Love Nest

by Julia Llewellyn

  It was like being walloped over the head. Gemma had never admitted that to anyone. She was the good, reliable sister who didn’t give up when the going got tough. Spraining her foot had been the greatest excuse of all time to leave a job she hated. But how did Bridget know?

  ‘It’s true, isn’t it?’ Bridget challenged.

  ‘No, it isn’t!’

  ‘Will you get out now!’ Sian yelled. ‘Or I will call the police, so help me God.’

  ‘Please,’ Gemma said. ‘I really need the loo.’

  The first thing you were supposed to do after implantation was visit the reflexologist.

  ‘I can get a taxi,’ Gemma said meekly as they walked out of the clinic.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll drive you there.’

  They sat in silence. All the beautiful thoughts Gemma had meant to be directing towards her womb were now drowned out in a sea of recriminations. She’d borrowed – no, be honest, she’d stolen – Lucinda’s bracelet to raise the money. And now Massy had stolen it. Bridget had been escorted out of the clinic weeping. Distraught. Saying she didn’t want Gemma to bear this child.

  It was a disaster. Gemma felt bad for her sister and Lucinda, and Alex and herself. But her priority was the baby. She’d lose it with all this stress. She bloody knew she would. And if that happened she would hunt Massy down and kill him very slowly, using techniques honed in Abu Ghraib.

  They drove up Camden High Street towards Belsize Park, where Raquel, the reflexologist, lived. Past shops with racks of vintage dresses outside and windows full of buckled biker boots. Reggae pounded from speakers. French teenagers smoked joints. Beggars sat cross-legged next to cashpoints. In other words, life went on.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I should have told you.’

  ‘Where did you get the money from?’ Alex said, his tone emotionless.

  ‘I pawned… a piece of jewellery I had. It turned out to be more valuable than I thought.’

  ‘Not Granny’s ring!’

  ‘No, darling,’ she lied, holding out her engagement finger as proof. ‘I could never ever part with that. It means so much to me. It was just an old necklace.’

  ‘And where were you planning to find the cash to redeem this old necklace?’

  She decided not to tell him her plan to flog off her entire wardrobe on eBay. ‘I was stupid.’

  ‘Right.’ Alex turned to her as they stopped at a light. ‘Well, if it’s got us a baby it’ll have been worth it.’

  ‘Really?’ Tears pricked at Gemma’s eyes.

  ‘Of course. But I do feel bad for Bridget. She went through an unpleasant medical procedure and now her boyfriend’s dumped her and run off with a load of cash. We’re going to have to make it up to her.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know. But we owe her. Owe her a lot.’ Alex paused, then said, ‘What she said about spraining your foot…’

  Gemma could have confessed. But every marriage has its secrets.

  ‘All bollocks. You know that.’

  He smiled at her as he pulled up outside Raquel’s. ‘I’ll wait here for you, Poochie. Then I’ll take you home.’

  ‘You’re so lovely,’ she said.

  ‘Look, don’t get all American on me. I want this baby as much as you do. Maybe more. So don’t give me any of this lovely crap. I’m just being selfish, trying to perpetuate my genes.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I know how much you’ve suffered. I know what a trouper you’ve been. Pretending not to be bothered every time the test was negative. All that stiff-upper-lip stuff. You’ve been so brave. But there’s no need any more. We’re in this together. If it fucks up I’ll be as devastated as you. If it works… well, it’ll be good.’

  She stared at him, tears welling again.

  ‘See you in an hour. Get the foot lady to work her magic.’

  ‘Aye, aye, sir.’

  *

  They drove home in silence. Took the lift up to the second floor. Walked along the corridor.

  ‘I’ll run you a bath,’ he said, as he put his keys into the lock, and then, stepping into the flat, ‘Oh!’

  ‘What?’ But looking past him, Gemma saw. A skinny blond guy, his trousers halfway down his legs. And Lucinda, T-shirt hoiked up and fumbling with the waistband of her skirt.

  ‘What the fuck is going on?’ Alex asked.

  34

  Lucinda’s face was on fire. Her hands shook uncontrollably, her legs were jelly. She thought she might be about to vomit.

  She couldn’t look at Nick as the lift carried them down. It had all happened in a blur. She’d mumbled something about how they’d been measuring up, and Alex Meehan had said was that what she called it and shouted at them to get out. Which they had. Pronto.

  What would the agency say? What would Daddy say? Oh God, she’d been so unbelievably stupid. What had she been thinking of?

  But she wouldn’t show Nick how thrown she was. That wasn’t Lucinda’s style at all. If she was going down, it would be with honour: like Captain Hardy on the sinking ship. Or was it Captain Oates going out into the snow? What was going on? Lucinda was supposed to know this kind of thing.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ she said to Nick as they stepped out into Summer Street. ‘We forgot to double-bolt the door. Getting careless.’

  The strong sunlight had bleached out his face, so she could barely see his expression.

  ‘Will they tell everyone about this? Will it get in the papers?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she said firmly. Oh God, no. Not the papers. ‘I’ll probably lose my job, though.’

  ‘I’ll be fucked.’

  What? Lucinda stared at him. This was hardly a gallant reaction. ‘Excuse me? I just said I’ll probably lose my job. What will you lose?’

  ‘My girlfriend.’

  ‘Your girlfriend? The girlfriend you obviously care so much about, since you’ve been sleeping with me these past few weeks.’

  ‘Your job, which is obviously so important because you really need the money.’

  They glared at each other.

  ‘I don’t work for the money. I work because I enjoy it.’

  ‘Yeah, right. Selling flats. How stimulating.’

  ‘It is actually,’ said Lucinda, shocked to feel tears stinging her eyes. Her phone started ringing in her bag. It would be the office. It would be Niall. Sacking her. She looked at the caller ID. Cass. Irritably she switched it to voicemail.

  ‘I need to get back to work,’ she said briskly. ‘Receive my marching orders.’

  ‘Right.’ Nick wasn’t making eye contact. Suddenly she hated him. Why wasn’t he acting even the least bit concerned? She felt as if a lump of ice was wedged in her diaphragm. Had she lost her job for a man like this?

  ‘Goodbye,’ she said and, turning on her heel, marched off to meet her fate.

  Gemma and Alex looked at each other and started to laugh. And laugh. And laugh.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ said Alex, when the giggles finally subsided. ‘I’m calling that bunch of rip-off shysters right now and telling them what their star agent has been up to.’

  ‘Don’t do that!’ Gemma yelled as he reached for his mobile.

  ‘Why ever not? What else are we supposed to do?’

  ‘I’d just…’ Gemma wasn’t going to tell him about the bracelet. She’d done a bad thing and now Lucinda had too. They’d cancelled each other out. ‘Just I don’t need the stress right now.’

  ‘You’re mad,’ Alex smiled.

  ‘Look, the sale is almost completed. They’re not going to have the cheek to come back again, are they? Let’s just let it ride.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘We’ve got enough stress with all this…’ She laid her hand on her still-flat stomach. ‘Please just leave it. Please.’

  Alex stared at her, then shook his head ruefully. ‘All right, Poochie. Your wish is my command.’

  ‘I’m getting fed up with this,’ Max said.

  Ka
ren swallowed hard. This was it. He was telling her it was over. He was bored. He wanted someone his own age. Who could blame him?

  ‘OK,’ she said dully.

  He pulled himself up on his elbow and looked at her. His eyes were that extraordinary shade of greyish blue and his lips were so full. Karen didn’t know how she’d live without kissing them again.

  ‘Well, aren’t you? All this snatched time together. Which we only spend in bed. I mean, not that being in bed with you isn’t the best thing in the world. But I want more, Karen. I want to go out with you. To eat. To the cinema. To meet my friends. I’m tired of it all being so hole-in-the-corner and rushed.’

  ‘But what other way can it be?’ she asked. ‘I’ve got to get home to the girls. To Phil. It’s hard enough to find time to see you as it is.’

  ‘I know,’ he said.

  ‘You knew it was going to be like this. I’ve always told you the truth.’

  ‘I know. But I… I…’

  Karen felt giddy. She knew he was going to say something important.

  ‘I didn’t realize I was going to care so much,’ he whispered.

  Her heart twisted. She felt as if it might explode.

  ‘I didn’t either,’ she said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

  Max sat up. ‘So what are we going to do about it? Because I’m not sure I can carry on like this. Can’t you even stay the night some time?’

  ‘You know I can’t. I’d love to, but I can’t.’

  ‘Fuck.’

  ‘Max, if only I could. If only there was some way…’

  ‘Come away with me. For a weekend. Just two days and a night. It would be better than nothing.’

  ‘I thought us girls were the ones who were meant to crave minibreaks.’ She laughed at his confused expression. ‘Never mind. Max, I can’t. It’s so hard to explain, but when you’re a wife, let alone a mum, you can’t just disappear for two days.’

  ‘Other mums do it. I mean they have affairs.’

  ‘Not many of them, that I’m aware of.’ But Karen’s brain was turning, like pistons on a steam train, trying to work out what she might be able to organize. A story about a hen weekend. Jamila’s? Phil was so uninterested in her work friends, it was highly unlikely he’d question that. If she bought Ludmila a bottle of perfume…

  Max saw her expression change.

  ‘You’re going to try? How about this weekend?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘I’ll book something amazing. Come on. Let’s go for it.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  By the time he got home, Nick was really worried. He’d literally been caught with his trousers down. This could get all over the papers. Kylie would find out. He also had a smidgin of concern for Lucinda. She’d told him often enough that her dad was a hard, pushy bastard with a phobia about publicity. He wouldn’t take this well.

  He expected she’d call him, telling him she’d been sacked. But she didn’t. The evening was like a timebomb. He sat with Kylie, sharing takeaway fish and chips and watching Big Brother. At any second the phone would ring – Andrew saying the papers had a story, Lucinda telling him she was on a plane home to Switzerland. Why? Why? It hadn’t been worth it. OK, he’d shagged a beautiful posh bird but ultimately it had been a distraction, it had meant nothing to him.

  Guiltily, sure it would be the last time, he made love to Kylie extra tenderly. He woke up late, after she had gone to work, on tenterhooks.

  Still nothing.

  In the end, he called her.

  ‘Oh, hello, Mr Crex,’ she said coolly. ‘We seem to be all set for completion next week. If there are any problems in my absence you can discuss them with my colleague Gareth Mountcastle.’

  ‘Your absence?’

  ‘Yes. I am going on holiday tomorrow. Just a short break. Four days.’

  ‘Right,’ Nick said slowly. All his feelings about Lucinda turned on their heads. He didn’t want her to go.

  ‘Goodbye, Mr Crex.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To Tobago. I have to go now.’

  Tobago. She’d mentioned her family had a ‘place’ there. He wasn’t quite sure where Tobago was. Somewhere hot.

  ‘I…’

  ‘Goodbye.’

  A couple of seconds later, a text arrived.

  You can come with me if you like. But need to know asap as leaving tomorrow a.m. L

  Nick thought. Did he really want to go somewhere far away: somewhere sweaty, with weird food, with Lucinda? Lucinda who, he’d just decided, wasn’t really worth it. But then he thought, This is the life you want. Villas in far-off places. Smart women. Do you want to stay with a Burnley girl for the rest of your life?

  He texted back.

  I’ll come.

  35

  Karen was wide awake at five. Phil slept blithely beside her. She’d been awake the previous night when he came in from yoga, but she’d lain there stiffly, eyes closed, breathing loudly and regularly as he tiptoed around in the dark, getting undressed, muttering ‘Shit’ when he stubbed his toe in the dark. Once he’d said ‘Karen? It’s only ten o’clock.’ She’d breathed even louder. He’d sighed and given up.

  Now she sneaked downstairs into the kitchen. This was the big day. Once she’d made up her mind she’d decided to go for it sooner rather than later. She’d used the Jamila hen night story and although Phil had grumbled a bit about being in sole charge all weekend, he hadn’t questioned her.

  ‘Mummy?’

  Karen jumped. Bea stood behind her in her Lola pyjamas. So tiny, frail, innocent.

  ‘Are there any brioches?’

  ‘No, darling. I think we’ve got croissants though.’ Normally croissants were reserved for birthdays and Christmas, but now wasn’t the moment to quibble.

  ‘I don’t like croissants. I only like brioches!’

  Normally that kind of bratty remark would have acted like a touch paper, but now Karen spoke slowly. ‘Well, ask Daddy to take you to the supermarket later and buy some. Because I’m away this weekend, remember?’

  ‘Oh yeah.’ Bea climbed on her knee, wrapping her skinny arms around Karen’s neck. ‘I’ll miss you, Mum.’

  ‘I’ll miss you too,’ Karen said, wondering how she could ever have thought this would work.

  Nick wasn’t quite sure how it had all happened. He was sitting in the first class cabin of a BA plane, halfway across the Atlantic Ocean, headphones on, watching the new Batman movie on his personal DVD player. Beside him, Lucinda was reading The Economist. It had all been so quick. Less than twenty-four hours after he’d said he’d come, a limo had drawn up outside the flat in Belsize Park and his phone had rung.

  ‘I’m waiting,’ said Lucinda’s voice. ‘I hope you have your passport.’

  ‘Uh. Yeah.’ He had a small bag as well, with a couple of T-shirts and pairs of jeans. He’d packed surreptitiously the night before when Kylie was watching Big Brother. ‘I’ll be right down.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Where are you off to?’ Kylie smiled at him now from the breakfast bar, as he slung the bag over his shoulder.

  He couldn’t make eye contact. ‘Away for a few days.’

  She looked understandably aghast. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I thought I did.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Just away. Secret retreat. To do some songwriting. Andrew thought it would be a good idea.’

  ‘How long will you be gone?’

  ‘I don’t know. Three or four days.’ In his pocket his phone started ringing again. ‘Not long.’ He pecked her on the cheek. ‘I’ll call you.’

  ‘But why didn’t you say?’ she asked, as he slammed the door on her.

  Now he couldn’t quite shake off the image of Kylie’s woestruck face. He distracted himself, looking around. It was crazy really that an up-and-coming hot young rock star like himself had never flown first class. Or long haul come to that. The band had flown about Europe to various awards
and whatever but it was usually on Easyjet or Ryanair, times being tough in the music industry.

  He tried not to gawp too much at the plane’s interior. Tried not to stare at Naomi Campbell and someone he was pretty sure Kylie liked from last season’s X Factor. Tried to remember that he was one of Britain’s hottest new rock stars and to conceal his panic every time the engine made a funny noise. Lucinda continued flicking the pages nonchalantly, a glass of champagne on the little table beside her. Clearly she did this kind of thing all the time.

  Somehow that made it less fun. He wished he were there with Kylie, Kylie who would be nudging him, openly awestruck. He looked at the map on his TV screen. They were somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. Another three hours to go. There was going to be a brief touchdown in Grenada, apparently, and then another hour in the air. Once again, Nick tried to dismiss his worries. It would be hot. Nick hated the heat. It made him come out in a rash. But there’d be shade, wouldn’t there? It would be fine. He was living the life he’d always dreamed of.

  Lucinda turned to him.

  ‘You know we can have complete privacy in here, if we want it?’

  ‘Oh, yeah?’

  ‘Yeah. No one will bother us. You raise a screen by touching this button. And the chairs go back and turn into beds.’

  She smiled at him. She had a slight overbite that turned him on incredibly. He felt the familiar lurch of excitement in his groin.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Go on then,’ he said. He’d made the right call. This was going to be a blast.

  Max was waiting for Karen outside the Thameslink station, sitting at the wheel of his red Mini Cooper. She was used to seeing him either in one of his work suits or naked but now he was in a baggy black T-shirt and jeans. At the sight of him, Karen felt suddenly terrified. He was so young, so handsome, so carefree in comparison to her.

  ‘So where are we going?’ she asked, as they headed west along Euston Road.