The Decision

by Penny Vincenzi

  ‘Matt, that slightly unattractive solicitor of yours has already gone through it with me. Don’t worry. I won’t let you down. How’s Emmie?’

  ‘She’s fine. Well—’ He sighed. ‘Not really. She was throwing up the other night. But she’s down in the country with her mother. For the weekend.’

  There was a silence; then he nodded in the direction of her glass.

  ‘Another?’

  ‘Yes. Please. I feel like indulging myself tonight.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Oh – not sure. Just feel a bit – a bit like it. But I’ll have to be careful, I’ve got a big day tomorrow, going up to Stratford for a meeting with the builders on site. Not good with a hangover.’

  ‘No. Look – I’ll get a bottle, might as well.’

  The bottle arrived; they seemed to get through the first glass very quickly. Matt poured them a second.

  ‘Wow, this’ll have to be my last,’ said Louise, ‘I feel a bit dizzy already. I might go to the Ladies now, while I can still walk straight.’

  ‘You look sensational, doll,’ said Freddy, ‘love the hair.’

  ‘Thanks. Suddenly – one lot of wispy layers too many. Good day?’

  ‘Yup, very.’

  ‘So where’s Sam?’

  Sam was Freddy’s partner, a sober-looking academic, specialising in medieval history, and about as unlike Freddy as a man could be.

  ‘He’s at home. He’s finishing some paper on the rise of the anti-popes.’

  ‘Christ,’ said Gina.

  This was not a reaction to the subject of Sam’s paper, but the fact that she had just seen Matt across the bar.

  ‘Anything wrong?’

  ‘Could be. Might be best to move on.’

  ‘Gina! I haven’t even ordered a drink yet. Have a heart, I’ll make it a quick one. You?’

  ‘Oh yes, all right,’ said Gina. She had taken comfort from the fact that she and Freddy were in a banquette, fairly well-shielded from view. And the bar was quite dark. She could actually observe Matt without him realising it. She wondered who he was with …

  Louise combed her hair, touched up her lipstick and sprayed on some more Miss Dior perfume. She studied herself in the mirror; she looked all right. She didn’t look drunk. But then she didn’t know what she looked like when she was drunk, it was quite a rare occurrence. On the other hand, it had been a bit hard to walk straight across the bar.

  She went back to Matt, who was looking broodingly into his glass.

  ‘Matt! You’re not going to survive the weekend if you go on like this. It’ll be fine.’

  ‘I – hope so,’ he said, but he didn’t sound very convinced.

  ‘It will. What are you most scared of? Apart from losing?’

  ‘Oh, reliving it all, in public—’

  ‘What?’ she asked, genuinely curious.

  ‘The – the marriage. The marriage going wrong. All the awful things, the fights, the cross-purposes, oh, I don’t know, I just feel so confused. Part of me wishes I’d never even started on it—’

  ‘Of course. You’d be weird if you didn’t. But—’ She struggled for the right thing to say. ‘But everything you really care about is worth fighting for – sorry, terrible cliché – and, and surely Emmie comes under that category.’

  ‘Yes, of course. But you know – I was thinking about her the other day, how I was high as a kite after she was born, I could have flown out the window, it was so amazing and we were all so happy. I thought I’ve really, really got it all now, and – look at us. I did that.’

  ‘Matt, you didn’t do it. Well, you did, but you both did. Maybe – maybe the two of you should never have got married. You’re so different. I mean, I know you were in love and everything, but there’s love, isn’t there, and there’s marriage and – oh, never mind. I don’t know what I’m talking about. Last of the spinsters, that’s me. Married to hotels, what a prospect for my old age—’

  ‘I don’t know. Could be worse. Someone to look after you. Lots of someones. Not many old people have their own personal chambermaids—’

  She smiled. ‘Nice one, Matt. Oh, could you excuse me just a moment, there’s the manager, he’s spotted me. I’ll be back.’

  Gina watched Louise as she walked across the bar; she was very stylish. Not exactly fashionable, those shoes were last year’s without a doubt and her Little Black Dress was neither mini nor maxi, just knee-length. But that long rope of pearls, possibly the Chanel boutique, was very nice and so were the gold bangles – and her legs were very good indeed. And she had a sleekness about her that meant self-confidence and success – big success. Louise was a tycoon, one of the very first females to be so, not just the part owner of some crummy boutique. Gina suddenly felt rather depressed. No, more than depressed, distressed.

  Here was the man she was hoping to – well, actually, marry one day, in the company of a woman who …

  ‘Let’s go,’ she said to Freddy, ‘please.’

  ‘OK, doll, but I’ve left my wallet upstairs, I’ll have to go and get it. See you in the lobby.’

  ‘Yes, fine.’

  She stood up; as she did so, Louise came sashaying across the room, sat down with a bit of a thump half on Matt’s lap and laughed. He wouldn’t like that, Gina thought, he hated any kind of public intimacy. But – he smiled back at her and patted her thigh fondly as she slithered off it.

  And then – then – no, couldn’t be, but yes, yes it was, they stared at each other, clearly quite startled, and there was a pause and then Louise leaned forward and smiled and kissed Matt – OK, very briefly – on the mouth. And then pulled back. And then he did the same. Equally briefly. And then they sat staring at each other again.

  Gina couldn’t stand it any longer; she walked forward, right up to their table, and squaring up to them said, ‘Is this a private love-in? Or can anyone join in?’

  ‘Damn! Shit! Bloody animals. Oh—’

  ‘Fuck?’ proffered Eliza helpfully.

  ‘Yes, actually. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh, look at it. And it’s Friday evening, all the garages will be closed. Oh, bloody hell—’

  The cause of this outburst was a couple of sheep that had clearly escaped their field and were ambling peacefully along the country lane; a corner had obscured them from view until the very last minute, whereupon Toby had braked, swerved violently and slithered safely but rather irrevocably half into the ditch.

  Eliza got out and looked at the car. A few attempts at reversing had failed, indeed made matters worse; the BMW was now trapped in its own skid trail of wet grass and mud.

  Toby got out and joined her. ‘We should have stuck to the main roads,’ he said.

  That ‘we’ was generous, she thought; it had been her suggestion that they struck off the A road, which was thick with Friday-evening traffic.

  ‘I’m sorry. Bad idea.’

  ‘No, no, it’s – well, yes, bad idea.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she said again.

  ‘It’s – OK.’ He scowled at the car. ‘Bloody thing. But – point is – what do we do now?’

  ‘God knows. We need a tow—’

  As if on cue a very old Ford Anglia pulled up beside them, and a doughty-looking elderly lady peered at them. She was dressed in a barbour and wellington boots in spite of the lovely evening, her grey hair piled up in a straggly bun on the top of her head.

  ‘Looks as if you need help.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Toby, ‘and kind of you to stop. But I don’t think your car …’

  She looked at him witheringly.

  ‘Of course not. But there’s a breakdown garage in Deep Mallow, that’s the village a few miles along. Want a lift there?’

  ‘That would be very kind. But won’t they be closed?’

  ‘Oh, without doubt. But Jim – that’s the owner – lives on the premises, I know him very well, he’ll come and sort you out, come on, hop in.’

  Eliza and Toby hopped.

  Jim Douglas was clearly in awe of the old lady;
he said he was just finishing his tea and then he’d accompany Eliza and Toby back to the car. He revealed as they drove over that she was the widow of one Colonel Rockingham, resident of the manor house and the uncrowned queen of the village.

  ‘Very nice lady, very generous, but you ’ave to do what she says or you’re sorry. She says to let ’er know what I make of it all.’

  ‘Oh – OK,’ said Toby. ‘Very kind of you anyway.’

  Jim Douglas managed to tow the car out of the ditch; but there was some damage to the wheel base. ‘Can’t do nothing with that till tomorrow, if then.’

  ‘Oh, dear. We rather need to get back,’ said Toby.

  ‘’Fraid you won’t. Not in that.’

  ‘Is there anywhere we could hire a car?’

  ‘Not this time of night. In the morning, maybe. If you want to make a few calls, there’s a pay phone in the workshop, but I doubt you’ll ’ave any joy.’

  They didn’t. Everywhere was closed.

  ‘Looks like we’re stuck. No – no buses, I suppose.’

  ‘What, this time of night? Last one goes at five thirty.’

  ‘No taxi service?’

  ‘What, in Deep Mallow?’ He seemed to find this very amusing. ‘No, you’re here till tomorrow, I’d say. But … let’s see now – there’s a very good pub down the road, you could get a meal there and then my auntie, she’s got a B&B, she might be able to put you up, I could ring her. Just the one night, would it be?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  He came back smiling. ‘Yes, she’s got the one room, nice one, she says, looks over the meadows. Fifty bob with breakfast, OK?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘I’ll tell her then. It’s just two houses down from the pub, called White Cottage, nice and convenient for you. You’ll be very comfortable, I can vouch for that.’

  ‘Mr Douglas—’

  ‘That sounds perfect,’ said Eliza. She smiled sweetly at Toby. ‘Very, very kind. Thank you.’

  Toby stared at her, his expression a mixture of horror and amusement.

  ‘Well, honestly,’ she said, tucking into the very good pie and chips that the pub served, ‘we have to stay somewhere, we can’t sleep in the ditch, and it was obviously very clean. And so sweet of her, offering to lend us toothbrushes and stuff.’

  ‘Yes, but – I mean – Eliza—’

  ‘Toby, stop it. I’m not trying to seduce you, if that’s what you think.’

  ‘No – no, of course not.’

  ‘I’ve got enough problems. You saw it was quite a big bed, we’ll manage. You can put a bolster down between us if you really want to—’

  ‘Oh, God.’ He looked quite desperate; she felt half-amused, half-insulted. ‘Did – did you speak to your mother?’

  ‘Yes. I just said we’d had to stop for the night in a hotel, she’ll obviously assume two rooms and all that. Emmie’s fine, exhausted, actually gone to bed, and unless you’ve got any serious commitments you haven’t told me about, I don’t see why you’re quite so worried.’

  ‘Legal protocol,’ he said, ‘surely you can see this is appallingly compromising.’

  ‘Toby!’

  ‘No, it’s true. Personal relationships between counsel and client are absolutely unethical. It would give your husband and his legal team the perfect opportunity to say I was unable to do the job I am required to do, that of advising the court as well as the client.’

  ‘But we’re not in a personal relationship,’ said Eliza.

  ‘And who would believe that? Christ. Sharing a room and a double bed. Please, Eliza, use your brain.’

  ‘I don’t have much of a one, as you know. And who is going to tell? I’m not, you’re not. I doubt if Jim Douglas’s auntie will. So do stop fussing and eat your pie, it’s awfully good.’

  He looked at her and grinned suddenly. ‘You seem very cheerful about it.’

  ‘I am. It’s a wonderful distraction from Monday. Now do try to stop fussing, Toby. It’ll be all right.’

  Mrs Rockingham appeared in the pub just as they were finishing their meal. She nodded at them, went over to the bar; Toby jumped up.

  ‘Let me, it’s the least I can do. You’ve been so kind. What are you drinking?’

  ‘Guinness,’ she said. ‘A pint, please. Very good of you. May I join you for a bit? I won’t stay long, never do, just the one and I’m back off home to bed.’

  ‘Us too,’ said Eliza with an innocent smile at Toby. She was suddenly hugely enjoying this.

  ‘Toby, please try to relax. You’ll have a heart attack in a minute. Now look, I’m going along the corridor to the bathroom, clean my teeth and stuff and you can get undressed. OK?’

  ‘Yes, OK. Well actually – I’ll go first. Oh, I don’t know.’

  He seemed incredibly stressed, stripped of his usual self-confidence. Eliza was surprised. She’d have expected him to take it more in his stride.

  ‘I’ll go first,’ she said.

  When she got back, he was waiting by the door; he bolted out of it. Eliza sighed and undressed down to her bra and pants, then after a moment took the bra off and replaced it with the denim shirt she’d been wearing. It seemed less compromising. She sat down on the bed; it was quite hard and it creaked horribly. But – it was large. They could lie quite easily – on their separate sides.

  She decided he would be happier if she turned the light out, but the switch was by the door; he came in and climbed in beside her.

  ‘Goodnight,’ he said, very formally.

  ‘Goodnight, Toby. Sleep well. Er – could you turn the light off?’

  ‘Oh – yes, sure.’

  She watched him as he half-ran across the room; he was wearing only his underpants. He had a very good body, she noticed – purely out of academic interest of course – he was lean and muscly and his shoulders were much broader than she had realised.

  ‘Night,’ he said again, turning his back very carefully on her.

  ‘Night, Toby. Sweet dreams.’

  ‘Gina, please!’

  ‘Please what, Matt? Please go away? Please leave me to what is clearly a very enjoyable evening? Please don’t be embarrassing?’

  She nodded at Louise. ‘Hello. Nice to see you again. You must forgive me for intruding. I’ve heard how much you’ve been helping Matt with his case; it seems I was right about your motives. And I might say you’re doing a lot better with him than I am. He won’t even appear in public with me, never mind snogging. This is a very nice hotel, Louise, I presume you can have a room at very short notice. Most convenient. Well, I’ll let you get on. Enjoy your evening.’

  And she was gone, her high heels clacking across the hard wooden floor.

  ‘Oh, God,’ said Matt, ‘I’m sorry, Louise. She’s a bit – highly strung.’

  ‘You could say that. Or you could say she was a bit rude. Or a bit mad. Are you still seeing her, then?’

  ‘Not – not really.’

  ‘It sounds as if you are. What was all that about, my motives?’

  ‘Oh – oh nothing … Look, you must feel very embarrassed in front of your manager and everything, maybe we’d better go.’

  ‘What, up to a room, as the whole bar will now be expecting? I don’t think so. I think we should stay here, nice and calm, and carry on with the champagne. And you can explain, perhaps, exactly what she meant.’

  ‘Louise—’

  ‘No, I want to know.’

  ‘Well – I’ll – I’ll try.’

  He tried.

  ‘That’s just totally ridiculous.’

  ‘I know. I’m just telling you what she said.’

  ‘I mean—’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘It’s – well, it’s crazy.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I just wanted to help, that’s all.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I mean of course I’m very – I’m fond of you.’

  ‘Really?’

 
‘Of course.’

  ‘I thought you hated me.’

  ‘Now Matt, that’s just stupid. Of course I don’t hate you. As I said, I’m quite – quite fond of you.’

  ‘I know. I mean, I know you don’t actually hate me. I didn’t realise you were – fond of me.’

  ‘Hang on. Probably I should have said I liked you. Yes, I like you. Quite a lot.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘We go back a long way, after all.’

  ‘We do.’

  ‘Years and years.’

  ‘And for most of them, we spent a lot of time fighting.’

  ‘Yes, we did. But you deserved it.’

  ‘Oh, Louise.’

  ‘Oh, Matt. What’s the matter, what’s gone wrong, you look as if you’re going to – to cry.’

  ‘I feel like crying,’ he said, ‘suddenly.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’m a complete and utter bastard. And I’ve made a complete and utter hash of everything.’

  ‘Not a complete and utter hash. Complete and utter bastard – well, arguable, I’d say.’

  ‘No, don’t. Don’t start trying to make me feel better about myself. You can’t. I’m a bastard, and I didn’t deserve Eliza and I’ve behaved appallingly towards her, for years and years, and I don’t deserve Emmie, and I’m behaving appallingly to her, and – oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. Oh, Christ, I think I’d better go home.’

  ‘No. No, don’t. Why don’t you come back to my place. Just for a bit. Just for some – whisky. Whisky and sympathy.’

  Eliza woke up, feeling very hot and longing for a pee. She eased herself cautiously onto her back and lay there for a bit, listening to Toby snoring. His concern about their situation was clearly not severe enough to keep him awake.

  She slid as carefully as she could out of bed, cursing the creaking, worked her way towards the door and opened it; switched the landing light on and scuttled along to the loo.

  God, it was hot.

  Back in the room, it was stifling; she tried to open the window, but it seemed to be jammed. She looked at her watch: only half past two. A long time ahead, to be this uncomfortable. Well – maybe –

  She pulled her shirt off, and lay down again. And then her pants. Toby was far too deeply asleep to notice.