Like a slide show, her brain clicked in a succession of pictures. Riding their horses into the sunset. Bathing in a forest pool. Dancing under the stars. The touch of his lips on hers …
She was no longer angry with Edward; on the contrary, she felt only fondness for him. After such a miserable childhood, he deserved to be loved; he deserved the slavish devotion that Donna would give him. It would all end happily for everyone.
And best of all, Hank Gephart would realise Ruby Mortimer-Smyth had never loved him.
Quickly, she set out candles, and a light snack, her thoughts boomeranging from the present to the future, and back again. At one point she broke out of a trance, realising she’d been standing holding a bowl of olives and staring at the front door.
She heard a knock and opened the door.
‘I’ve finished,’ Payat told her.
‘Thank you … so much.’ She couldn’t go through with this, she just couldn’t. ‘Do you want to come in? Or maybe you need to be somewhere else?’ she added hopefully.
‘That’s okay. I’ve nowhere to be.’ He removed his coat and gave it to her. At this moment, she should be wriggling her hips seductively; instead she was so nervous she was using his coat to hide behind. He saw the snacks laid out on the coffee table. ‘Would you … um … like something to eat?’ she asked.
‘Great. Yeah.’
Everything had been prepared: candles, wine, slow music. Daylight was fading and she closed the curtains. Outside, Truman and his pals had found the unexpected mountain of snow and were having a snowball fight. In the darkness of the sitting room, the candlelight flickered. She sat beside Payat on the Queen Anne sofa. She could smell the fruity scent of his after-shave mingling with the soapy freshness of deodorant - unlike Hank Gephart who smelled as if he’d just come out of a stable.
Was Hank with Roxanne at this moment? Was he holding her like he had held her? The certainty of this pierced her like a self-administered dagger-blow.
Well, Roxanne could have him!
Hank is no gentleman, she told herself. He’s just an arrogant, conceited womaniser and like a fool, I played right into his hands. She glanced at Payat beside her. Well, Payat is different. He is sweet and sensitive. My Indian brave, my Apache Adonis, my Mohican Man.
She heard the thud of a snowball hit the window, but she wouldn’t allow Truman and his idiot pals to spoil the mood. She downed two glasses of wine for courage and listened while Payat talked about the Turquoise Trail. After a moment, he paused and gazed into his glass. ‘Edward is a lucky man.’
‘We’re separating.’ The words were out.
‘Separating?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then what will you do? Where will you go?’
‘I don’t know.’ She felt a wash of genuine panic. Up until that moment, she’d been in fantasy-land, now the reality hit hard: Payat was a total stranger.
He touched her hand. ‘Come to Taos with me.’
‘I … I …’
‘Say yes, Ruby. No commitment. We go as friends and see how it works out. And you’ll love New Mexico.’
She stared into his dark pleading eyes, and nodded. He smiled and gently traced a fingertip along her jawbone. ‘My little Katchina.’
As his arm came around her, she went rigid.
That noise?
Without moving her head, she darted a look at the fireplace. Oh, my God. Knowing she mustn’t make a sound, she cupped a hand to Payat’s ear and whispered: ‘I’ve got raccoons.’
Payat jerked back. ‘Raccoons?’
He made it sound like she had a venereal disease. Slowly, she got to her feet, tiptoed over and put her ear to the chimney piece. What she heard made her yelp.
‘You okay?’ Payat was on his feet.
She pointed at the fireplace. ‘In there!’
He opened the glass doors and reached for the flashlight on the mantle. There was the sound of scrabbling then a blur of movement as a creature lunged at her face. ‘Arghh!’ she screamed shielding her eyes.
‘It’s only a starling.’ Payat was watching the bird flap about the room. ‘We need to lure it out. Switch off the house lights, turn on the porch light and open the front door wide.’
With the house in blackness, Payat took her hand and led her to the dark corner of the hallway to wait. There was a fluttering of wings in the sitting room, the bird fearful and disorientated.
‘Katchina, you’re trembling.’ Payat held her close. ‘There’s nothing to fear.’
She felt the warmth of his arms around her and as she pressed her cheek to his chest, she felt safe. Payat would protect her. She heard a flutter of wings and looked up to see the starling fly out of the door and into the night.
‘There,’ Payat pronounced. ‘It’s gone.’
She could feel his breath on her face. Then in one movement he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the sofa.
*
The next morning, Ruby cleared away the glasses and debris of the night before, remembering Payat’s warm lips and exploratory hands. She smiled at the way she had reacted to the starling. She must have looked like a right idiot.
The telephone rang. ‘Hello?’ she answered brightly.
‘This is Sue-Ellen at the surgery. You missed your appointment.’
Appointment? Ruby had never forgotten a doctor’s appointment in her life!
‘Oh, sorry, I can’t make it today.’
‘So you want me to fix another time?’
‘No, it’s okay because … because I’m better.’
And she was! She was no longer a hypochondriac! She felt confident, in charge of her life, ready for anything.
She hummed as she pulled on her coat. Last night, Payat had covered her face with kisses. There was no going back now. She had done it! She had made a fantasy into reality. She was about to become the squaw of a Red Indian Chief!
She had considered all the practicalities. First, she would need a driver’s licence. She couldn’t exist in America without one. She grabbed her car keys and headed for the door.
At ten o’clock, she entered the Division of Vehicles. Knowing she was a good driver and having read the Kansas Driving Handbook she was quietly confident she would pass first time. She filled in a form with her name, date of birth, height and weight, and handed it over the counter.
The Amazonian black woman in pink frosted lipstick frowned at it. ‘Nine stone?’ she queried.
‘That’s correct.’
‘Honey, what’s a stone?’
‘It’s my weight,’ Ruby answered.
‘Can you give it to me in pounds?’
Ruby noticed the queue forming behind her. People craned forward, curious. ‘Um … well …’ Ruby tried to calculate it. ‘There’s sixteen ounces in a pound, fourteen pounds in a stone …. which is … um …?’
The woman heaved a sigh. ‘I don’t add well in plain American. I haven’t a prayer of mastering bilingual arithmetic.’
‘I’d figure-’ a lady had stepped out of the queue and was sizing Ruby up. ‘She’s one hundred and fifty pounds.’
‘No,’ stated another female. ‘More like one hundred and forty.’
The woman behind the eye-testing machine disagreed. ‘Take that coat off and she’s one hundred and thirty.’
Ruby was reminded of “Guess the Weight of the Turkey” at the Naunton Village Xmas Bazaar. And she was the turkey.
The women in the line and the officials behind the counter finally agreed on her weight and Ruby moved on to a desk where she was given her test paper and instructed to sit at a nearby table.
Question One: What speed should a school bus go down a dirt track of loose chippings?
10 mph? 15 mph? 20 mph?
This hadn’t been in the handbook! Knowing their law-abiding obsession, she wrote 10 mph.
Wrong.
Her test paper was returned, showing the first five answered marked with crosses. With her confidence wavering, she followed the white female
examiner to the vehicle. Thousands of times Ruby had started a car engine without even thinking about it but, now, she had to remember where to put the key and where to put her feet. Anxiety fogged her brain. The car seemed to have increased to the size of a Sherman tank, while Kansas City had shrunk to the size of Toy Town. She crawled along the main road, unnerved by the sight of the examiner writing on her clipboard. Up until that moment, Ruby had driven in America with all the panache of a New York taxi driver - now she was behaving like a teenager on her first drive.
Thirty minutes later, back at the driving centre, Ruby turned off the ignition and cushioned herself against failure.
The woman handed her a form. ‘You’ve passed.’
Grinning, Ruby took the form inside, lined up for the photograph and hey, presto! she had her very own American driver’s licence. The camera had caught her smile of triumph. And her licence stated she was one-hundred and twenty-eight pounds.
*
When she arrived home the telephone was ringing. She picked it up and put it to her ear. It was Edward.
‘Ruby!’ he wailed. ‘I can’t do it!’
‘Do what?’ Her thoughts were so full of Payat, there was no room for anything else.
‘I can’t tell her.’
‘Tell who? What?’
‘Donna. I can’t tell her I love her.’
‘What?’ Ruby croaked. ‘You can’t back out now!’ She had everything organised. Edward would stay with Donna, leaving Ruby to go off with Payat. In theory, nothing could stop her going ahead with her plans, but Edward was her best buddy and, as such, she wanted to see him settled and happy before she left.
More importantly, she wanted to avoid Vanessa’s disapproval. Vanessa had to believe it was Edward who was breaking up the marriage, not Ruby. Whatever happened, Ruby had to come out of this seeming like the innocent, injured party.
She changed tack. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she chuckled. ‘You can tell Donna.’
‘But why should she fall in love with a short balding man with ginger hair?’ He began to talk rapidly, opening out his heart, exposing his fears. Ruby understood his anxiety. She and Edward were so much alike. They’d been neglected as children and now in adulthood they couldn’t trust love; couldn’t believe that someone would love them in return.
Ruby spoke gently. ‘All you have to say is: “Donna, I love you.”’
‘I can’t.’
She sighed. ‘Wait until you get back from Orlando then ask her out for a quiet drink-’
‘No, Ruby, I can’t. I can’t go through with this. It’s not going to work.’
‘It will, Edward. Because I’m gonna make it work.’
*
Immediately after the call, Ruby dialled Donna’s number.
Donna gave a squeal of delighted surprise. ‘Ruby?’
‘Oh, Donna, I feel so guilty. I’ve been meaning to ask you over for ages. How about tomorrow night? Edward will be back from Orlando in time for dinner and I thought it would be nice if you were there, too.’
‘I’d love that more’n anything. Do you want me to bring a chocolate cake?’
‘Definitely. The dark chocolate one with the raspberry sauce in the middle and the white curls of chocolate on top?’
‘You got it.’
Ruby paused. ‘I will be wearing something elegant and sexy, so it would be nice if you wore the same sort of thing - so I don’t feel left out.’
‘You got it.’
*
The next morning, Ruby considered her plans for the day. She would phone the New Mexico Tourist Office to make enquiries about Taos - her future home. After which, she would make dinner, greet Edward and Donna, then take Rowdy for a walk leaving the two love-birds in a romantic candlelit room to declare their love for each other.
Nothing could go wrong.
She was reaching for the phone, when it rang.
It was Vanessa, her voice excited.
‘The Audrey/Brendas and I have booked a four-night break in New York for the New Year’s celebrations. Your Aunt Abigail is also coming along. It’s a last minute deal, so it’s amazingly cheap. None of us have been across the Atlantic before and we’re terribly giddy.’
‘Marvellous.’ Her stepmother sounded so happy, Ruby didn’t want to burst her bubble by asking if she had a Plan B if the Y2K bug hit.
Vanessa chuckled. ‘The Audrey/Brendas want to know if you’ve come across any handsome Red Indians.’
‘Actually, I have.’
‘Really? I’m only asking,’ Vanessa added quickly, ‘so that I can tell the girls.’
‘Tell them he’s absolutely gorgeous.’
‘Do you have a photograph you can send us?’
‘Oh, no. Nobody can photograph him. It will take away his soul.’
‘O-h-h-h, Ruby,’ Vanessa murmured in awe.
Ruby’s thoughts leaped into the future; imagining the conversation Vanessa would have with her friends.
Vanessa: I’ve just come back from New Mexico. You’ll never believe it. Ruby is the queen of the Pueblo tribe.
The Audrey/Brendas: (With a collective gasp). Tell us everything!
Vanessa: Of course I couldn’t sleep in a wigwam not with my sciatica, so I hired a Winnebago.’
The Audrey/Brendas: She lives in a wigwam?
Vanessa: And she can skin a deer. Not only that, she’s fighting the government for the return of sacred land. And her husband is chief of the tribe.
The Audrey/Brendas: Oh, my goodness! What is he like?
Vanessa: Think of George Clooney then multiply that by ten. Then add caramel-coloured skin, tattoos and sad eyes.
Ruby chuckled. The Brenda/Audreys would no longer live their lives through Claire. On the contrary! They would live their lives - totally and utterly - through Ruby.
‘Tell the girls I’ll keep them posted,’ she said gaily.
The Audrey/Brendas liked romance stories. Now they would have one – with a happy ending.
*
Ruby dialled the number of the New Mexico Tourist Office and waited. Her thoughts were like puppies released from captivity; dashing wildly in every direction. She saw Donna’s babies colour-coded in pink and beige. She saw Edward admiring a folded pile of crisp shirts lovingly ironed by Donna. She saw herself on a bed of animal furs, naked in a forest pool, sitting with Payat in the moonlight listening to the prairie dogs howling to the moon.
A woman’s voice startled her. ‘New Mexico Tourist Board. How may I help?’
‘I would like information on the Pueblo tribe, please.’
‘Sure thing. Are you visiting?’
‘Yes.’
‘Great. First off, there’s something you need to know. You can’t just walk in and take photographs of the tribe.’
‘Why? Does it take away their souls?’
‘No. You need to pay an Administration fee first.’
Ruby bounced back from this. ‘How do the people live? Do they sleep on bear skins?’
‘Turkey feathers. You don’t get bears in New Mexico.’
‘What about forest pools?’
‘You’ve been reading Hiawatha haven’t you? Tourists always make that mistake.’
I’m NOT a tourist.
‘New Mexico is a desert region,’ the woman continued. ‘Not much water.’
‘Are there any dangerous creatures?’
‘Nothing much to worry about.’
‘What about prairie dogs? Are they very vicious?’
The woman burst out laughing. Evidently, Ruby had made some sort of error but surely it was not office policy to laugh at a client? Now, the woman was telling her colleagues and they were laughing, too.
‘Honey,’ the woman was back on the line, trying to control her voice. ‘Prairie dogs are like fat hamsters. They’re nature’s snack food for almost every animal in the food chain.’
‘Thank you for your help.’
Ruby cut the call short, refusing to hear anything more from the woman and her giggl
ing band of cohorts.
*
Ruby’s plan of action was right on schedule. Edward was due to arrive home from Orlando at six o’clock. Donna would arrive at seven. Edward loved Peking Duck, so Ruby had gone out and bought a duck. Since she’d never made it before, she opened her Readers Digest, The Cookery Year and began to read:
The essence of Peking Duck is its crisp skin, which is stripped off the cooked duck and served separately. To obtain this, the skin of the uncooked duck should be thoroughly dried.
‘Okeydoke.’ She wiped it with kitchen towel and turned back to the recipe.
Wipe and dry the duck and pass a length of string under the wings so that it can be suspended from a rod or broom handle, placed across the seats of two chairs.
There should be string in the bottom drawer. She continued to read.
Rubbing the skin with alcohol aids the drying process. Direct a blast of cold air on to the rear end of the duck using an electric fan or hair dryer and leave it for at least 3-4 hours.
‘Sod it.’ She plastered it with Ranch Hand BBQ sauce and shoved it in the oven. Life was too short to weave a dead duck to the furniture and blow-dry its butt.
*
Donna was due in two hours, Edward was due in one. Ruby vacuumed up the toe nail clippings in the downstairs bathroom and-
Stop!
What was she doing?
She could no longer be the perfect wife. On the contrary. Edward had to wish he was married to someone else, namely, Donna.
Ruby removed the dust bag from the Hoover and scattered the contents over the floor.
Right.
Donna was due in one hour fifteen minutes. Edward was due in fifteen minutes. Although the food and the house were ready, Ruby was not. Since Donna had to be the star of the show, Ruby mustn’t outshine her. She pulled on a brown corduroy skirt, brown check shirt and tea-bag coloured pantyhose.
Perfect, she looked awful.
But Edward didn’t notice. He breezed in through the door, his arms wide. ‘It’s great to be home,’ he said, hugging her tight.
‘I’ve invited Donna over for dinner.’
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