by Rosa Temple
‘You were the mistress of Henry Bowser?’ I turned to Anya.
‘Technically I vos never a mistress. The papers got it wrong. His marriage vos over long before ve met. I’m sure I told you that at least. In fact, I met him two veeks after his declaration absolute. How could you of all people accuse me of going vith a married man? Ve don’t do affairs, Madge.’
I put my head down in shame. I walked over and sat next to Anya and put my hand on her lap.
‘Anya. I’m sorry. Maybe if you’d just come clean with me. As it was I wasn’t approached by any press and now you and I have a big rift between us and that hurts.’
She looked up. ‘I know and it hurts me, too,’ she said. ‘I guess I’m the von who’s a drama queen. I should just have told my best friend everything from the start.’
‘You have to admit you can see why I got my lines crossed,’ I said. ‘Man old enough to be your father? Divorced? Grown-up children?’
‘Oh my God, yes. Just like you guys. But be assured, Madge. Me and your father? Uh-uh.’ She shook her head and I couldn’t resist going in for a hug even if Anya didn’t want one.
‘So where do you two go from here?’ I asked her.
‘Vell, if it can stand the test of the press and all the lies and misrepresentations about Henry’s job, then ve just keep on going. I love him, Madge, and he really, really, really loves me.’
‘You know I’m dying to hear how you two actually met. I mean he is gorgeous for an older man and a politician at that.’ We stared at the screen until the presenter switched to another story.
‘Hang on,’ I said to Anya. ‘If Father wasn’t with you on Friday night, then who was he with? There was certainly a woman there and I have no idea who it was.’
‘I think I do,’ said Anya, standing. She held out her hand to me. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘It’s truth time for all of us. Me, you and your father.’
I drove us over to Bayswater, parked outside Father’s apartment block and looked up.
‘He’s in,’ I said to Anya. ‘What’s this all about? I know Father swore you to secrecy but can’t you give me a hint?’
‘That’s vot svearing to secrecy means, Madge. I didn’t like it and I begged them to tell you but they said they knew best.’
‘They?’
‘Come on.’
We took the lift up and I could hear music coming from Father’s place.
‘Oh God,’ I sighed. ‘He’s got her in there hasn’t he?’
Anya said nothing and I rang the doorbell.
Father had a big smile on his face when he answered the door until he saw Anya at my side.
‘Oh,’ he said, looking from one to the other and then stepping back to let us in. ‘Girls,’ he said ushering us in with an outstretched hand.
Anya and I gave him sideways looks. I tried to make mine as cool and deadly as Anya’s but I pretty much expected that I looked like someone who’d just swallowed a gobstopper whole.
Mother was sitting on the floor next to the fire in the lounge and stood slowly when she saw us arrive. She kissed us both.
‘Mother?’ I said with a puzzled look, my cheek to her. ‘Um, how was the retreat and what are you doing here?’ I looked at Father, assuming that the coolness in the air was because he’d already told her the worst. No one spoke for several seconds. Father turned the music off and the silence began to mount.
‘Isn’t anyone going to say anything?’ I said, looking first at Father and then at Mother. Anya put up her hands.
‘I didn’t say a vord,’ she said to them both and sat on an armchair before crossing her arms. I followed suit, sitting in the armchair opposite.
Mother sat on the floor again and Father sat on the sofa at the edge of the seat, leaning his elbows on his knees, tapping his fingers together.
‘Come on, Carl,’ Mother said. ‘Tell her the truth.’
I admired the way Mother looked so calm. I, on the other hand, was seething. Father took a deep breath.
‘Magenta,’ he said, glancing at Mother and then Anya. ‘Don’t get all worked up … I just want you to know I, well that is, your mother and I, we … well, we’re going to make another go of it.’
I sprang out of my chair with a squeal and bounded over to Father to hug him.
‘That’s the best news I … but wait what about the woman you …?’ I said. ‘Mother?’ I looked over at Mother who was smiling. She nodded and came over to us.
‘Yes, really, Magenta.’ She stroked my hair and I stood to hug her.
‘But how? When?’ I asked them.
‘Well we’ve been talking for a while now and just seeing how things went,’ Mother said. ‘We didn’t want to get your hopes up because knowing you, Magenta, you’d be calling up the florist and the cake shop to organise a wedding. All we wanted was to take it slowly and be sure.’
I turned to Father. ‘So that’s what you meant before about not wanting to disappoint me?’
‘Exactly.’ He stood and put his arm around Mother’s waist. I squealed again. ‘I had to swear poor Anya to secrecy because she saw us in a rather compromising position at the airport on our way back from LA, just before your fashion show.’
‘Which was why you and Anya were acting weird that night,’ I said doing a Miss Marple nod of the head. ‘Now it all makes sense. So, Mother, you lied to me when you said you were going on a yoga retreat at the weekend.’
‘I’m sorry I lied, but your father and I had planned a dinner to celebrate before we broke the news to everyone. You were talking about meeting for lunch, inviting me to your office party. I couldn’t exactly say I wasn’t interested.’
Mother cupped her hands around my face and pulled me in for a big mushy kiss on my nose, just like the ones she used to give me when I was five years old.
‘You have no idea how happy I am for you both,’ I said taking their hands. ‘And FYI – I will be organising your wedding. Not being pushy. Just saying, if it comes to it, I’m your girl. You know I can organise the hell out of a party.’
Mother started saying something about them not having discussed a wedding and Father was blathering on about them just living together, but in my head I could see Mother’s wedding dress, Father in a tuxedo, the sun setting over the mountain on which they would be saying their vows and their favourite band – Earth, Wind & Fire – playing their song.
PART 4
SPRING INTO SUMMER
Chapter 26
Over the winter months I was having emotional highs and lows and was trying hard to balance them out. Shearman was going from strength to strength and the company was more or less running itself. Anthony had been getting a lot of interest for his artwork and a small gallery in Kensington had offered him the space to do an exhibition. It was another great publicity opportunity. I made sure Anthony launching an artist profile in the UK coincided with the launch of our spring collection – each event being great publicity for the other.
We were contemplating another fashion show, this time in Germany as Shearman had really taken off there and we were getting more interest from other European buyers.
But like I said, while I had a lot of high points and positives happening in my life I couldn’t escape the lows.
The low points took two forms, mainly Anthony and Hugo. Whenever I found myself wondering what Anthony was thinking and how my life could be so different if only Inez wasn’t around, I would start planning my parents’ wedding in my head. I’d crowd out thoughts of Anthony and Inez by dreaming up wedding venues and bouquets. Anthony wasn’t helping at all. Very often I’d look his way and find him staring at me or he would constantly find opportunities to be in my office or call me into his.
As for thoughts of Hugo, they would very often pipe up whenever I considered how ridiculous my attraction to Anthony was. Anthony was taken but, as far as I knew, Hugo wasn’t. I’d think about the time we met and picture what he must look like ten years on. I wondered if
his hair was still spiky, if he still had the goatee or if his eyes were still that blue. Of course, I’d soon become tearful and immediately distract myself by dreaming up wedding cake and honeymoons, forcing happy images of my parents into my mind just so Hugo was well and truly out of it.
At the start of the year, Anya and her boyfriend, the disgraced politician Henry Bowser (and I could never say his name without adding the suffix ‘disgraced politician’), had given a press conference. In it they told the journalists that Anya had nothing to do with the break-up of his marriage; they told them when and how they met. Disgraced politician Henry Bowser also stated, quite firmly, that he was innocent of all allegations and until any proof was found to the contrary he’d thank the press to leave him the hell alone. He didn’t actually say ‘hell’ but I was sure that by then he could easily have summed up a choice expletive or two.
Following the conference, he gave his notice and he and Anya left the country and hadn’t been spotted by the paparazzi in weeks. Needless to say, the press lost interest in them and turned their interest to someone else – a Grammy Award winner with a story full of disgrace and secrets. Needless to say, I didn’t follow that story very much, either.
Father had given up his apartment in Bayswater and was back in the family home. He and Mother had flown to the Caribbean so that Father could sell two of his hotels, leaving him just the one in St Lucia to concern himself about. He’d established that none of his daughters wanted to be hoteliers and that owning three hotels was too much for him. He wanted to spend as much time as he could with Mother.
‘Well what date are you two going to get married?’ It was a question I asked my parents whenever I saw them.
‘Magenta, we haven’t said we would,’ Mother would insist. ‘We’ll let you know.’
‘You realise you can’t just throw these things together, Mother,’ I’d insist. ‘I’ll need plenty of time to organise your wedding if you want it done properly.’
Mother and Father would raise their eyes to the ceiling and change the subject. But that didn’t stop me planning and dreaming. I needed the possibility of my parents’ happy ever after to keep me sane. It was spring, mating season, and my bedsprings hadn’t seen much action in several long and lonely months. The thought of how loved up everyone was becoming was a happy one but only highlighted how lonely I was for male company.
One day I walked into Cassandra’s office to find Inez sitting on her desk, long legs crossed at the knees, and showing Cassandra wedding dress pictures in a magazine.
‘Oh hi, Magenta,’ she said, without even looking at me. ‘I’m meeting Anthony for lunch, surprise visit. I want to show him some of these.’ She waved the bride magazine around and out of a sense of duty I looked over her shoulder. She flicked through the pages as she and Cassandra oohed and aahed. Although why Cassandra was oohing and aahing I don’t know – she wasn’t looking at the magazine, she was looking at my reactions.
I made my excuses to leave after quickly using the photocopier in reception and slipped back upstairs. On my way I bumped into Anthony rushing down the stairs.
‘Oh, Magenta, there you are. Inez just showed up; she’s taking me to lunch.’ We stopped at a midway point on the steps.
‘Yes, I saw her,’ I said. ‘She’s in with Cassandra.’
Anthony fixed the collar of his jacket and carried on down the stairs, then stopped. ‘Er, would you like to come?’
I shook my head, no, and carried on up to my office. I sat down, elbows on my desk, chin leaning on my fists. I stared around the room and heard a text coming through. It was Tuesday, twelve-thirty, and I knew exactly who that would be. It was Hugo, checking in on me with one of his weekly texts. He’d started texting me after my call to him in December. Of course, he’d seen that as his foot in the door and while I ignored each of his texts, hoping I could get his size elevens out of my front entrance, Hugo persisted. In every text he asked how I was, was I happy and had I thought any more about seeing him – he missed me terribly, etc. etc.
On that particular day his text came at a weak moment. Marriage-hungry Inez was about to take Anthony to lunch with a bride magazine in her handbag. Anya was incognito with her lover. My parents were out of my wedding planner grasp. Thoughts of my happy ever after disappearing for good hit me like a kick to the gut.
I answered Hugo’s text.
I’m fine. Busy. How are you?
He replied:
You know? Some days better than others. Would love to see you some time.
I said:
It’s hard for me, Hugo. I just don’t know.
He said:
Just have a think. Any time you want to meet me, I’ll jump on the next train.
I said:
I’m confused. I want to see you but I think it would complicate things. I’m just not there yet.
He said:
But you want to see me?
I said (after waiting three whole minutes):
Yes
And then he called me and then I, like an idiot, answered his call.
‘So work has got you busy?’ he said.
‘Very,’ I answered.
‘Well, you know, Cumbria is beautiful at this time of year. If you wanted a break from the pace down there, I’d be very happy to show you around.’
‘So now you want me to jump on a train?’ I laughed.
‘Okay. I’ll jump on one. I’m looking up train times as we speak.’
‘Whoa,’ I said, actually holding up my hand as if he could see me. ‘Not so fast. If I remember rightly, I did a lot of things too fast with you and look what happened.’
‘You know we really don’t have to rush anything if we meet. I promise I’ll take it slow. Let’s just meet and see what happens.’
I paused a long time, taking deep breaths and blowing them away from the mouthpiece so that Hugo wouldn’t hear me and start thinking I was trying to seduce him by heavy breathing.
‘Could you give me more time to think?’ I said. ‘I know it’s been months since you first reached out but I’ve got a lot happening right now and my head isn’t straight on this.’
‘That’s fine,’ said Hugo. ‘I can wait.’
‘But haven’t you got a retreat in the rainforest you need to get back to?’
‘The rainforest isn’t going anywhere. The place is booked up until 2017 and I have a very competent manager who’s enjoying running the show without me.’
‘Sounds ideal.’
‘Well, it means my life is my own, of my own making and consequently mine to do with as I please. Just as yours is, Magenta.’
‘My life is a hell of a lot more complicated than yours appears to be. So don’t keep hounding me.’
‘I’m sorry.’ His voice was gentle.
‘Look, no more texts okay? I’ll call you when I can and then … and then we’ll just see. Okay?’
‘Absolutely, Magenta. I’ll be right on the other end of the phone.’
‘I have to go.’
‘Of course. It’s good that you’re not hanging up mid conversation this time.’ He laughed.
‘Bye, Hugo. Take care.’
‘You too.’
Once I’d hung up, I knew I’d opened the floodgates to more drama and that my desire to have a happy ever after blew my reasoning mind out of all proportion. That was my life all over, though, wasn’t it?
Chapter 27
On Saturday I was due to meet my personal trainer, Lena. I was expecting a rundown of what she’d plotted to do to her boyfriend and I was all set to tell her the latest instalment of the Hugo saga. Lena had other ideas. She rang my mobile at some ridiculous hour. Six o’clock. The six o’clock that happens in the morning. The six o’clock I only ever used to see because I was partying until then.
My vision was so blurry I could barely make out who was calling.
‘Yes? Hello? Who?’ I answered.
‘Finally!’ Lena said.
‘It’s our Saturday.’
‘Yes, I know, but Costa doesn’t open until nine.’ I yawned and looked at my bare wrist for a time check.
‘We’re doing something slightly different this time. Let me in and I’ll tell you.’
‘You mean you’re outside?’
‘Get with the programme, girl.’ Lena hung up.
I plodded my way out of my comfortable bed to buzz Lena in. I thought she’d better have a bloody good reason for acting like this or else she was toast. I immediately reconsidered that threat, knowing full well that Lena was a kick-boxing, five foot ten woman with washboard abs, insane biceps and thighs that could crush walnuts. I opened my door and Lena breezed inside wearing larger than life fluorescent pink shorts and a black bra top under a thin, Lycra hoody.
‘Isn’t it a bit chilly outside for that ensemble?’ I asked, bemused.
‘Not when you get used to it. Now go and get dressed.’ I was too tired to complain, plus Lena was far too bossy for me refuse, and I headed to the bedroom. ‘Did you ever buy the running shoes I suggested all those months ago?’ she shouted after me.
I stopped in my tracks when I heard the word ‘run’ and turned slowly.
‘Did you say run? Is – is that what you want me to do? Is that why you’re here so early?’ I stuttered.
‘Yes, yes and yes. I decided enough was enough. Why I let you talk me into cutting you so much slack I have no idea. You need to exercise, Magenta. Everyone needs it.’
‘But, Lena, you’re a hard taskmaster. I’ll never be able to keep up with you. You know that right?’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll go at your pace. This session is for you so you can recapture the joy of sweat. Now go.’ She pointed to the bedroom with a very strict finger. ‘Get ready and splash your face.’