic with her all evening, almost rude. He’d spent his entire evening deep in conversation with Mia. Mia must have told him that she caught Rich and Jayne in a clinch. Or possibly Rich had come clean with Jason – they were, after all, best friends. Maybe Rich had admitted that he was in love with Jayne. Jase would have backed off immediately then. It was an encouraging thought. Jayne allowed the optimistic side of the pan scales to rise again. She felt like celebrating.
‘Come on, Teddy, how about some champers?’ she asked.
‘Why don’t you get the drinks in? I’ve bought all the drinks since we got here, except for those at dinner tonight, which Lloyd kindly bought. It must be someone else’s round. Yours, perhaps,’ spat back Ted.
The truth of Ted’s statement did nothing to alleviate the embarrassment caused by him making it. There was a thoughtful pause while everyone considered whether they had ever heard him speak so aggressively.
No. No one had.
How odd.
Kate put her hand on Ted’s arm and used her other hand to fish out their platinum Amex. She handed it to the barman and ordered three bottles of Veuve Clicquot. Her gesture was especially flamboyant, as she hoped to detract from Ted’s rudeness.
‘No.’ Ted snatched the card out of the bartender’s hand.
‘Ted, you are making a scene,’ hissed Kate.
‘Believe me, I’m avoiding one,’ he slurred.
‘Maybe we ought to have a kitty?’ suggested Tash.
‘What?’ asked Mia. ‘I don’t think that’s appropriate, Barbie Babe.’ Tash couldn’t see how it was as inappropriate as cadging drinks off Ted all holiday. She stared blankly at Mia. Mia elaborated, ‘It’s not as though we can’t afford to stand our own rounds, and I’ve always thought kitties were so lower middle class.’
Tash glared and was about to point out that no one did stand their own drinks when Jason interrupted. ‘Ted is right, you are a bunch of bloody freeloaders,’ he laughed, in an attempt to break the tension. ‘I’m stacked, I’ll pay.’
Jason would ask for a receipt anyway. Q&A, the agency which paid him his enormous salary, would no doubt see the bar tab on his expense sheet next week.
The bartender took Jase’s card and proceeded to open a bottle of champagne. He hadn’t even poured the second glass before Ted had swallowed back the first.
‘Steady, darling,’ said Kate.
Lloyd was extremely tense. He’d swear he heard the click as the pin was pulled from the grenade. ‘The snow was fantastic today. Best yet, I’d say,’ he offered.
The conversation quickly turned to who took the worst fall and made the best trick that day. With full glasses and the false confidence that they provide, Lloyd, Rich, Jason, Jayne and Tash began to relax into the evening. Mia was drinking water, but still felt buoyant, especially when Scaley Jase (who was drinking steadily and chatting merrily) waved her over to the dance floor. This was her moment.
Kate stayed with Ted and propped up the bar. She was becoming seriously concerned about his behaviour. She wondered if the painkillers the doctors had prescribed after his fall were having an effect on his mood. Perhaps the pharmacy had given Ted the wrong medication. It seemed unlikely, but there had to be an explanation as to w
hy Ted was being so grumpy. Ted was generally a gregarious drunk, but this holiday he had been self-pitying and aggressive by turn. It simply wasn’t like him. He wasn’t being her big, cuddly Ted.
‘What’s the matter, darling?’ asked Kate.
She squeezed his arm and tried to catch his gaze. Ted glared at his empty champagne glass and would not look at his wife. Even the bubbles, normally a guaranteed thrill, a sure sign of good times, tasted flat and empty. Flat like his life, empty like his bank account. The analogy was a little pathetic, but Ted was too drunk to care. He wondered how he could force the descriptors ‘pointless’ and ‘ridiculous’ on to champagne, too, because they fitted his life. He gave up. He was too drunk to hold the train of thought long enough to finesse the analogy. Besides, he’d never been very good with words. He was good with numbers. Always had been.
And now, he was just a has-been.
‘Aren’t you enjoying yourself? Is it Jayne? Don’t worry, she’s fine. She seems to be getting on very well with both Tash and Rich. I honestly don’t think anyone minds that we brought her along.’ Ted didn’t respond. He didn’t seem to know Kate was there. She tugged harder on his arm. ‘Ted, you are scaring me. What’s up? It’s not the children, is it? They’re OK, aren’t they?’ Ted nodded. ‘Why were you mean about the champagne?’
‘I wasn’t mean. I’m just not the bank of fucking England,’ snapped Ted.
‘Ted.’ Kate’s remonstration was low-key. Although Jason, Rich and Lloyd swore as naturally and frequently as they inhaled and exhaled, her husband was usually a little more refined. Kate didn’t like cursing.
‘Do you love me, Kate?’ Ted turned to his wife, his eyes finally meeting hers. Haunted, hunted eyes. Eyes that she didn’t recognize.
‘Of course I do.’ Kate shifted uncomfortably.
What an odd question. Wasn’t it obvious? She looked over her shoulder to see if any of the others were listening. She hated scenes. No one was listening. Instead they were happily quaffing free champagne and dancing. Mia and Jase were arguing over the words of the latest Finlay Quaye track. They really seemed to find it impossible to agree on even the smallest thing, thought Kate. She turned back to Ted. Kate had drunk two glasses of wine at dinner and half a glass of champagne so far, a lot by her standard, and the music was loud so she couldn’t quite catch what Ted was saying. He was very pink. He’d put on a few pounds over Christmas.
‘– uined,’ he yelled.
‘Sorry?’ asked Kate, leaning her ear towards his mouth.
‘Ruined. We’re ruined,’ yelled Ted, finally desperate to be heard.
‘What’s ruined? Ted, stop being obscure. What do you mean?’
‘I’m trying to be very clear.’ He glared at his wife and slowly, with the careful deliberation of a drunk wanting to appear sober, Ted said, ‘We have no money. We have nothing. Only debts. I’ve lost my job.’
Some of his spittle hit Kate’s cheek, then he turned and abruptly left the bar.
47. Alone at Last
‘Where have Ted and Kate gone?’ Tash asked Rich. They’d done with dancing for now and retired to a small table in the corner of the bar.
‘I don’t know. I think they are having some sort of domestic,’ replied Rich with a shrug.
He had enough to worry about without baby-sitting Ted and Kate; he always thought of them as pretty self-reliant. Where was Jayne, for instance? Not far away, he’d bet. He turned to look over his shoulder; Jayne was standing only yards away. She beamed and waved. Rich tried to ignore her. He’d played this all wrong. Well, obviously he had. But Rich meant that he’d played the salvage operation all wrong. He should have asked Jase to keep tabs on Jayne. If Jase had turned on his charm and really worked her, Jayne might have forgotten about Rich. Rich sighed. He knew it was a pipe dream. Jayne was a determined woman, a determined scorned woman, the worst type of determined woman. She wasn’t going to just change her mind. Besides, Jase wouldn’t have anything to do with her now he was aware just how crazy she was. If only Rich had had half the sense.
‘I thought you said that Ted and Kate never had domestics,’ challenged Tash.
Rich had said this. It had been one of the many virtues he had extolled about Kate and Ted’s family life. Besides describing Kate as the ‘perfect mum’, Rich had described the children as the most affable, polite and intelligent he had ever met. Obviously Rich assumed one led to the other, and Tash also hoped that affable, polite, intelligent children were guaranteed if you were a perfect mum. Because that would be fair, wouldn’t it?
But what was a perfect mum?
‘They have both been acting strangely all night,’ she commented, ‘but, then again, everyone has.’ Tash sighed, and took a slurp of beer.
‘What do you mean by that?’ Guilt made Rich’s tone harsher than he planned it to be.
‘Jayne has been a bit odd. I spent this morning with her, and –’
‘What did you do that for?’ he snapped.
‘Lack of alternatives,’ said Tash dryly and pointedly. ‘She was, I don’t know… sulky. I assume that is something to do with Jason, who’s also been quieter than normal.’
Plus Mia had been lovely. She’d been inclusive, funny and chatty, which was all very odd. Tash resisted saying as much.
‘And I think that Ted and Kate are rowing, and whatever they are rowing about Lloyd is privy to, or perhaps even caused,’ speculated Tash. ‘He can’t look Kate in the eye. I had a chat with him. Earlier he said things were a bit tense between Ted and Kate.’
‘I hadn’t noticed,’ confessed Rich. In truth, he was too absorbed with secreting his own drama to have the time, energy or inclination to unearth anyone else’s.
‘I hope it’s nothing serious.’
Rich stared at Tash. Her brow was furrowed with concern. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail. It had been neat and tight at the beginning of the evening and she’d looked sophisticated and sexy. Now the clip had worked loose; bits of hair had escaped. Strands framed her face so that now she looked scruffy and sexy. Rich reached up to tuck a strand behind her ear. She blushed, and he smiled.
‘I bet I look terrible, all sweaty and smudged eye make-up, right?’ she asked.
‘You’re lovely,’ he replied.
And she was.
She was truly lovely to look at, but more than that she was a really lovely person. She was concerned that Kate and Ted were rowing; she’d watched them interacting with Lloyd to try to work out what was going on. She cared about people. She wanted to understand them and help them, and that was lovely.
Shit.
What if she turned the focus of her attention and intuitiveness towards the tension between him, Jayne and Jase? That wouldn’t be lovely. That would be a fucking blood bath. He pulled his hand away from her hair as though he were scorched.
‘I don’t think it’s healthy to obsess and speculate about other people like that. You could be miles off the mark. It’s dangerous.’
‘Dangerous?’ asked Tash, somewhat taken aback by the sudden change in Rich’s tone. She’d been enjoying the sensation of him stroking her face, fiddling with her hair. It had felt calming and intimate. ‘What’s dangerous about saying I think they are rowing?’
‘What did you mean when you said Lloyd was involved? Why are you connecting him to Kate and Ted? What are you suggesting?’
‘Nothing. I’m not suggesting anything.’ Tash met Rich’s irritated accusation with fiery indignation.
‘Next, you’ll be saying that just because Jayne and Jase are acting a bit weird that there is something going on there, and that it’s my fault.’
Fear and booze emboldened Rich and allowed him to drive closely to the truth. He was almost daring Tash to say yes that was exactly what she thought. Then he could confess. And that would be a relief. That was what he wanted. Oh God, no, no. It was the last thing he wanted.
‘Don’t be silly.’ Tash grinned, and stretched across the table to take hold of Rich’s hand. ‘There is so
mething going on between Jase and Jayne, or at least there was. I’m not so sure now. But why would that be your fault?’
Tell her. Tell her, a voice in his head was almost hoarse with screaming. Still he ignored it.
‘Jayne admitted to me that she and Jason fooled around a bit on Sunday night, but this morning Lloyd saw a young blonde number stagger from Jason’s room, so the thing with Jayne is probably all over before it even began. Poor Jayne, she really doesn’t need to be messed around at the moment. It’s making her very cynical. God, Jason is a one, isn’t he? Can’t keep it in his trousers, can he?’
‘I don’t like you gossiping with Lloyd,’ snapped Rich. He drained his beer and signalled to the waiter to bring them two more.
‘You’re joking, right?’
‘No, I’m not. People can get the wrong end of the stick about situations, and that leads to trouble.’
‘Maybe, but in this case the girl left Jason’s room sticky and sordid at seven in the morning. I don’t think there are two ways of interpreting that situation. Why are you being so huffy? I thought you’d be pleased that I’m building relationships with your friends. Swapping confidences.’
‘Swapping gossip, more like.’
Rich had forgotten that only a matter of a few days before he had fantasized that Tash would swap gossip with Mia. Now he wanted everyone to be quiet. To stay still and to say nothing. Until he was married, at least.
The bar was hot and heaving. The dance music blared so loudly that Tash could feel the base beat throb through her body and head, or maybe that was the alcohol. Alcohol always seemed like a good idea at the time and rarely was. Tash massaged her temples. What gossip? What was Rich so touchy about? She didn’t want to allow Jayne’s nonsense to drift into her head and affect her clear thinking, but… well, Jayne had known the gang longer than Tash had. Maybe there was something more to the Mia situation than Rich was letting on. Why else would he be so defensive about her getting close to his friends? Did they know something she didn’t? Was there something between him and Mia? Tash sighed and rubbed her eyes. This train of thought was madness. She felt strung out.