‘Have a nice walk, Terence,’ she purred. ‘Aye, I will,’ he said, surprised by her change of mood. He took the leads. ‘Thanks.’
‘And I wondered, would you like to do something tonight? Only my husband’s still away and I thought … we could go out.’
‘Aye, we could.’ He brightened. ‘We could get a bite to eat, like. That’d be grand.’
He rubbed the doorframe feverishly with his fingertip, eyeing her speculatively. Lucinda fought her instinct to remove his grubby hand from her paintwork, and pinned on a smile instead.
‘Yes, that would be … grand.’
Later that evening, in a shimmering, low-cut Ungaro gown, she swept into the eatery on his arm.
‘’Ave you ever been to an ’Arvester before?’ he enquired, proudly pulling her chair out for her.
‘No, never.’
‘Only I wouldn’t want you to be spotted, like.’ Lucinda gazed around at the simple polyester-clad folk, who appeared to be helping themselves at something called a salad bar.
‘I don’t think there’s any danger of that,’ she murmured. The evening grew even more novel as Lucinda was
encouraged to wander around, join queues and use tongs. As she returned to her seat to toy listlessly with a lettuce leaf, Terence sat down opposite her, aghast.
‘Is that all you want, lass?’
Lucinda blinked at the tottering pagoda of sausage, beans, chips, eggs, beans and more beans on Terence’s plate.
‘By ’eck, you can ’ave as much as you like! It’s all the same price.’
‘Thank you, Terence. This is sufficient.’
As she sipped her mineral water, she wondered nervously what such a colossal helping of fibre would do to his performance later? Would the duvet literally hover?
As it transpired however, her fears were groundless. Once she’d led him to the suite of her choice at the Savoy and shut the door firmly behind them, although unnerved that Terence insisted on removing her Ungaro gown over her head – ‘Arms up, luv!’ – instead of letting it drop gracefully to the floor, when he dropped his trousers all was forgiven.
He advanced towards her, staggeringly priapic, and spectacularly hirsute, too, Lucinda thought, marvelling. He turned for a moment to toss his socks on a chair and Lucinda’s eyes popped in astonishment. Why, even his backside bristled, like Neanderthal man! Playfully she reached out and grasped his furry –
‘Mum!’
I jumped, hands flying, and knocked my coffee cup for six.
‘Shit!’
Desperately mopping the keyboard with the bottom of my T-shirt, I turned to find Flora’s astonished face in the doorway behind me. I shielded the screen, at the same time trying frantic
ally to wipe up. ‘What?’ I yelled. ‘Clare’s on the phone, that’s all. Why are you so jumpy?’
‘I’m not!’ I bellowed. ‘I’m just trying to work, that’s all. Can’t anyone leave me in peace just for five minutes? God, constant interruption!’
‘Sorry,’ she said sarcastically, letting the door slam. Then, ‘Stressy or what?’ I heard as she went up the garden path.
I hesitated for a moment, then flicked off the computer and flew after her.
‘Sorry, darling,’ I panted as I caught up with her. ‘I was just a bit – you know. Into it, that’s all.’
She flashed me a smile. ‘’S all right. Thought maybe you were in the middle of a steamy sex scene or something.’
‘Ha!’ I attempted a hollow laugh. ‘As if I’d know about that.’
‘Well, I should jolly well hope you do,’ she retorted as she wandered back in the direction of the garage to resume her table-tennis game with Tod. ‘Or something’s going badly wrong,’ she called over her shoulder with a grin.
I watched her go, pausing for a moment on the back step to bite my thumbnail. It was getting a lot of attention these days. Then I went through to the hall and picked up the phone.
‘Hello,’ I said absently. ‘Oh Annie, sorry. I know Flora said you were working, but I just wondered … only she mentioned you’d seen Theo at Tintagel and –’
‘Oh, yes! No, you’re fine, Clare. In the clear.’
‘You mean –’
‘I did talk to him, and no, you didn’t sleep with him. You did throw up over him, though.’
‘I didn’t!’ she gasped, as I simultaneously heard a small cough behind me. I swung around. Matt’s door was ajar. I cringed. Damn.
‘You did,’ I hissed, turning back, ‘but listen, have you spoken to Michael?’
‘No, but I’m about to write to him. What d’you think?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Thought I could – you know – express myself better on paper. Grovel more. Any tips?’
‘Not really, but for heaven’s sake be sure to mention that nothing went on between you and Theo. Believe me, it’ll make a big difference. Husbands are funny about their wives’ fidelity. For all Michael’s posturing about you being a pain in the tubes to live with and it being the straw that broke the camel’s back, de-da, de-da, take it from me, this is all about whether or not you bonked Theo Todd.’
There was a pause. ‘You’re getting awfully perceptive in your old age.’
‘It’s this writing lark.’ I sighed. ‘Makes me think far too clearly. And, Clare, if you don’t mind I’ll ring you later for a chat, I was in the middle of it when you rang.’
‘Sorry, yes, you go. We’ll speak later. And Mum sends her love.’
As I put the phone down I could have kicked myself. Damn. I could have had a quick word with Mum, since she was clearly sitting close by, waiting to have the receiver passed on. It was just … if I didn’t get back to Lucinda, I’d start thinking about my own life again, and that would be fatal. The phone rang again. I snatched it up, guilt making me irritated.
‘Hello?’ I barked. There was a pause. ‘Oh, uh, can I speak with Matt, please?’ It was a girl’s voice. American. ‘It’s Louise.’
‘Oh. Er, yes, just a minute.’ Embarrassed, I went to Matt’s door. Knocked, then pushed through. Empty. He’d obviously decided to vacate while I was on the phone. I went to the back door.
‘Matt!’ I yelled down the garden. No response. I went back to the phone.
‘He doesn’t seem to be about, can I take a message?’
‘Yes, would you tell him I called, and have Tod please call his mom?’
‘Have Tod call his mom. Mum. OK.’
‘Only it’s kind of complicated …’ She hesitated. ‘Oh! Oh no, it’s OK, I know all about that,’ I assured her quickly. ‘About Tod not being with you, and being here instead.’
‘You do?’ She sounded surprised. ‘Oh, OK. Well, Madeleine called a moment ago, and I told her he’d gone for a bike ride with my son, but that he’d call her right back, so …’
‘Yes, no, I see. I’ll pass that message on,’ I assured her. ‘Thank you.’ She sounded relieved.
She sounded nice, too, I thought as I hung up. Louise. Matt’s cousin, married to Tom the doctor. I wondered what the rest of the family was like. Parents; brothers and sisters. What sort of a house they all grew up in. And at a time when I should have been consumed with worry about my fiancé’s career, I found myself wondering about her, too. Madeleine. I had a terrible urge to go into Matt’s study and look for a picture. Rifle through the jacket hanging on the back of his chair and see if I could find an ancient family snap hidden in his wallet. Happily though, the moment passed and, turning on my heel, I went doggedly back to work.
Chapter Twenty
That evening, Flora and Tod were clamouring for a fishing trip and a campfire on the beach again. Matt and I exchanged the briefest of glances. Almost by tacit consent we’d avoided each other for most of the day, but now he was at the kitchen table reading the newspaper, and I was at the sink, washing up pans that seemed to have accumulated again. Tod and Flora were eating crisps on the back step.
‘Come on, Dad, let’s go down and get a fire going.’
‘I don’t think so, guys
,’ he said quietly, not looking up from his paper.
‘No,’ I muttered. ‘Not tonight.’
Definitely not tonight, I thought as I scrubbed the living daylights out of a saucepan. Not a cosy beach barbecue. I didn’t want to be alone with him under the stars, gazing into the embers when the children had gone to bed. Interesting that he should feel that way too.
‘Oh Mum, come on, it was fun last time!’
‘No, Flora, we’ll eat here, at the house,’ I said firmly. ‘Well, let’s at least have a barbecue out in the garden,’ said Tod.
I busied myself in the sink. Didn’t look at Matt. ‘Sure,’ he said lightly. ‘We can do that. I’ll go get some steaks.’ He reached over my head to the shelf where his car keys hung on a hook. The sleeve of his jumper inadvertently brushed my hair. I carried on scrubbing as if my life depended on it.
In the event though, that plan seemed to strike the right chord. We sat, just outside the back door, plates on our laps, the children’s music playing loudly through the open French windows, in a friendly, relaxed way, but without a hint of atmosphere. And then later on, I told myself, when the children had gone to bed, I’d give a big yawn, stand up and mutter something about having an early night, bid Matt a breezy goodnight, and skip up the stairs after them. Matt seemed equally keen to keep things light and convivial; he joked around with Flora and Tod as we let them cook for us, complaining we’d be dead soon if they didn’t feed us. Finally, with a fanfare, the food arrived.
‘I’ve got half a cow here,’ I observed, picking up an enormous T-bone steak in two hands.
‘No point lighting the thing for a few chipolatas and a potato like a bullet.’
‘Ah. You’ve been to a few English barbecues then.’
He grinned and perched on the back step, balancing his plate on his knees. ‘My cousin’s husband, Tom, likes to look mean in the garden with prongs and meths. Hell of a nice guy, but boy, does he go to some lengths to produce a burnt chicken leg. I reckon I’ve been closer to salmon-ella in his back yard than anywhere else.’
‘Tom who’s married to Louise?’ I asked, even though I knew. ‘The one I spoke to earlier?’
‘That’s it.’
‘She sounded nice.’
‘She is.’ He wiped his mouth with a finger. ‘Known her for ever. Grew up with her in the same neighbourhood, just a couple of blocks away. Our moms are sisters. Real close.’
‘And she married an Englishman?’
‘She married an Englishman. Who’d gone out to the States to get a research fellowship. Louise was his lab technician. He took her back home along with his fellowship. Our loss, his gain. That was fifteen years ago. Now they have four kids, and a wonderful beach house right here on these cliffs, around the coast at Trebarwith. You’d love it.’
‘Which is,’ I said, glancing at Tod who was out of ear-shot, turning some peppers on the barbecue with Flora, ‘where Tod is supposed to be now?’
‘Exactly.’
‘How much longer have you got him for then?’
‘Just a couple more days. Louise is coming to get him on Thursday. He’ll have a day with her boys, then back to Cambridge.’
‘And Madeleine will be none the wiser?’
‘Nope.’ He stabbed a forkful of salad viciously. ‘You’ll miss him,’ I said at length. ‘I mean, having spent all this time with him. Having him around.’
He glanced up. ‘I miss him, period.’
‘Of course,’ I said quickly. ‘Course you do.’ Stupid, Annie. A silence ensued. I looked at Tod, small and blond, joking with Flora as they pretended to joust with kebab sticks.
Tod caught my eye and brandished a kebab. ‘More peppers?’
I smiled. ‘No thanks, but your dad will eat them, I’m sure.’
‘Pile them on,’ said Matt, holding up his hands. ‘Oh, OK, six of ’em, and a stack of mushrooms too. I’ll do my best.’
I waited until Tod was out of earshot again. ‘And that’s where you met Gertrude? At Tom and Louise’s?’
‘That’s it. Two summers ago, when she was down. Tom and Louise had her come over. Tom had known her late husband pretty well, he’d done some work ex -perience with him as a medical student at Oxford, before he decided to go into research. A brilliant man by all accounts.’
‘Tom? Or Hugh?’
‘Well, both, but I meant Hugh.’
‘Yes. Yes, he was,’ I mused. ‘Which may be … half the problem,’ I said sadly.
He looked at me. The children had finished their steaks and were busy burning bananas in tin foil.
‘Whose problem?’
I shook my head. Swallowed. ‘Nothing. I shouldn’t have said that.’
Matt laid his plate aside and narrowed his eyes into the setting sun. It burned a full half-circle on the horizon, like a giant red eye above the trees, out at sea.
‘Annie, I couldn’t help noticing David left in one hell of a hurry this morning. You want to tell me about that?’
‘Yes, he … had things to do. In London. He, um –’
‘Because if not, don’t bother. You see I can already detect a half-baked lie forming on your lips and I gotta tell you, I can spot it a mile off.’
I smiled, despite myself. ‘You know me too well already.’ He didn’t reply to that. In the event, I broke the silence.
‘Well, OK. David misdiagnosed a patient who ended up having a heart attack and dying.’
Matt calmly wiped some bread around his plate. ‘He’s not the first doctor to do that, and he sure as hell won’t be the last.’
‘No, but there have been others. Other mistakes.’
‘Lots of others?’
I put my plate on the grass. Found myself flushing. ‘Not … lots, but enough for him to be worried. Very worried. And, Matt’ – I turned to face him – ‘that’s what bothered me more than anything about last night. His reaction. I really couldn’t care less if he loses his job, but he took it so badly. And David’s usually so cool, so collected. He completely went to pieces. Really broke down.’
‘Cried?’
‘Well …’ I hesitated. Felt disloyal. ‘Yes, actually.’
He shrugged. ‘For some calm, collected people that acts as a release. We all do it, it’s just you’re not used to seeing it in David.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed quickly, relieved. ‘Yes, you’re right. I’m sure that’s it.’
‘Are you sure,’ he said carefully, ‘it wasn’t your reaction that bothered you? How it felt to see him like that?’
I lowered my eyes, ashamed. ‘Yes, that too. It unnerved me. But the awful thing is that even before it happened, before his solici
tor rang with the news last night, I was unsettled by my feelings towards him in so many ways. I … can’t explain, really.’
I pulled savagely at some dandelions growing by my chair, tugging them up by the roots. I felt awful. It was so treacherous sitting here discussing David, yet, in another way, it seemed Matt was the only person I could do it with.
‘How were you when you met David?’ Matt asked, watching as Tod and Flora started a sword fight with barbecue tongs. ‘Steady, guys.’
I glanced up. ‘How was I?’
‘Yeah. I mean, how did it happen?’
‘Oh. He saved me from sudden death.’ I grinned. ‘Pushed me out of the way of some falling glass. But not just that. He saved me from myself, too. I was a mess when I met David. Exhausted, underslept – frankly in an abject state. Still grieving for Adam. I mean really grieving. Not eating properly, getting sick, going under, almost at rock bottom, basically.’
‘And now you’re better.’
‘Well, yes,’ I said uncomfortably. ‘Thanks to David. He saved both of us. Me and Flora. And now he needs me,’ I said determinedly. ‘And I’m going to be there for him.’
‘Just at a time when perhaps you were ready to move on.’
‘No. Of course not!’
‘Annie, sick people need to be saved sometimes, but savers often need to
do the saving. They need to be those people who rehabilitate others. As doctors we have to walk around ourselves very carefully, scrutinize ourselves from every angle and examine our motives. Would we be happy, for example, if Jesus Christ strolled through a ward and cured everyone? Or pissed off cos we had no one left to heal?’
I laughed nervously. ‘Are you suggesting that that’s what attracted him to me? The fact that I was a wreck? A bit of a basket-case? That’s balls.’
He shrugged. ‘Vulnerability can be awfully attractive. To some people. Not to others.’ He looked at me steadily. ‘For some people it’s a turn-off.’
‘You mean me.’ I reddened. ‘It’s not that I find him unattractive now that he’s down,’ I said angrily. ‘That’s awful. An awful thing to say!’
‘Night, Mum.’ I jumped. Flora was at my elbow, bending to kiss me. I hadn’t heard her come up behind me. Sensing an atmosphere, she glanced from me to Matt, unsure.
‘Night darling,’ I said quickly, recovering. ‘You’re going up early.’
She looked at my watch. ‘I know, but I’m bushed. So’s Tod. And anyway, we might get up early tomorrow to go water-skiing. The boat leaves the jetty at nine.’
‘OK, darling.’
I kissed her and felt angry tears welling. I turned away from Matt to hide them, pretending I was watching Flora go into the house. After a moment Tod followed suit, and we heard his footsteps echoing up to the attic, then his door closing.
‘I’m not saying you find him unattractive because he’s down,’ Matt said in a low voice. ‘I’m sure that’s not the case. I’m saying you’re a different person now than when you first met him.’
I fought hard with this, but it was undeniable. I had changed. I was stronger, happier, but surely that was because of him? Because of David?
The Wedding Day Page 27