by Jill Mansell
‘I wondered what you were doing,’ said Rufus. ‘Any plans?’
‘No.’ Dulcie made it sound as if she’d had hundreds of offers, of course, but she’d actually wanted to stay in and go out of her mind with loneliness and boredom. ‘Why?’
He said eagerly, ‘I wondered if you’d like to come to the theatre with me. They’re doing a special charity performance of the new Poliakoff with Brian Blessed.’
Dulcie was almost certain Poliakoff wasn’t her cup of tea. And she absolutely knew she hated going to the theatre.
She frowned. ‘Brian Blessed? Is he the one with the beard? I can’t stand beards.’
‘Okay,’ Rufus replied equably, after a moment’s silence. ‘Are you saying you’d prefer a night in?’
‘I’m saying I’d prefer the cinema.’ Brightening, Dulcie said, ‘The new Demi Moore film’s on at the Odeon. It’s supposed to be great.’
‘Demi Moore? Does he have a beard?’
Dulcie hesitated, wondering if Rufus was joking. ‘I’m joking,’ said Rufus.
Dulcie grinned. It wasn’t until they had arranged to meetoutside the cinema and Rufus had hung up that she realised what she’d said.
What was it Patrick used to murmur whenever she made one of her famous faux pas? ‘Dulcie, are you sure you want to be a diplomat when you grow up?’
Dulcie experienced a brief pang of guilt. Rufus, bless him, hadn’t said a word.
‘Oh my God ...’
Any faint hope she might have harboured that the remark had slipped by unnoticed was extinguished when Dulcie spotted him waiting for her on the pavement outside the Odeon.
‘You’ve shaved it off!’
Rufus shrugged and looked embarrassed, as if he hadn’t expected her to notice.
‘I’ve been meaning to for ages. When I woke up this morning I just thought today’s the day.’
‘You look so different.’ Dulcie examined his face from all angles.
Carefully casual, Rufus said, ‘Different better or different worse?’
She was lost for words. The answer was neither, his face looked ... well, naked.
But this was no time to dither. Feeling horribly responsible — because all this stuff about having done the deed this morning was clearly untrue — Dulcie reached up and touched his pink, baby-smooth jaw.
‘Much, much better. It’s brilliant. I love it. Really.’
Rufus flushed with pleasure. Dulcie, congratulating herself on having got away with it, grabbed his hand and dragged him into the plush crimson foyer.
‘Come on, we’ll be late. You don’t want anything to eat, do you?’ This as they sped past the popcorn and bags of sweets. ‘I can’t stand people stuffing their faces in cinemas; they always sound like pigs at a trough.’
Rufus, a secret popcorn addict, was already reaching into his pocket. He promptly let the wallet drop. He was out on a date with Dulcie and that was all that mattered.
‘Nor me.’
‘I just wanted to see this with my own eyes,’ said Liza at eight forty-five the next morning.
‘You and the rest of the world,’ Dulcie muttered, clearing the table and signalling Liza’s order for coffee and a bacon roll to Rufus as he headed back to the kitchen.
‘I thought he had a beard.’
Briefly, Dulcie said, ‘He did.’
Rufus emerged a couple of minutes later with Liza’s breakfast. The bacon, he assured her, was locally cured and free range; it had come from a happy pig.
‘He seems nice,’ Liza observed when he had gone.
‘He is.’ Dulcie whipped out her order pad as another table clicked their fingers at her. ‘Sorry, I’ll have to deal with this lot.’
‘You could do worse,’ said Liza.
Dulcie, shiny-faced and with the harassed air of someone rushed off their feet for the last two hours, said, ‘What, than Rufus?’ She grinned as she moved off. ‘Oh yeah, he’s really my type.’
Dulcie probably wasn’t Rufus’s type either, Liza decided twenty minutes later, but that hadn’t stopped him developing a massive crush on her.
‘Of course I’m serious,’ she repeated patiently, amazed that Dulcie could have remained so blithely unaware of the situation. What was she, blind? ‘Look at the way he looks at you. He fancies you rotten.’
Dulcie’s heart sank. Damn, she hated it when that happened. Being fancied rotten was only fun when it was mutual. ‘I thought we were just good friends.’
Sorrowfully, Liza shook her head.
‘You told him you weren’t wild about beards, didn’t you?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Think about it. If some just-goodfriend said it to you, would you shave your beard oft?’
When Eddie and Arthur appeared in the courtyard at ten thirty, Pru was already waiting in the Jag. She was wearing a sage-green cotton shirt, a narrow black skirt and black sandals. And, Eddie noticed at once, the diamond earrings from Liam.
He felt the muscles in his jaw tighten. He’d behaved like an idiot on Saturday. Whatever Pru was getting up to was her own affair, even if it was with Liam.
It’s none of my business, Eddie told himself fiercely. They’re both free agents, they can do as they like.
He watched Pru emptying the ashtray of sweet wrappers and thought, I’d never have a chance with her anyway.
Arthur leapt into the car, woofing with delight and burying his nose frantically in Pru’s handful of wrappers in search of any remaining trace of chocolate.
Eddie shoved Arthur over into the back seat. He decided to come straight to the point.
‘Look, I’m sorry I was a moody sod. Saturday was a bad day. Can we forget it happened?’
Pru looked relieved.
‘I didn’t know what I’d done wrong.’
‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’
Bloody stupid, maybe. But not wrong.
Forgiving him instantly, Pru smiled. ‘Unlike you, you mean.’
‘What?’ Eddie protested when she held up the sweet wrappers. ‘Are you saying I’m not allowed to eat?’
‘I’m saying you’re not allowed to drive.’
He looked suitably abashed.
‘Just practising for when I get my licence back.’
Pru made up her mind at that precise moment. The tentative plan she had formulated during her stay at Dulcie’s had ground to an abrupt halt on Saturday when Eddie had gone weird on her.
But now everything was back to normal ... well, why not? She covered her face with her hands and sneezed.
Then she sneezed again.
‘Sorry about this. Must be the moulting season.’ Fishing in her bag, Pru wiped her eyes with a tissue. Between sneezes, she glanced over her shoulder at a bemused Arthur then turned apologetically to Eddie.
‘It’s the dog hair. Would you mind awfully if we left him behind?’
‘You’re allergic to Arthur?’
Pru blew her nose and nodded. Looking regretful, she said, ‘It doesn’t last long. Every year I get this, just for a few days. By next week I’ll be fine, I promise.’
Without a word, Eddie opened the door again and shooed Arthur out. It wasn’t as if the dog minded; Arthur was a great favourite around Brunton Manor, not least with Lolita, the gardener’s flirtatious black and white spaniel.
Eddie, though, was hurt. He knew Pru wasn’t the world’s greatest dog lover but did she really hate Arthur that much? Because those sneezes definitely weren’t real.
It was late September but Oxford still teemed with tourists, particularly the American kind who appeared to love the place almost as much as they loved Bath. Pru, window-shopping to pass the time and take her mind off what she had planned for later, overheard a couple of undergraduates in a coffee shop discussing a mutual friend.
‘She slept with eight men last week,’ complained one. ‘I mean, is that fair? At this rate she’s going to work her way through everyone in college. There won’t be any left for the rest of us.’
‘What we’ll do,’ said the other, ‘
is put the word around that she’s HIV’
Heavens, eight men in one week. Pru, who had only slept with one man in her life, almost choked on’ her coffee.
One man, and that had only been Phil. Not much of a conquest quotient.
Still, these days you couldn’t be too careful. Sliding out ofher chair and plucking up every last molecule of courage, Pru went into Boots and bought a packet of condoms. She felt incredibly slutty doing so but — as she longed to inform the disapproving-looking old woman next to her in the queue — at least she was a safe slut.
‘Good meeting?’ said Pru when Eddie emerged from the Randolph Hotel at four thirty. The meeting had been held to discuss the setting-up of conference facilities at Brunton Manor.
Eddie nodded, yawned and chucked his heavy briefcase on to the back seat. One lousy cup of tea three hours earlier was all he’d been offered by way of refreshment. He could kill for a large whisky and soda, followed by steak and chips. After that, hot apple crumble and custard would fit the bill, finished off with a couple of Irish coffees and a decent cigar. Eddie had tried to appreciate the finer points of nouvelle cuisine but he was a Berni man at heart.
He was about to suggest this before they headed home when he remembered Pru was anxious to get back to Bath — and no prizes for guessing why. Closing his mouth again, willing himself not to imagine Pru and Liam together, Eddie fastened his seat belt, casting a surreptitious glance in the direction of Pru’s slim bare legs as he did so. He’d promised she’d be home by six. Food —
and his own happiness — would just have to wait.
Chapter 45
Ready. Steady. Go.
Nothing happened. Pru felt the adrenalin buzzing around her body like a million fireworks poised to go off, but every time she reached Go — and this was the seventh time she’d reached it
— her courage failed her.
If she didn’t act soon, she’d miss her chance completely. The M4 was already behind them. They were racing along the A46 and in less than fifteen minutes they’d be back at Brunton Manor.
Okay, this is it, Pru told herself, slowly breathing out. This time I’m really going to do it. The next side road we reach, I indicate, brake, turn off .. .
Here comes one now.
Ready. Steeeeady .. .
Her foot wouldn’t do it. It stayed glued to the accelerator and the side road zipped past them.
Turning her head helplessly, watching it go, Pru felt the back of her neck prickle with perspiration. Maybe a bit of casual conversation would help.
‘Look, that lorry’s from Andover. I don’t even know where Andover is.’
Eddie, who was wondering how long this Liam thing was likely to last, grunted and said,
‘Hampshire.’
Pru tried to think of something else to say about Andover but the more she thought of it, the smuttier the name sounded. She glanced, instead, at her reflection in the wing mirror. The earrings Liam had given her looked amazing; they really glittered in the sunlight.
Admiring her earrings and chattering on about nothing in particular, Pru decided, was a lot less fraught than all that Ready Steady Go business. Her heart was practically back to normal.
‘Will you renew Liam’s contract at the end of the season?’ she asked idly.
The effect on Eddie was astonishing.
‘For God’s sake!’ he exploded. ‘Pru, I’m sorry, I know this is none of my business but you really are making the biggest mistake OF YOUR LIFE!’
Amazed, Pru said, ‘What?’
‘Did Liam ask you to find out?’
‘No, no ...’
‘Does Dulcie know what you’re up to?’
‘Eddie,’ she shook her head, utterly bewildered by the outburst, ‘what exactly am I supposed to be up to?’
‘Oh come on,’ he seethed, the words hissing out through clenched teeth. It sounded like a radiator being bled.
‘Tell me,’ said Pru, ‘because I don’t know.’
He couldn’t look at her.
‘You and Liam.’
‘Me and Liam what?’
This was not good grammar, but she was by this time too intrigued to notice.
‘You, having an affair with him.’
‘Oops.’ Pru almost drove into the back of the lorry from Andover. She braked in the nick of time. ‘Eddie, that isn’t true!’
‘I know you are,’ Eddie said wearily.
‘Well I know I’m not. If I was,’ Pru added steadily, ‘I think I’d have noticed.’
Eddie sat up. He gave her an odd look.
‘Liam gave you those earrings, didn’t he?’
Pru said, ‘Okay, yes, he did. But I didn’t have to earn them.’
Still suspicious — though more of Liam than of Pru — Eddie said, ‘Why, then? Why would he give you a pair of diamond earrings?’
She shrugged.
‘He doesn’t know anyone else whose name begins with a P.’
The relief was phenomenal. When he rubbed his stubbly jaw, Eddie realised he was shaking.
Pru, glancing sideways at him, saw it too.
She smiled, understanding why. As if by magic, her own fears melted away. Moments later she flicked the indicator, braked and turned left, completely forgetting to go through her Ready Steady Go ritual first.
‘Where are we going?’
Pru drove on, pretending not to have heard.
‘Pru, this isn’t a short cut.’
It was a narrow country lane bordered by hedgerows eight feet high. Pru swerved to avoid a squirrel darting across the road and drove on.
‘Pm? Are you okay?’
She pulled into a gateway overlooking an empty field and switched off the ignition.
Eddie looked worried.
‘Are you going to be sick?’
‘No,’ said Pru, ‘I’m going to seduce yon.’
I can’t have heard right, thought Eddie. I must be hallucinating.
Pru turned to look at him.
‘If you’d like me to, that is.’
Eddie felt as if he’d forgotten how to breathe. He took a huge gulp of air.
‘I’m sorry, could you say that again?’
‘Which bit?’
‘The whole bit.’
‘I’m not sure I can. Anyway, I think you heard.’ Pru’s courage began to fail her. What if she’d just made the most humiliating mistake of her life? ‘Look, if you don’t want to, just shake your head and we’ll go.’
Her fingers were creeping towards the key, still swinging merrily in the ignition. Eddie launched himself across the car, grabbing her hand before she could reach it.
‘Pru, are you serious?’
The look on his face told her all she needed to know.
‘I’ve never been more serious in my life,’ said Pru, touching the side of his face with trembling fingers. She leaned over and kissed him.
Eddie, still trapped by his seatbelt, fumbled to release it. He threw his arms around her and kissed her until they were both panting and out of breath.
‘Oh, Pru, I’ve dreamed of this happening.’ There was a catch in his voice. ‘I’ve wanted to do this for so long ...’
And then, incredibly, she was climbing across the gap between the seats. As he helped her, Eddie wondered if she could hear his heart pounding against his ribs. He kissed her neck and her chin, shifting slightly to accommodate her as she sat astride him.
‘I knew I’d find a use for this one day,’ said Pru, pressing the switch to recline the seat.
Eddie’s hands stroked her bare brown legs and gasped as she wriggled herself into a more comfortable position.
Then he gasped again as he realised that beneath the short black skirt she was naked.
If this is a hallucination, thought Eddie wonderingly, I don’t care. Just don’t let it stop; whatever’s happening here, don ‘t let it stop.
Much later, when the first car drove past and gave them a jaunty toot, Pru buried her smile in the front of his shirt and s
aid, ‘I hope that wasn’t someone who recognised your Jag.’
‘I don’t care.’ Eddie couldn’t stop grinning. ‘I hope it was. I want everyone to know I’ve just been seduced in my car.’
‘By a shameless hussy,’ Pru said happily. ‘I’m sorry if I frightened you half to death. I just had to do it.’
‘Thank God you did. Oh, Pm, I do love you.’ Eddie gave her a hug. ‘I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I just never dreamt you’d be interested in me. I still can’t believe this is really happening.’ He shook his head, marvelling at the fact that it had. Then, gently pinching one of Pru’s thighs, he said, ‘And speaking of hussies, when on earth did you stop wearing knickers?’
She went pink.
‘In Oxford. I took them off in the car outside the Randolph.’
‘Good grief.’
‘I got the idea from that paperback of Dulcie’s,’ Pru confessed. ‘The one that bossy old woman nicked from me outside Elmlea nursing home.’
‘Let’s hope she doesn’t try it out too. She could give the male residents heart failure.’
Eddie stroked Pru’s ears, smoothing back her glossy dark hair.
‘What?’ The urge to flinch was strong, but she resisted it. Why was he looking at them in that way?
‘Nothing. I like your hair like that. You’ve got beautiful ears.’
Pru smiled. She knew she could tell him about the surgery; he wouldn’t laugh. But there was no need now. Another day. Reluctantly she looked at her watch.
‘I could stay here for ever, but we really should get back.’ Eddie didn’t want to.
‘Why?’
‘Houses to clean,’ she reminded him lightly. ‘Sinks to scour, floors to scrub.’
He didn’t want Pru doing that either. She shouldn’t have to. She deserved so much better.
‘Give it up,’ he said flatly.
‘Oh right, great idea, why didn’t I think of that?’ Pru laughed at the expression on his face. ‘Why pay rént when you can live in a cardboard box?’
‘Come and live with me.’