by Susan Lewis
‘Please don’t look at me like that,’ she said kindly, ‘you’re making me feel like an ogre. I told you, the cleaners will sort it out . . .’
‘But what about now?’ the girl said, the uncertainty at last starting to retreat from her eyes. ‘I mean, it’s all over you. Please, come upstairs and let me see if I can sponge some of it out.’
‘But there’s a bathroom right here,’ Kirsten said.
‘I know, but everyone’s using it. I’ve got my own, at the top of the house. I’m Jane, by the way, Tom’s nanny. And I really am so very sorry.’
‘Please, just forget it,’ Kirsten told her. ‘I’ll just go and . . .’ she broke off as they heard raised voices coming from a room to one side of them. The door was slightly ajar so both Jane and Kirsten could hear every word that was being said.
‘I don’t care, Pippa, I don’t want her in the house. I don’t know what the hell got into you, inviting her here, but I want her out. And I want her out now!’
‘Laurence, for God’s sake, be reasonable. How can I just walk up to her and tell her she’s got to go?’
‘If you don’t then I damned well will,’ he raged.
‘But she’s a friend of Zaccheo’s.’
‘Zaccheo isn’t the host at this party, I am. And I don’t want Kirsten Meredith in my house . . .’
‘I don’t see why you’re getting so het up over this. It was all such a long time ago. She’s probably changed . . .’
‘Women like her never change. Now you heard what I said . . .’
‘Oh come on, can’t you at least be generous enough to give her the benefit of the doubt? Everyone’s giving her such a hard time . . .’
‘Pippa, I’m not arguing about this. Now just get her out of here!’
A door slammed in the distance and Kirsten and Jane turned to face one another. Kirsten’s face was ashen, Jane’s was hot with embarrassment.
‘Come on,’ Jane said rapidly pulling herself together, and before Kirsten could object Jane was sweeping her up the stairs.
‘No, no,’ Kirsten protested as they reached the first landing. ‘Let me go. Please, I have to leave . . .’
‘But, you can’t go anywhere with that stain all over you,’ Jane said, her shoulders hunching as she giggled nervously. ‘Come on, we’ll go to my flat.’ She looked into Kirsten’s face and her grey eyes shone with sympathy as she saw the very real distress in Kirsten’s. ‘Oh dear, I’m sorry you had to hear that,’ Jane murmured. ‘It was awful. I’m sure he didn’t mean it . . .’
‘Just let me go, please,’ Kirsten mumbled. ‘It would be better . . . If he finds out you’ve helped me . . .’
‘He won’t find out,’ Jane assured her and wondered whether Kirsten realized how hard she was shaking. So hard in fact it was doubtful she’d even make it up the stairs.
But Kirsten did know, which was why she had no choice then but to go with Jane, for the idea of disgracing herself by collapsing on the stairs was too terrible even to contemplate.
By the time they reached Jane’s flat Kirsten was hardly able to stand. ‘It’s all right,’ she gasped, as they went in through the door. ‘I’ll be fine in a minute. I just need to sit down.’
Holding her by the shoulders Jane led her to a small sofa and gently eased her into it. ‘Is there anything I can do, something I can get you?’ Jane asked, her pale, freckled face taut with concern. ‘You look dreadful.’
‘No, no really. I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve had an attack like this. It’ll pass, I promise.’ But even as Kirsten spoke a welter of huge, dry, racking sobs started to tear through her body. Oh, dear God, not in three years had she had an attack like this, three years! And now here she was right back at the beginning. Vulnerable and frightened and wanting him with the same desperation she had then. But it was an illusion, she tried to tell herself. Just a bad dream come back to haunt her. If she took deep breaths, held herself straight and squeezed her hands tightly, the way she had then, it would go away. Those three years would resurface and come to stand between her and all the hurt.
But it was no good. The indignity, the self-loathing, the desperate humiliation was coming over her in wave after relentless wave. To think that she could have been so stupid as to have come here, to have expected that he might even be pleased to see her filled her with such an excruciating shame it seemed to seep into her every pore.
It was some time before she was aware that Jane was holding her and smoothing her hair, or that she was clutching Jane in a way she only ever had Paul. ‘It’s all right,’ Jane was whispering, ‘let it all out. Just cry, I won’t let you go.’
Embarrassed Kirsten pulled away and started to fumble in her bag for a handkerchief. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said shakily. ‘I guess things just got the better of me, but that’s no excuse to have made such an exhibition of myself.’
Jane dropped to her knees in front of Kirsten and took Kirsten’s hands. ‘You didn’t make an exhibition of yourself,’ she said softly. ‘Anyone would have been hurt to hear themselves spoken about that way, and with everything else that is happening to you . . .’ She trailed off and shrugged self-consciously, but still she held on to Kirsten’s eyes, looking searchingly into them as though it was the most important thing in the world that she should somehow reach Kirsten.
Ordinarily so reticent with strangers Kirsten found herself looking back and wondering what it was in this girl that had not only made her cling to her the way she had a few moments ago, but was now encouraging her to draw down her barriers and let her in. It was bewildering, but it was undeniable. This girl, this almost waiflike child, who she’d known for less than half an hour, really did seem to care. She really did seem to mind about the vicious lies being told about a woman whom the rest of the world wanted only to spurn. Why should that be, Kirsten wondered. What did Jane want from her? Slowly she started to shake her head and as she did Jane smiled and squeezed her hands. There was something in Jane’s eyes then that seemed to reach deep down inside Kirsten as though to touch her very heart.
‘I’ve never experienced a death so close to me, the way you have recently,’ Jane said, ‘so I can’t say I know how you’re feeling. But if you were as close to Mr Fisher as I heard Zaccheo telling Pippa you were then all I can say is that I am truly, truly sorry for what you must be going through. I just wish that there was something I could do to help.’
Kirsten’s heart had tightened with every word Jane uttered. It was as though Paul were speaking to her, as if somehow through this girl he was gently reminding her that it was all right to trust someone. That not everyone wanted to hurt her, and those who did only could if she, Kirsten, allowed them to. ‘Oh, Jane,’ Kirsten laughed through her tears. ‘You have helped. You’ve helped very much. But if Laurence finds out that you’ve brought me up here . . .’
‘I told you, he won’t find out.’ A mischievous twinkle shot to Jane’s eyes. ‘Besides,’ she went on, ‘he and Pippa are forever trying to drum into me that this is my flat where I can entertain my friends, throw parties, have orgies or do whatever I like.’
Kirsten chuckled and using her fingers wiped away her tears. ‘So how many orgies have you had?’ she asked.
‘I have to confess not many,’ Jane sighed forlornly. ‘In fact, none. Nor parties either. Though tonight was supposed to be a party for me. I’m twenty-one today.’
‘You are? Well, happy birthday. How does it feel being twenty-one?’
Jane shrugged. ‘OK.’
‘And where are all your friends? There didn’t seem to be many people your age downstairs.’
‘That,’ Jane said, moving into a sitting position and hugging her knees, ‘is because I don’t really have any friends. I had one once, but she moved to Canada.’
‘But a girl your age should have lots of friends,’ Kirsten protested. ‘And parties. I’m not too sure about the orgies though,’ she added with a smile.
‘No,’ Jane laughed, ‘me neither. I don’t think I�
�m quite, well, worldly enough for that sort of thing.’
‘Have you ever had a boyfriend?’
‘No.’
‘Not even at school?’
‘Uh-huh,’ Jane said, shaking her head. ‘I was too shy or too plain, probably both. Anyway, it didn’t really matter because I didn’t want one.’
‘And now?’
‘No, not really. I expect I might one day, but who knows?’ Suddenly she looked at Kirsten from the corner of her eye. ‘I’ll tell you a secret,’ she said, ‘if you swear you’ll never tell anyone else.’
‘I swear,’ Kirsten said, crossing her hands over her heart.
‘I had a raging mad crush on Laurence for two years. Can you imagine? Two whole years. It was the first crush of my life, in fact the only one. It was agony.’
‘I think I can imagine,’ Kirsten smiled. ‘And now?’
‘Oh, I’m over it now.’
‘But you still don’t have any friends your own age? Why’s that?’
‘I suppose it’s because I don’t go out much,’ Jane answered, tucking her fine brown hair behind her ears. ‘In fact, all in all, you could say that I have a pretty dull life really – at least compared to most people. But I love it. Well, I love Tom, actually.’
‘Laurence’s son? But don’t you want any children of your own?’
‘Oh yes, I’d love some. How about you? Would you like children?’
Kirsten felt her face turn numb. ‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘I’d like them very much.’
There was a short silence then during which they could hear the distant sounds of the party going on downstairs. Kirsten cast her eyes around the little sitting room, noticing that amongst all the cuddly toys and dog-eared paperbacks there were only photographs of Pippa and Laurence – and Tom. She returned her eyes to Jane’s.
‘You really are very beautiful,’ Jane said, shyly.
Kirsten laughed. ‘I suppose I should thank you for that, but I promise you it feels like a curse sometimes. Tell me, Jane, where do your parents live?’
‘South East London.’
‘Are they here tonight?’
Jane shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’
‘God, no,’ Jane laughed. ‘My mother never wanted any children in the first place, though I don’t suppose she’ll ever admit it. My father wanted a son, he’ll admit that all right. In fact when I was growing up you’d have thought I was a boy from the way he treated me. He wanted me to go on to be a great scientist – or at the very least a science master like he is.’ She pulled a face. ‘Can you think of anything more boring? They hate me being a nanny, they think I’m wasting my talent, but as far as I’m aware I don’t have any particular talent so I don’t know what they’re going on about.’
‘Perhaps your talent is with children.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Don’t you ever get lonely?’ Kirsten asked.
‘Yes, but I’m used to it. I was a lonely child.’
‘Mm, me too.’
Jane looked at her in astonishment. ‘I can’t imagine anyone like you could ever be lonely,’ she said, then remembering Paul she hastily added, ‘At least not for long.’
Kirsten sighed. ‘If you only knew the half of it, Jane.’
‘If you want to talk I have the time,’ Jane assured her, then her cheeks flushed at the presumptuousness of her remark.
Kirsten smiled. ‘Perhaps another time,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to spoil your birthday, and besides, it looks like this stain has dried in so there’s no point trying to wash it off now. Maybe I’d better just go home and like I said, send it to the cleaners in the morning.’
‘You will let me pay for it though, won’t you?’
‘Certainly not,’ Kirsten said, standing up. ‘It was an accident and accidents happen.’
‘Then at least let me lend you something of mine to go home in. I mean you can’t go out like that. It looks like someone’s tried to murder you.’
‘Oh Jane,’ Kirsten laughed. ‘I’d never fit into anything of yours, you’re so tiny.’
‘I’m sure I’ll be able to find something,’ Jane said eagerly. ‘It won’t be quite as glamorous as the dress you’re wearing,’ she said, looking back over her shoulder as she walked into her bedroom. ‘In fact it won’t be anything like it at all.’
In the end they managed to fix Kirsten up with a long flared skirt and a baggy sweater to conceal the unfastened waistband.
‘Well, you look a bit like Cinderella after the ball,’ Jane remarked when Kirsten was dressed, ‘but it’ll do.’
Kirsten was watching her closely, fascinated by the sudden spurts of humour and frankness that struggled through the inherent self-consciousness. ‘I guess I’d better post them back to you,’ Kirsten said, her eyes still dancing at Jane’s observation. ‘After what we heard down there in the hall tonight I don’t think it’d be a very good idea for me to show up again.’
Jane shook her head sadly. ‘I really am sorry you heard that,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry, I’ve heard a lot worse.’ Kirsten sighed. ‘Actually the truth is I needed to cry, I’m just sorry you were the one who had to bear the brunt.’
‘I’d rather you weren’t sorry,’ Jane said, her young face imbued with feeling. ‘I’m glad I was there.’
‘Yes, I’m glad too,’ Kirsten said touching her cheek.
‘Do you feel all right now?’
‘Yes. Just fine.’
‘I’ve got an idea,’ Jane said suddenly as they started out of the room. ‘You must say no if you want to, and I won’t be in the least offended if you do, but what about if I come to pick up my clothes? I have the afternoon off on Wednesday, I could come then. But no, you’ll be busy, of course you will. Perhaps you’re right, you’d . . .’
‘I won’t be busy,’ Kirsten stopped her, ‘and I’d love you to come. Shall we say around three? Or why don’t you come for lunch if you’re not doing anything? I’ll introduce you to Helena as well. I think you’ll like her. We’re both a bit old for you, I suppose, but what the hell? If you don’t mind . . .’
Jane’s homely little face was beaming. ‘I’d love to come,’ she said, but when Kirsten’s face suddenly fell she added, ‘is there a problem?’
‘Not really. Or at least there could be. Laurence. Honestly, Jane, he’d be furious if he thought you were coming to see me . . .’
‘It’s my life,’ Jane said defiantly. ‘I can see whomsoever I please. And I really would like to see you again. I’ve enjoyed talking to you.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it too,’ Kirsten smiled.
‘If you like,’ Jane said as they reached the door, ‘you can go down the fire escape.’
The absurdity of it appealed to Kirsten, making her laugh. ‘Why not?’ she said. ‘I don’t really want to run the risk of bumping into Laurence again, so would you mind searching out Helena for me? Explain what happened and tell her I’ll call her, OK?’
‘See you on Wednesday then,’ Jane said as Kirsten stepped out on to the fire escape.
‘About one,’ Kirsten smiled. ‘And happy birthday.’
By the time Kirsten arrived home her mind was racing. She knew she wouldn’t sleep and neither did she want to. She had so much to do and was eager to get started. Feeling the way she still did about Laurence was one thing, but sitting around moping about it was quite another. She had to get herself back in motion, get her career back on its feet, and the only way to do that was to start right now. And going into her study she sat down at her desk and pulled out the file filled with the ideas she and Paul had discussed during those wonderfully balmy evenings in the South of France.
5
Pippa moaned sleepily and snuggled deeper into the bed as Laurence’s hand came round and cupped her breast. After a while, as he lazily teased her nipples, a smile stole across her lips. She loved to be woken this way and gave a gentle sigh of contentment as Laurence moulded his body behind hers
and pressed himself against her.
‘Mmm,’ she murmured returning the pressure when she felt the hardness of him against the small of her back. His hand was softly caressing her stomach now, his long fingers spanning the width of her hips. She pushed her head back into his shoulder, raising her chin as he kissed her neck.
‘Good morning,’ he whispered when she turned her mouth to his. He gave her a long and deeply erotic kiss, lowering his fingers as her legs parted.
‘I’ll give you two hours to stop doing that,’ she murmured as he began stroking her. ‘Oh God,’ she moaned when a few minutes later she felt the tip of his penis start to push into her. She raised her arms over her head, reaching behind her to touch his face. He was taking a very long, sensual time to enter her, but he couldn’t reach full penetration with her in this position. Pippa moved herself forwards, half rolling on to her stomach as Laurence lifted her hips. Then suddenly the door flew open.
‘Daddy! Daddy! Wake up, Daddy! Play Humpty Dumpty!’
‘I don’t believe it,’ Pippa groaned, pushing her face into the pillow. ‘I just don’t fucking believe it.’
‘Not now, soldier,’ Laurence laughed.
‘But Daddy, it’s eight o’clock and you said you would,’ Tom protested.
‘Eight o’clock?’ Laurence repeated, frowning.
‘You said if I came in at eight o’clock we could play Humpty Dumpty and Jane says it’s eight o’clock.’
Laurence glanced at the bedside clock. ‘It’s seven-thirty, Tom,’ he said.
‘Just tell him to go,’ Pippa muttered angrily.
‘Jane said it was eight o’clock,’ Tom said stubbornly, his eager little face starting to lose its smile. He hated to be sent away and sensed that he was about to be.
Laurence reached out to pick up his watch. Tom was right, it was eight o’clock, something was obviously wrong with the radio alarm.
‘You promised,’ Tom said.
‘Sure I did,’ Laurence winked, feeling his heart tighten as he looked into his son’s forlorn face, and disentangling himself from Pippa he rolled on to his back, checking that he was still covered to the waist, and swung Tom up in the air. ‘And a man has to stick by his promises, isn’t that right?’