by Susan Lewis
Through his shock she could see him struggling to find the right words. ‘Why?’ he finally managed.
‘I think it was because she couldn’t forgive herself,’ she answered, then turned to look back at Allyson’s flat.
‘Had she done something …?’ he said.
Tessa smiled. She knew how hard this conversation was for other people, no-one ever really knew what to say. ‘It was more what she didn’t do,’ she answered.
Julian looked up at the flat too. Winter trees and white clouds were reflected in the windows. Evergreen shrubs crowded the balconies.
‘I wonder what Allyson would do if she knew I was down here?’ Tessa said.
‘What would you want her to do?’
‘Anything, as long as it’s not what my mother did.’ She turned to look up at him again. Then smiling she said, ‘We ought to be getting back. If Bob wakes up he’ll wonder where we are.’
With the day’s festivities at an end Allyson was walking down the front path of her parents’ Chelsea home, helping Bob’s father to a taxi. It was slippery out, and George wasn’t too steady on his feet.
‘I had a lovely day,’ he told her, his breath making wispy clouds in the chill night air.
‘I’m glad you came,’ she said. ‘So was Mummy. We’d have missed you if you hadn’t.’
‘I could have gone to my sister,’ he assured her, ‘but well, I always come here.’
‘Of course you do.’ She opened the rear door and helped him in. After giving him a kiss she told the driver his address and leaned in the window. ‘I’ll call you next week,’ she said, ‘find out how you are.’
‘You’ll always be my girl,’ he said, squeezing her hand.
Smiling, she stood back and waved as the taxi drove off into the night. Then pulling her cardigan tightly around her, she ran back inside. Her aunt and uncle were still there, snoozing on the sofa, while a repeat of Only Fools and Horses played on the TV. Her mother was in the kitchen cleaning the oven. Her father had retired to the study an hour ago to compose a letter to The Times.
She’d spent every Christmas she could remember in this house, unwrapping presents in the morning, getting ready for church, then going to dish out meals for the homeless before returning for their own turkey feast. Though she hadn’t wanted to be anywhere else this year, it had been almost unbearable without Bob. Until the break-up her family had all adored him, and she knew that Christmas hadn’t been the same for them either, without his teasing and taunting and outrageous games to liven up the day. Everyone kept looking around, as though expecting him to walk in. Then, when they seemed finally to accept that he wouldn’t, a pall fell over the gathering as though there had been a bereavement.
‘Daddy’s had another bombing,’ her mother said, as Allyson started to pack away the cake. It was Peggy’s way of saying her husband’s incontinence pad needed changing.
Allyson stopped and looked at her mother. Then quite suddenly she started to laugh. After a moment her mother started to laugh too. It had been an awful day, so awful Allyson had almost wanted to put a gun to her head as she tormented herself with images of how cosy and romantic Bob and Tessa probably were, over the river in their love nest. And now here she was at the end of it all, standing in the kitchen with her mother crying with laughter at how wretched their lives were, thanks to the men they loved.
Five days later Allyson was back at the office. Normally she and Bob drove down to the country on Boxing Day and stayed until New Year, but even if she hadn’t closed up the house she wouldn’t have wanted to go alone, it would have been just too depressing. Besides, she was attempting to get used to the idea that everything was different now. Though she hated even to think it, and could feel everything in her straining to resist it, she knew that the only way she was ever going to get over it was to accept that moving on meant looking ahead to the future her new job was offering, instead of casting about in the past for a thousand vivid and happy memories to torment herself with; or letting her imagination loose on the present when it invariably conjured up all kinds of painful scenarios of what Bob and Tessa might be doing now.
She had no more programmes to record before January, they were all in the can, so she’d come to the office to start getting things ready for her first meeting with her new research team. Thanks to Mark’s skilful handling of Shelley, Allyson had been able to have a long and productive talk with her on the phone over Christmas, when she’d put forward the names of those she wanted to poach for her team, which Shelley hadn’t objected to even though Allyson felt she was stealing the cream of the crop. Shelley was even enthusiastic about the few sketchy ideas Allyson threw in for discussion, coming up with several suggestions of her own that would certainly work. To Allyson’s relief they’d also agreed that she should keep her office, her salary and dressing room, all of which was going to save her an enormous amount of face when her new role on the programme was made public sometime in the next few days.
‘It’s like the dawning of a new era for us,’ Shelley had remarked towards the end of the call. ‘I’m just glad that we’re going into it together.’
Allyson laughed. ‘You didn’t really think I was going to let you go ahead without me, did you?’ she challenged.
‘I have to confess, I was starting to get worried,’ Shelley replied. ‘It’s been a horrible few months for you and I honestly wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d decided to walk away from it all.’
‘My marriage maybe, but not the programme,’ Allyson said. ‘Anyway, I’ll see you at the office on Thursday.’
Shelley came in around lunch time, so they ran through the rain to the wine bar where they ordered shepherd’s pie and chips and a bottle of red wine. London was like a ghost town at this time of year, so they didn’t have too many interruptions as they talked, with people coming up to say hello to Allyson or ask for her autograph.
‘So, how was your mother?’ Allyson asked as they waited for the food.
‘As witchy as ever. Probably where I get it from. What about yours? Still cut up over Bob?’
Allyson felt the bottom drop out of her carefully constructed resolve. Quickly she recovered it and rolled her eyes. ‘And some,’ she said. ‘But it’s only been a couple of months. You can’t expect her to be over it yet.’
Shelley’s expression was wry. ‘Was it tough?’ she said. ‘I guess it must have been.’
‘I’ve been married to him for nineteen years,’ Allyson said. ‘It doesn’t just go away.’
‘No, of course not,’ Shelley responded, while looking curiously at the package Allyson was taking out of her bag. ‘So, have you spoken to your research team yet? Any decisions on where you’re going to record your first programme?’
‘Nothing’s settled yet,’ Allyson answered, ‘but it should be by the end of next week.’ She set a beautifully wrapped package on the table in front of her, then looked into Shelley’s face. ‘Listen, I know things have been a bit strained between us lately,’ she said, ‘and it’s probably mostly my fault. No, please, hear me out,’ she said when Shelley started to protest. ‘We’ve been friends for a long time, and I’m not prepared to lose you the way I lost Bob. So I’m sorry for the way I’ve been, if I’ve said anything hurtful, or done anything to upset you …’
‘You haven’t,’ Shelley said. ‘In fact it’s probably been more the other way round.’
Allyson smiled. ‘We’ve come through difficult times before and no doubt we will again,’ she said, ‘but right now, I just want you to know how much this new job means to me. It’s exactly what I need, something fresh and challenging to focus on, and plenty of reasons to get up in the morning.’ She laughed. ‘Anyway, I’m really glad you came up with the idea, and I’m flattered you think I could do it.’
‘Just don’t prove me wrong,’ Shelley warned. ‘I really stuck my neck out with Mark Reiner to get you this position.’
Allyson looked down at the package. The lie irritated her intensely, but she let it go un
challenged. ‘I got you this,’ she said, handing the package over. ‘It’s not just a Christmas present, it’s a thank-you present too.’
Shelley looked delighted, but that was nothing to how she responded when she opened the package and saw what was inside. ‘Oh my God, Ally,’ she breathed.
‘It’s a Marcel Bouraine fan dancer,’ Allyson said. ‘Circa 1920. It’s stamped.’
‘This must have cost you a fortune,’ Shelley protested. She was lifting the heavy, bronze figurine from the box. ‘It’s exquisite. Oh my God.’ She laughed as her eyes filled with tears. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘I’m glad you like it,’ Allyson said, smiling.
‘Like it! I love it.’ The slender female body and open bronze fan were almost animated by the glinting winter sunlight coming through the windows, and the thick gold-veined marble of the base weighed heavily in her hand. Allyson reached out to touch it, turning it to get a better look. They were still admiring it when their food arrived.
‘OK, so tell me about Mark,’ Allyson said as Shelley packed the figurine away. ‘Did you see him over Christmas?’
Shelley’s eyes started to shine. ‘Just before,’ she said. ‘We had the most amazing session in his office.’
‘No!’ Allyson cried, covering her true reaction well. Not that she wanted to have a session in his office, it was just that … Well, Shelley’s involvement with him felt like a threat to her friendship with him, which was nonsense of course, so laughing she said, ‘What if someone had come in?’
‘The door was locked. But to be honest I don’t think either of us would have noticed even if someone had. I’m telling you that man is something else.’ She sighed ecstatically and picked up her wine. ‘You know, I was really beginning to think there was no-one out there for me. Here I am, forty-two years old, and, well, I can tell you Mark Reiner is definitely worth the wait.’ She took a sip of wine, then abruptly changed the subject. ‘New Year’s Eve,’ she said. ‘Will it be the Roof Garden, or Jemima and Phillip Gunter’s? They always give a good bash. Which do you fancy?’
‘I hadn’t given it much thought,’ Allyson answered, trying to steer her mind away from the image of Bob embracing Tessa at midnight.
‘Well, you decide. I’ll get hold of Mark and ask him if he wants to come too.’ Shelley looked quickly at Allyson. ‘You don’t mind, do you, if he comes?’
‘Why should I? No, that’s fine.’ She was lying, because it wasn’t fine, but she didn’t want to get into why when she didn’t even know.
After lunch they returned to the office, but Shelley didn’t stay long, she was off to Bond Street to find something to wear for New Year’s Eve. Something to blow Mark’s mind. Allyson carried on working till four, so engrossed in the drawing-up of proposals for her first programme that she soon forgot about Shelley and Mark. And with no-one else in the office to distract her she’d managed to achieve a great deal by the time she started packing up her briefcase to go home. She was on the point of walking out the door when her telephone rang.
‘Allyson Jaymes,’ she said.
‘Allyson Jaymes. It’s Mark Reiner.’
Her heart skipped a beat. ‘Mark!’ she cried, unable to keep the pleasure from her voice.
‘How are you?’ he asked. ‘Did you have a good Christmas?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ she lied happily. ‘How was yours?’
‘My brother’s here with his wife. It’s always good to see them.’
‘Oh,’ was all she could think of to say to that.
‘I was wondering,’ he said, ‘if you’re doing anything New Year’s Eve. Nick, that’s my brother, has got a table at the Grosvenor House ball, and, well, I’m in need of a partner.’
Allyson’s mind went straight to Shelley.
‘It’s for charity,’ he said, as though that would persuade her.
‘That’s good,’ she responded.
He laughed. ‘I can come by and pick you up. Dinner’s at nine. I guess we should get there around then. If you’re free, of course.’
Allyson’s thoughts were in such a commotion that she truly didn’t know what to say. She wanted to go, of course, but if she did what the hell was she going to tell Shelley? Actually there wasn’t a single thing she could tell Shelley that Shelley would find in any way acceptable. Especially not when Shelley was right now somewhere in Bond Street in search of some slinky, sizzling little number with which to dazzle him on the very night he was talking about.
‘Mark, I …’ she began.
‘… would love to come?’ he finished.
She laughed. ‘Yes, but …’
‘You’ve got other plans?’
‘No. It’s just …’
‘Then I’ll be by around nine,’ he said. ‘I’ll be the one in the tux,’ and the line went dead.
She had to call him back. Right now. She had to explain that she simply couldn’t do this to Shelley, even if he could. She had no idea what he was playing at, having amazing sessions with Shelley in his office, then calling up to ask her out, but she couldn’t help feeling flattered by the possibility that he might just prefer her to Shelley. But that was nonsense, it wasn’t about that, she was sure. And though she found him attractive, there was simply no way in the world she was ready to go out with other men. In fact just the thought of it made her feel too peculiar for words. Bob was the only man she’d ever been to bed with, the only man she’d ever loved. It was going to be a long, long time before she was ready to let someone take his place, no matter how attractive she might find them.
Her dilemma seemed only to increase as she wandered down to her dressing room to get her coat. Bob was going to be with Tessa on New Year’s Eve, so why the hell shouldn’t she go out with someone too? If nothing else it would show her bastard of a husband that she wasn’t sitting at home crying over his desertion any more. And how desperately she wanted him to know that someone else wanted her. Maybe she could go without mentioning it to Shelley. She could always say that she didn’t feel up to a party, and had decided to spend the night with her parents.
Her heart turned over as she suddenly realized she was sifting through the gorgeous creations on her clothes rail, picking out something that was stunningly suitable for a ball. Did that mean she’d already made a decision? No, it simply meant she’d have a dress to hand in the unlikely event that she did decide to go.
At nine o’clock on New Year’s Eve, dressed in a black Gianni Versace tuxedo, a long black cashmere overcoat and white silk scarf, Mark rang the doorbell to Allyson’s flat. A few seconds later the buzzer sounded to release the door, so pushing it open he climbed up to the second floor and found her waiting on the landing.
He stopped when he saw her, and felt his words to be gauchely inadequate as he said, ‘You look beautiful.’ And she did, with her fine blonde hair scooped up in a diamond-studded net, her face exquisitely made up, and her slender shoulders bare to the tight black bodice of her dress and tops of her over-the-elbow gloves. From the waist to the ground the dress was a magnificent array of stiff taffeta petticoats, all in black, with high, strappy shoes that had across the toes the same design of diamonds that dropped from her ears and circled her neck.
‘Thank you,’ she smiled. ‘Would you like to come in?’
He followed her inside, to where her black fur coat and small velvet purse were lying on a chair in the sitting room. ‘It’s fake,’ she said, meaning the coat.
He smiled. ‘But this isn’t,’ he said, taking a small boxed orchid from his inside pocket.
Allyson’s eyes widened with surprise and pleasure. It was such a touchingly old-fashioned thing to do, bring a girl an orchid to pin on her dress.
‘Perfect,’ he said, standing back to admire her after she’d finished arranging it.
She looked up into his eyes, then felt herself blushing. ‘Thank you,’ she said again, and hoped he didn’t realize how awkward she felt, and how wrong it seemed for him to be in her flat without Bob being there too. In an
attempt to cover it she said, ‘You look very dashing.’
‘Come on,’ he laughed, ‘the car’s right downstairs.’
It was a black Aston Martin with a cream leather interior and every conceivable electronic gadget right at his fingertips. It was also a warm, mellow enclosure on a freezing, windswept night, with an excellent CD system that was playing the newly composed score for a TV movie due to air on Mark’s American cable station in a couple of weeks.
As he drove she asked him more about the movie, and laughed when he confessed he hadn’t actually seen it yet. Then they talked about other films they had seen, and plays, what had been in the news that day, everything but why he’d invited her tonight, instead of Shelley. She really wanted to ask, but now the opportunity was there she was afraid it might sound as though she was seeking comparisons or compliments, and maybe she was.
It didn’t take long to reach the hotel, to her relief, for by then they’d run out of conversation, which didn’t seem to bother him, in fact she wasn’t even sure he’d noticed. They left the car with a valet, checked their coats, then followed the crowd slowly through to the huge, baroque-style ballroom. The orchestra was playing a Christmas tune, brightly coloured streamers and tinsel cascaded from the ceiling and balcony, while waiters in smart white jackets and tartan bow ties wove between tables with trays of drinks and expertly presented canapés. Nick and Claudia were already there, and to Allyson’s surprise she recognized Claudia from school.
‘You were in Miss Egger’s class,’ Allyson laughed. ‘The year above me.’
‘And I remember you. You were Rachel Wainwright’s best friend,’ Claudia declared.
‘That’s right,’ Allyson confirmed. She didn’t want to spoil the moment by telling them that Rachel had died over ten years ago. Instead she readily accepted the glass of champagne Nick was offering her, and sat down in the chair Mark was holding out.
The two brothers were very similar to look at, she noted, both being dark-haired and dark-eyed, and both had those awkwardly chiselled features that, while not conventionally handsome, were, in her opinion, strikingly attractive. But there the similarity ended, for Nick was much shorter than Mark and carried considerably more weight. Allyson guessed he was older too, though probably not by much. There was no doubt they were close, and as they baited and rallied each other, and went out of their way to make her feel welcome, she started to relax a little and feel glad she had come. And catching up with Claudia was fun too, laughing about all the eccentricities of their teachers and bemoaning the unfairness of well-remembered and detested school rules. There were moments, though, when her mind seemed to slip out of gear and she found herself coasting around in a confusing sort of detachment as she wondered how she had come to be in this room full of strangers, many of whom knew her though she didn’t know them. It felt so odd, as though everyone else was part of a dream that she had somehow, mistakenly, stepped into.