Mixed doubles

by Jill Mansell

  Bibi looked confused.

  ‘You mean ...?’

  ‘I was desperate,’ said Dulcie bleakly. ‘Liam was up for itwith any woman who so much as smiled at him in the street. He couldn’t keep his tracksuit bottoms on if his life depended on it.

  But you hear about some men who are totally transformed when they become fathers,’ she ploughed on, avoiding Bibi’s gaze, ‘and ‘I thought, what if Liam’s one of them? What if it jolts him into realising he doesn’t want to lose me?’

  ‘You hoped he’d turn into Mr Ever-Faithful.’

  Dulcie nodded.

  ‘That was the plan. It didn’t work, of course. And then he found out, so it was all over between us anyway.’ She sat back in her chair and groaned. ‘I wasn’t upset about losing him. ‘I didn’t even care by that time. ‘I just can’t get over the fact that ‘I did something so awful, so pathetic and underhand. I’m so ashamed ... ‘I still can’t believe I thought it was a reasonable thing to do.’

  ‘Oh Dulcie, an unfaithful lover is enough to drive anyone to desperation,’ Bibi said consolingly.

  She leaned closer. ‘Look on the bright side. At least you didn’t shoot him.’

  Dulcie dredged up a smile.

  ‘No, there is that.’

  ‘And at least you weren’t really pregnant.’

  Dulcie’s smile did an abrupt U-turn and disappeared. ‘No, I know.’

  ‘Oh darling, what’s wrong?’ Bibi looked alarmed.

  It sounded ridiculous, but Dulcie knew she had to say this too.

  ‘Those children I told you about, the ones who sang "Silent Night" to me,’ she faltered, trying to explain. ‘It made me realise how much ‘I do want a family ... and then ‘I thought what if God decides to punish me for pretending to be pregnant? What if he makes sure ‘I never have children of my own?’

  ‘Sweetheart, you can’t possibly think that!’ exclaimed Bibi, before Dulcie’s eyes could fill up again. ‘Heavens, I’m sure God has more on his mind than your latest bit of plotting. ‘I mean, what were you doing really?’ she argued. ‘Just sussing Liam out, seeing if he’d make a good husband and father. If you look at it that way, it’s a perfectly sensible thing to do.’ With a reassuring smile, Bibi tapped her forehead. ‘Like most of your bright ideas, darling. If they come off, fine. Everybody’s happy.’

  ‘And if they don’t,’ Dulcie concluded ruefully, ‘they’re not.’

  By the time they reached the car park it was almost empty. Dulcie gave Bibi a lift home.

  ‘I’m so glad we’re friends again,’ said Bibi when they pulled up outside her house.

  ‘So am I.’

  Bibi gave her a kiss and opened the passenger door. ‘Now all we have to do is sort you out and cheer you up.’

  ‘I will cheer up, I promise.’

  Dutifully, Dulcie produced a convincing smile. Even admitting she was depressed made her feel bitterly ashamed. Compared with Liza, what the hell did she have to be depressed about?

  On her own again in the car, Dulcie switched on the radio. Whitney Houston was belting out:

  ‘And eye-eye-eye will always love y000ooo0u.’ Vividly Dulcie recalled the party she and Patrick had held at the house a couple of years ago, when all the furniture had been pushed back and everyone had got spectacularly legless on the punch she had concocted. She remembered Bibi and James dancing to this song, this very song. Bibi, her arms thrown around James’s neck, had smiled dreamily up at him and he had bent his dark head and kissed her...

  And I, Dulcie recalled with startling clarity, yelled out, ‘Ugh, no lovey-dovey stuff allowed in this house! Less of the snogging if you don’t mind.’

  She waited until the song came to an end, drove up to the traffic lights and signalled left.

  Then she changed her mind – luckily there were no other cars around – and signalled right instead.

  Chapter 53

  ‘Good grief.’ James looked astonished when he opened his front door. ‘Dulcie. Is something wrong?’

  Yes, something’s wrong, thought Dulcie, but not in the way you think.

  ‘I haven’t wrapped the car round a lamp post, if that’s what you mean. ‘I just needed to talk to you.’ She spoke brightly, as if the last year hadn’t happened. ‘Okay if I come in?’

  Bemused, James stood to one side and Dulcie slid past him, heading for the sitting room. The television was on. The coffee table in front of the sofa was littered with Christmas cards, an address book, a half-empty pack of M&S prawn sandwiches and an even emptier tumbler of Scotch.

  James’s suit jacket was flung over the back of a chair. He had undone the top button of his green and white striped shirt and loosened his tie. Dulcie watched him spin the top off a bottle of Glenfiddich and refill his glass. He paused and glanced up.

  ‘Drink?’

  ‘Better not. I’m driving.’

  James frowned slightly.

  ‘You look terrible.’

  About to get indignant Dulcie realised she still had mascara all over her face.

  ‘Can ‘I use your bathroom?’

  He shrugged.

  ‘Be my guest.’

  In the bathroom – rather nicely done out in mulberry and jade green — Dulcie washed her face, which at least stopped her looking like a madwoman, and pressed James’s wrung-out flannel over her puffy eyes. Next, she checked out the toiletries on show and had a brisk rummage through the bathroom cabinet.

  No sign of any girlie stuff. Promising.

  ‘Better,’ James remarked when she returned to the sitting room. He had made her a coffee in the meantime. As she spooned in sugar, Dulcie couldn’t help wondering if he’d heard her clunking around in his bathroom cabinet.

  ‘Thanks.’

  The cards had been pushed to one side, to make way for the tray.

  ‘Well, I’m fairly sure you didn’t knock on my door just to ask if you could use my bathroom.’

  James raised his tumbler, drank, and gave her a quizzical look. ‘So why are you here?’

  ‘I came to say sorry.’

  ‘You said it before.’

  ‘You didn’t want to hear it last time,’ said Dulcie. ‘Now I’m trying again.’

  James stood with his back to the fireplace. He was studying her, apparently deep in thought, and rubbing the heel of his hand over his close-cut beard.

  It occurred to Dulcie that he was the only man she knew who had a beard she actually liked.

  ‘Fine. Okay,’ he said at last. ‘It’s in the past. What is this anyway, some kind of guilt trip? A quest for absolution? You can’t rest until everyone whose lives you ever meddled with has forgiven you?’

  That was another thing about James, Dulcie remembered, his dry sense of humour. As in Sahara-dry. It wasn’t always easy to know when he was joking. For instance, he definitely sounded serious now, but wasn’t there just the teeniest hint of amusement in his eyes?

  Best to grovel, she decided, to be on the safe side. ‘Something like that,’ Dulcie admitted. ‘I know what ‘I did was wrong." She glanced up at James. ‘But ‘I wasn’t the only one.’ His dark eyebrows went up a couple of millimetres. ‘Oh?’

  ‘Bibi made a mistake, not telling you how old she was. My big mistake was letting you find out.’

  Bluntly, no longer penitent, she concluded, ‘And finishing with Bibi was yours.’

  James shook his head.

  ‘Oh, Dulcie, you haven’t changed.’

  ‘Actually, ‘I have.’ She risked a wry smile. ‘You wouldn’t believe it.’

  ‘Tell me why you’re really here.’

  Finishing her coffee first, Dulcie put the cup back down on the tray and picked up a handful of the envelopes James had already addressed.

  ‘Sending me one this year?’ she enquired idly.

  ‘You won’t find your name on any of those. Come to think of it,’ said James, side-tracked, ‘how did you know ‘I was living here?’

  Dulcie shrugged and carried on shuffling through the cards
. ‘Just clever. Sending one to Bibi?’

  When James didn’t reply, she looked up. His mouth was set in an ominously narrow line.

  ‘Is that why you’re here?’

  ‘It’s a good enough reason, isn’t it?’ Dulcie decided to just go for it; she — or rather Bibi — had nothing to lose. ‘James, I saw her today. And she isn’t happy. She misses you. And you know you miss her. I mean, talk about screamingly obvious.’

  James said slowly, ‘You drove over here to ask me to send Bibi a Christmas card?’

  ‘Don’t you see?’ Dulcie babbled on, really getting into her stride now. ‘You tried to forget her, you tried going out with other women — well, more like teenagers from what I hear — but it didn’t work, it couldn’t work, because they just weren’t Bibi.’

  ‘Hang on, did Liza tell you this?’ James was looking bewildered.

  ‘No, Bibi did.’

  Bibi ...?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter.’ Impatiently Dulcie brushed the interruption aside. She was on a mission; all she needed now was for James to do as he was told. Now look, you were the one who finished with her, so it’s up to you to make the first move.’

  ‘Can ‘I get you another drink?’ James’s mouth twitched with amusement as he topped up his own glass once more. He sat down on the arm of the sofa and watched Dulcie sort frenziedly through the box of as yet unwritten-on Christmas cards.

  ‘No thanks. Here, this one. And here’s a pen.’

  She was holding a glossy cherub-laden card towards him. She had even helpfully opened it out, and was pointing with his pen to the place where he should write.

  ‘My mother used to do that to me when I was seven.’

  ‘Please,’ said Dulcie. ‘It’s a start, don’t you see? Bibi’s speaking to me again. If she can break the ice with me, you can break the ice with her.’

  But James was shaking his head and turning away. Dulcie couldn’t believe it. This was his chance – he couldn’t turn it down now!

  The silver Sheaffer fountain pen went whistling past James’s head and ricocheted with a CLACKKK off the wall.

  ‘How dare you!’ Dulcie leapt recklessly to her feet, cracking both shins against the edge of the coffee table. ‘How bloody dare you?’ she yelled, outraged. ‘How can you be so stupid, so stubborn, so ... so ... oh hell, what’s that?’

  Gasping with pain, doubled up and clutching her poor bruised shins, Dulcie collapsed back on the sofa. James had taken another envelope, already stamped and addressed, down from the fireplace. Wordlessly he held it out to her.

  ‘It’s for Bibi, isn’t it?’ she groaned, feeling stupid. ‘God, James, you are so annoying. Why wasn’t it down here with the rest of them?’

  He grinned and tapped the address book on the coffee table. ‘These are the people ‘I need to look up.’ Then, pointing to the other slim stack of envelopes propped up on the fireplace, he added simply, ‘And these are the ones ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Does it give you a huge amount of pleasure to watch me make an idiot of myself?’

  ‘Huge isn’t the word for it.’

  ‘Is my card up there, then?’ said Dulcie, ever the optimist. ‘Ah,’ James’s grin broadened, ‘have to wait and see.’

  They had another drink. By this time it was getting on for ten o’clock.

  ‘You’ll be so glad you did this,’ Dulcie told him reassuringly. ‘I mean it, when Bibi gets your card, she’ll be able to send you one back. Then you can either phone her or accidentally-onpurpose bump into her ... I can arrange that if you want me to, ‘I could have a—’

  ‘Dulcie, don’t you think you should give up on the arranging front?’ James commented drily.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be an idea to let people make their own arrangements from now on?’

  Dulcie pulled a face. She was raring to go.

  ‘I know, ‘I know, but you men are so hopeless at this kind of stuff. If we leave it to you, you’ll take months to do anything. Trust me, do it my way and ‘I could have this whole thing sorted out by ... well, maybe even by Christmas!’

  ‘What if I don’t want it all sorted out by Christmas?’

  ‘You see?’ Dulcie was ready to explode with frustration. ‘That’s exactly what ‘I mean. James, please – oh!’

  She gazed down at her car keys, which had just landed unexpectedly in her lap. James was putting on his jacket and looking masterful. He slid Bibi’s card into his inside pocket, switched off the television and indicated with a brief businesslike gesture that Dulcie should shift herself, pronto, in the direction of the front door.

  Smiling at the uncomprehending look on her face, he said quietly, ‘What if I want to sort it out now?’

  Three massive Scotches had given James just enough Dutch courage to do what he had been wanting to do for months. When Dulcie pulled up outside Bibi’s house for the second time that evening she leaned across and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Go for it.’

  ‘Wish me luck.’

  ‘You don’t need luck. The two of you belong together.’

  ‘Yes, well. Thanks for the lift.’ James reached for the door catch before what felt like a nasty attack of stage fright could get a grip.

  He appeared to be one Scotch short of total confidence. ‘Got the card?’ said Dulcie.

  He patted his pocket.

  ‘Er ... yes.’

  ‘What a waste of a stamp.’

  Beginning to panic, James wondered if this was wise. Maybe he should post the thing first after all.

  Dulcie realised what was going on. He needed encouragement. Reaching past him, she flipped open the passenger door. And pushed him out.

  There were lights on inside the house and Bibi’s car was there on the drive but nobody was answering the doorbell.

  James began to feel sick. Did this mean she was too engrossed in the man who was in there with her to come to the door? Or that she had seen him climbing out of Dulcie’s car and was now hiding upstairs, cursing her daughter-in-law for getting it so spectacularly wrong again?

  Dulcie had, of course, driven off and left him to it. To get home, he would have to flag down a passing cab. Taking a deep breath, James rang the doorbell one last time.

  Finally, he heard the sound of footsteps running downstairs – ha, so she’d been in bed with him, had she? – and Bibi’s voice calling out, ‘Who is it?’

  Should he? Shouldn’t he? James hesitated.

  ‘Hello, who’s there?’

  Bloody Dulcie, taking off like a bat out of hell, leaving him stranded .. .

  ‘Bibi, it’s me.’

  The door was flung open. Bibi stood in the doorway, visibly stunned.

  She had been in the bath, James realised. Her ash-blonde hair was up in a loose topknot and damp tendrils framed her face. Her skin glowed from the heat of the bath and she was clutching the front of her white dressing gown with both hands, clinging to the lapels as if for dear life.

  ‘James! This is ... this is ...’

  ‘Unexpected. I know.’ He took a deep breath. Desperate to appear cool, he pulled the envelope from his inside pocket, realising too late that his hands were trembling. ‘Christmas card. Thought I’d deliver it in person.’

  ‘There’s a stamp on it.’

  James smiled slightly. ‘I know, but what the hell. I was passing.’

  Peering over his shoulder, Bibi said, ‘Where’s your car?’

  ‘Ah... ‘I was passing in someone else’s car.’

  He couldn’t tear his eyes from her face. She didn’t look a day older than she’d ever looked. God, she was beautiful .. .

  ‘Well, it’s nice to see you again.’ Bibi knew she sounded like a travel agent greeting an old customer. She hesitated, at a complete loss. Did James mean he was literally dropping the card off before jumping back into someone else’s car – whoever Someone Else might be – or could she invite him in for a drink?

  ‘Gosh, this is a coincidence!’ Her heart was pounding. Confused, she heard herself
beginning to babble. ‘You’ll never guess who else ‘I bumped into today! Extraordinary really, after all this time—’

  ‘Dulcie,’ said James. Bibi was as nervous as he was. Quite suddenly he knew everything was going to be all right. ‘I was passing in Dulcie’s car.’

  Bibi closed her eyes for a second, and leaned her head against the door. When she opened her eyes once more, she said shakily, ‘That girl, don’t tell me. I suppose she’s been interfering again.’

  James smiled and nodded and moved towards Bibi. He cupped her face in his hands and said in a low voice, ‘Oh yes, she’s been interfering again.’

  As Bibi fell into his arms and lifted her mouth to his, she murmured back, ‘Thank God ...’

  Chapter 54

  You knew a lot had happened in the last year, Dulcie thought wryly, when the first person to greet you at a party, shouting, ‘Oh brilliant, you’re here!’ was Imelda.

  But that was life for you. Since Liam had become a thing of the past, it had seemed a bit pointless carrying on such high-octane rivalry. Neither Dulcie nor Imelda had had the heart to maintain their feud. Some men, they decided, simply weren’t worth it.

  ‘Mwah mwah.’ Imelda clutched her now, air-kissing both cheeks and looking overjoyed to see her. ‘Quick, take your coat off and I’ll buy you a drink. You’re missing out on all the fun ... I’ve just met the most gorgeous chap ...’

  It was still weird, though. Definitely weird.

  But having been promised by Eddie that this year’s Christmas Eve party at Brunton Manor would be the best ever, Dulcie had felt obliged to turn up. Her half-hearted attempt at an excuse had been briskly squashed by Pru.

  ‘Don’t be silly, of course you’re coming,’ she had scolded. ‘And don’t give me any rubbish about wanting to avoid Liam because he won’t even be there. He’s skiing in Zermatt.’

  In the end Dulcie had decided to make the best of it. Sometimes you just had to put on your party face and best frock, drum up a bit of enthusiasm and go for it. Maybe – who knows? – if she tried hard enough, she might end up having a good time after all.