Jake laughs. ‘Bet the prices match.’
I ignore him. ‘Corn-fed chicken, surf ‘n’ turf… look!’ I show him a picture of the inside of the restaurant. ‘It’s so glamorous.’
‘Chips taste so much better out of paper from a chippy. Trust me.’
I stand still for a moment, looking at Jake. He’s reading something on the iPad and he doesn’t look up. I stand behind him and rub his shoulders, my fingers finding knots in his muscles.
‘God, I wish I was still earning, then I’d treat us myself,’ I say.
Jake twists around on the sofa so he’s facing me. ‘Do you really want to go?’
I pull a hopeful face.
‘It’s just I thought… the fish and chips would be more authentic,’ he says. ‘I tell you what. Why don’t we get dressed up and have a drink in the bar here, then go out for fish and chips? We could get a takeaway and eat them on the pier. What do you think?’
‘Okay, deal.’ I smile, looking at the lights twinkling outside. ‘Sure. Now let me see what I can wear so they don’t think a whale’s been beached at the bar.’
‘Gives “beach bar” a whole new meaning,’ Jake laughs.
I walk over to the wardrobe and survey what scant clothes I brought. I have one reasonably nice maternity dress. I loved it when I bought it four months ago, but I’m bored senseless with it now. It’s plain and black. The words ‘jazz it up with jewellery’ are wearing very thin. Still, I’ve brought an interesting pendant that I hope takes the focus away from the plain dress and huge belly, and it’s this that I’m wearing as Jake escorts me down to the bar and we walk straight into the elegant vision that is Caroline and a tall, thin man I can only assume is her husband, the famous Toby Hughes-Smith.
Twenty-five
I plaster a smile on my face as quickly as I can.
‘Caroline! What a surprise!’
She leans in and gives me an air kiss that doesn’t touch my skin. There’s an aura of expensive perfume wafting around her.
‘I did wonder if we’d bump into you here,’ she says. ‘Have you met my husband, Toby?’
‘Nice to meet you,’ says Toby, shaking my hand and Jake’s hand in turn. His skin is cool and dry, and makes me think of lizards. And then Caroline stands back and looks Jake up and down.
‘And, well I never,’ she says, her face coming truly alive. ‘It really is Jake The Rake. Bloody hell.’ She stares at him, taking it all in: the dark jeans and white shirt, the jacket he threw on in honour of the bar, the thick, dark hair and Keanu’s eyes, and I stand there next to him, seeing how he and Caroline would make a beautiful couple, and knowing she won’t find a single thing to criticize. Everyone likes Jake; he’s easy on the eye and he’s a people-person: it’s a winning combination to any outsider, as I know from bitter experience. Toby, on the other hand, in his freshly ironed slacks, his blue shirt and herringbone jacket with the point of a hankie poking out of the top pocket, looks like he’s never done anything fun in his life. I imagine he must be very wealthy.
Caroline’s still staring at Jake as if she’s seen an apparition. ‘How many years has it been?’ she asks.
‘Twenty-something, I guess?’ says Jake.
‘No! Less than that,’ says Caroline. ‘We’re not that old. We left school at eleven, so… oh… twenty-three.’ She laughs. ‘Who’da thunk?’
Everyone laughs and then there’s an awkward pause.
‘We were just about to have a quick drink before we head out for some fish and chips,’ Jake says. ‘Would you like to join us for a snifter?’
Caroline extends her arm and peers at a gold watch that hangs on her wrist. It’s one of those ones with small diamonds floating inside the watch face.
‘What time’s the table booked for?’ she asks Toby.
‘Eight.’
They look at each other intensely for a moment as if they’re having a silent conversation, then Caroline says, ‘Yes, sure.’ She does a little shrug, and we all head over to the restaurant. At the door, I can’t help but stop and stare. It’s an interior that draws a silent ‘wow’ from me: it’s light and airy, all pale woods, big windows and ornately carved high ceilings. But, seemingly unimpressed, Caroline stalks straight over to the curved bar, picks up the drinks menu and peruses it, then puts it back down with a weary sigh.
‘Oh god, I can’t be fucked with this. Why don’t we just have champagne? In honour of our reunion. Might as well get a bottle.’ She clicks her fingers and a barman turns. ‘Over here!’
Caroline places the order, specifying a sparkling, non-alcoholic cocktail for me, then insisting on a specific brand of champagne, questioning the vintage with the barman and double-checking how cold the bottle will be before we perch ourselves on the high chairs that hug the U-shaped bar in a line. Jake’s on the far end, then Toby, Caroline and me. Caroline turns her back on her husband, and focuses her full attention on me while the barman opens the champagne and pours three glasses.
‘So, what fun to bump into you!’ she says, tilting her head and running her hand through her hair. Her teeth, against the pearly pink of her lipstick, are white. ‘Without meaning to coin a phrase…’ she pauses to laugh, ‘do you come here often?’
‘What do you think?’ I laugh, thinking about the rubbish hotel Jake had actually booked. ‘This is a treat. Jake wanted to take me away for one last fling before the baby comes.’
‘Oh, how lovely,’ Caroline sighs extravagantly and takes a deep glug of champagne. ‘Mmm. This is good. You’re really missing out.’ She closes her eyes, perhaps in appreciation of the champagne, perhaps thinking about something altogether different. ‘The Grand is gorgeous. It’s my home away from home. We came here every weekend when the kitchen was being renovated.’ She shudders. ‘Worst job ever. So much dust. But babymoons are like gap years these days, don’t you think? Never heard of them then, five minutes later, everyone’s doing them. Friends of ours went to the Maldives. Heaven, they said it was. Utter heaven. Gorgeous little over-the-sea villa.’ She laughs. ‘It’ll be some years till you can do that yourselves. Don’t think they let kids in water villas, do they, in case they fall in? Still, the beach villas are nice, too. Have you been to the Maldives?’ She snaps her gaze back to me and I shake my head. ‘Oh, never mind. This is perfectly lovely, isn’t it? I’m sure you’ll have a super time.’ I nod, and she waves her hand around the bar. ‘We come here a fair bit. One of the perks of not having kids: romantic escapes.’ She doesn’t sound so happy; her words are out of kilter with the sentiment in her voice. ‘So, you and Jake,’ she says. ‘Can’t believe you’re married to my old schoolmate.’ She drinks more champagne and the waiter discreetly refills her glass.
‘What was he like at school? Do you remember much?’
‘What’s he said about me? You must have asked him by now.’
‘Oh…’ I think about his sly smile. Was it admiration? ‘Not a lot.’
Caroline pouts. ‘Really?’
I nod. ‘Really. You know what guys are like.’
She sighs. ‘I don’t remember so much either. It’s funny how the memory goes. I remember odd scenes, and impressions. Jake was…’ She sighs. ‘How to put it? One of the “boy” boys.’
‘Okay…’
‘You know, attention span of a gnat. Bit of a reprobate, even then. Running about, causing trouble. Far too much testosterone! God, I can’t believe you let him go out with Sarah! She’s trouble in a short skirt.’ She pouts thoughtfully. ‘What else? He always seemed to have bashed-up knees – scabs or plasters hanging off, and a snotty nose. God, I remember green snot dangling out of his nose once. It went in and out as he breathed. He thought it was hilarious, though I think it traumatized me. Funny what you remember. What else? I don’t know. We moved away for a few years and I lost touch with most of the kids from primary school so I never saw him again. Till now!’ She pauses. ‘He’s obviously doing okay for himself if he’s brought you here. Hats off to him. It’s a good choice.’
> ‘Yes, what a coincidence you’re here too,’ I say.
Caroline looks sideways at me. ‘We booked long before I saw your post, if that’s what you’re implying.’
I stiffen. ‘I didn’t know you followed me.’
‘Don’t flatter yourself. Your name popped up as a suggestion and I clicked.’ She shrugs. ‘It’s all out there for anyone to see. Anyway, no harm done.’
Caroline takes another drink; the barman lifts the bottle to pour again and indicates that it’s empty. Caroline gives him a nod to get another bottle. ‘It’s nice to see old Jakey again.’
‘What did you mean about Sarah?’ I say. ‘When you said she was trouble in a skirt?’
Caroline laughs. ‘Nothing beyond what everyone can see: namely, that I’m not sure she has the same moral compass as the rest of us.’ She examines her nails, then looks sideways at me. ‘And I say that as someone who’s committed her own quota of misdemeanours…’ She lowers her voice to a whisper. ‘Let’s just say it takes one to know one.’ She taps the side of her nose with her finger. ‘Her business is her business as long as she keeps her hands off Tobes. Mind you,’ she laughs, ‘he wouldn’t. I mean, really! The state of her.’
‘I think she looks great,’ I say, feeling disloyal for even having this much of the conversation.
Caroline rolls her eyes. ‘Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, I suppose.’ She pauses. ‘And what is it you see in that Anna? She’s a funny one.’
I recoil, hurt on Anna’s behalf.
‘She’s really nice.’
Caroline snorts. ‘I guess you’re both up the duff. I suppose that’s enough at this point. So, where are you off to for supper?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Just somewhere quick and easy. Jake wants me to have an authentic “fish and chips” experience on the seafront.’
‘Seagulls pinching your chips, you mean?’ Caroline shudders. ‘Dreadful birds. Can’t stand them with their beaks and those enormous claws. Why don’t you eat here? I’m sure they do a good fish and chips, and it’s far more salubrious.’
‘I’m happy going somewhere more casual,’ I say, and Caroline looks at my dress.
‘You don’t look so bad. It must be so hard to dress at this stage. You know some women amaze me: the ones you can see from behind and not even know they’re pregnant. Anna’s a bit like that, don’t you think? Though I suppose she’s not as far along as you are.’ She sighs. ‘I hope Jake’s not taking you to some dodgy street café. I wouldn’t put up with that, if I were you.’ She leans into the bar so she can shout past Toby and me. ‘Hey, Jake The Rake! Where are you taking your wife for supper?’
‘We’ll find somewhere nice,’ Jake says politely.
Caroline bangs the bar with her hand and I realize she’s a little tipsy. ‘Don’t be taking her to any dodgy street café!’ she says loudly. ‘You don’t want her getting food poisoning in her condition. Why not eat here? It’s one of the best seafood restaurants in Brighton, for god’s sake, and you’re right here, in it!’
Jake shakes his head. ‘No, it’s…’
‘Oh, come on!’ says Caroline. ‘We need to catch up! We haven’t seen each other in a million years. Don’t be such a spoilsport. Why don’t you join us?’
‘Caro,’ says Toby quietly. It’s practically the first word I’ve heard him say all night since he’s been in deep discussion with Jake.
Caroline waves her hand. ‘No, it’s fine. I’ve known him forever. Why come here and not eat in? Tobes, can you change our booking to a table for four?’
And so it happens that we join the Hughes-Smiths for “supper”. The bill, after Toby’s eaten the king prawns and Caro’s nibbled at the lobster and ordered two more bottles of champagne, could likely have fed a family of four for a month. Toby pays.
Twenty-six
‘Did you have fun?’ I ask Jake as we get ready for bed back in the room. It was strange saying goodnight to the Hughes-Smiths in the muffled silence of a thickly carpeted hotel corridor; somehow it lent me the impression that Jake and I were staying at their own country house. I hate to say it, but Caroline did look quite at home.
‘I’d have preferred fish and chips in paper on the pier, but hey. It is what it is.’
‘Nice of Toby to pay, wasn’t it?’
‘Well, they invited us…’
‘Yes, but still. They didn’t have to get the bill.’
Jake tuts. ‘I’m sure he can afford it.’
I take off my pendant and earrings, tie my hair back and start cleansing my face at the double sink.
‘It was the champagne more than the food,’ Jake says. ‘Really got stung there.’
‘Yeah, Caroline was knocking it back, wasn’t she? It was a bit irresponsible to keep ordering when no one else was drinking it.’
‘I don’t think she noticed that it was just her. But you seemed to be getting on all right with her?’
‘She was better than she was that night at book club. But there’s still an edge to her like… I don’t know. Maybe it’s just her sense of humour but she…’ I sigh. ‘She swears a lot, doesn’t she?’ I splash water on my face. ‘How was Toby?’
‘Nice. Seemed like a solid bloke.’
‘I wonder what they have in common. They’re like chalk and cheese. He’s so stuffy and she’s so…’ I wave my hand, lost for the right word to describe her arrogance, her confidence and her utter belief that she’s the best person ever to walk the earth.
‘I get the impression he’s her rock,’ Jake says. ‘Perhaps he’s what keeps her anchored,’ and I get the image in my head of Caroline shaped like a balloon, tethered on a string to Toby the rock. Immediately I want to prick her and watch her shriek her way into the stratosphere.
‘Poor guy,’ I say. ‘No wonder he looks so serious.’
Jake comes into the bathroom in his boxers and squeezes toothpaste onto his brush.
‘Oh, come on. He seemed like a nice guy. I don’t think they’ve had it as easy as you might imagine.’
‘What, Tobes didn’t get a seven-figure bonus last year?’ I laugh at my joke.
Jake shakes his head while brushing his teeth. I have to wait till he’s finished before he carries on. He spits, rinses his mouth, then says, ‘I don’t know. He hinted that something bad happened a year ago. That this was some sort of bad-iversary. Maybe that’s why Caroline was drinking so much and he didn’t stop her. I think there was more to it than what we saw, put it that way.’
‘Oh really? Like what?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t like to ask.’
I tut. ‘You’re useless! Caroline didn’t say anything of the sort, or I would have asked, for sure.’
‘I know you would.’
‘I wonder if that’s why they were so keen for us to join them. It seemed a bit desperate, didn’t it?’
‘Who knows,’ Jake says. ‘Let’s go to bed.’ He gets into bed but I linger at the dressing table, fiddling with my lotions and thinking about what Caroline said about trusting Jake with Sarah. I know I should trust him but he’s away so much. It’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? He could have a whole separate family without me knowing. Or was Caroline just winding me up? She strikes me as a woman with her own issues and insecurities. Is she the sort who likes to upset others to make herself feel good?
Jake lets out a loud fake snore.
‘All right, all right, I’m coming.’ But before I turn off my phone, I take one more look at the selfie the four of us snapped in the bar before I join him: Caroline’s smiling her beautiful, symmetrical smile right into the camera, but behind her eyes, now I think about it, is there a hint of something else?
You aborted his baby
Oh, don’t look so shocked. It’s your dirty little secret, isn’t it? The one that comes back to haunt you in the middle of the night. You didn’t even tell him you were pregnant, did you, even though you’d been together a year? Just decided a baby wouldn’t fit into your life at that point and got rid of it.
>
Who’d have thought you could be so cold-hearted? You, of all people.
And don’t you go getting all self-righteous on me; judging me for finding out. You’ve no one to blame but yourself. You know your Instagram has ‘location’ switched on, don’t you? All it takes for me to find out where you are is one click, and there it is, a pin in a map showing me how to find you.
I can’t believe you wouldn’t know that. No one’s that naive, not even a fourth-grader.
And I’ll be honest: sometimes I wonder if you leave it on for me; wonder if you’re deliberately leaving clues for me – but then I have to pinch myself. Of course you’re not. You genuinely are that fucking stupid.
So, I’m bored one day. You’re quiet on social media for once. It’s rare, but it’s one of those days when you’re not posting anything – no Tweets, no Instagram, nothing – so I decide to go for a drive; pay you a visit. And, honestly, there are worse things you can do in life than rifle through a few rubbish bins. I have latex gloves. I use them: it’s not that disgusting. Food containers – ready meals for one; drinks cans (you really should recycle, though I suppose you have other things on your mind); used cotton-wool balls and tissues; coffee pods; and then there it is: the pill packet.
At first I’m not sure what it is. I don’t take it. Oh no, I’m no amateur. I photograph it and I put it back. Exactly where I found it: under the lasagne box.
And then I google it. And you know those days you have when everything goes your way? Days that make you want to sing and dance? It’s one of those days because what I find out is that that packet contained the abortion pill. For use at less than nine weeks. So how long do you think about it for? A fortnight? A week? A day? An hour? When you see those blue lines sitting on the toilet that morning, what are your thoughts? What drives you to the planned-parenthood clinic?
I Know You Page 14