by Nicola Slade
For the next hour or two Finn brooded about the stranger. Did she know Charlie? Could she perhaps provide answers to Finn’s increasingly urgent questions. Maybe she knew the mysteriously absent wife that Charlie insisted he’d never had, while others were so sure he had. I’ll just mention her to Charlie, she decided, then a minute later, changed her mind. Maybe not, not just yet.
Julia broke into her anxious musing.
‘Did you know that girl?’ she asked curiously. ‘You know, the one who flashed her knickers at daddy so he’d buy her a pretty plaything?’
In spite of her forebodings Finn giggled.
‘He wasn’t Daddy,’ she argued. ‘He had to be her husband, the way he was doting on her. Though you might be right, sugar daddy perhaps. And no, I’ve never seen her before but I have a feeling she might know Charlie; I spotted her watching him as he left – with a very sneaky look on her face.’
‘Do you want me to have a word with Jamie, about Charlie I mean?’ Julia was sympathetic.
‘Oh God, no!’ Finn was vehement. ‘That’s the last thing I must do, he’s got so many no-go areas, I daren’t start prying. No, whatever it is, I think he’ll tell me – eventually. I know he’s been badly hurt, I’m certain of that, so it’ll take time for him to trust me enough.’
‘Well done, people.’ Delia was jubilant at the end of the fair as they packed up their remaining goods. ‘After subtracting the cost of hiring two tables, we’ve taken nearly seven hundred and fifty pounds! It’s absolutely magnificent.’
The expressions on the faces of the regular stallholders bore this out, they were all pea-green with a seething envy, but Delia resolutely ignored them and gathered her troops about her as she continued.
‘Although we’ve all been absolute slaves it’s mostly down to one person.’ She smiled kindly at Ursula who had turned an unbecoming shade of brick. ‘Ursula’s Royal Worcester vases kick-started us off well when Julia sold three of them to a London dealer for a hundred and fifty pounds each. What with them and with Hugh’s pieces of Wedgwood I think the punters were so impressed by the quality of our goods that they bought indiscriminately. Well done, again, folks.’
She hadn’t finished with them and just as the gang tried to slope off home Delia struck again.
‘Just one thing, chaps,’ she said in a wheedling tone. ‘I thought of another little fund-raiser. I’m proposing to hold a house-warming party at Daisy Cottage next Saturday evening and I thought, as so many people seem to remember my husband’s extremely boring television series about historic homes, I could turn it to good use, so I’ll lay out all his books and notes and stuff and we’ll have a – what shall I call it? A salon? A conversazione? All you have to do is provide some food and invite at least two other people. I’ll supply the drink and we’ll charge ten pounds a head.’
There was a chorus of groans, mingled with curiosity to see what Delia had done with her house. Some of them remembered Guy Muncaster’s pontifications in his television programmes. “Absolute integrity and faithfulness to period is imperative,” he had thundered at them, week after week. Had Delia been imbued with the same ideals?
‘I’ll give you detailed instructions tomorrow,’ she announced briskly, taking no notice of their whinges. ‘In the meantime, you’d better get those invitations out. Seven-thirty for eight, Saturday night, drink, food and conversation, what more could anybody want?’
Glumly the group dispersed. Julia dropped Jamie off at home with a loving kiss and she and Finn repaired to her kitchen to share a frozen pizza. They were just clearing away the debris when Sue Merrill rang the front door bell.
‘Sue?’ Julia was warmly welcoming. ‘Come on in, Finn and I have just opened a bottle of Chilean Merlot, come and join us.’
She poured another glass and the three women settled in Julia’s comfortable, shabby old leather sofas. Finn was intrigued by Sue Merrill, only a couple of years younger than herself but a generation older in manner and outlook. Julia had told her of Sue’s introduction to the first meeting of the group. Lonely? Yes, I can believe that, she thought idly, wondering how Charlie was getting on.
‘I need your advice, Julia.’ Sue came to the point abruptly.
‘Shall I go?’ Finn half rose but Sue waved her back to her seat.
‘No, of course not, you might have some ideas too.’ She sat in silence for a while as Julia and Finn exchanged raised eyebrows. At last she had obviously come to a decision and looked up at them.
‘I want to know if you think I ought to leave my husband,’ she said baldly. ‘Oh, I know it’s not something anyone else can decide for me,’ she continued as they both murmured in surprise. ‘It’s just … I’ve never talked about it to anyone and it’s festering away inside. I’ll tell you the situation. When we first met, Julia, at that initial meeting, I said something like my husband and I lead separate lives.’
Julia nodded encouragingly and Sue carried on.
‘It’s true enough, but it’s only recently. When I went to that first meeting I’d only just found out. I think if I hadn’t come across you – all of you – I might have gone completely under, but you saved me, so much so that I think I might have enough strength to finish it properly.’
She lapsed into that brooding silence again until Julia prompted her gently.
‘What was it that you’d only just found out, Sue?’ she asked quietly.
‘That Philip had a mistress,’ came the answer. ‘He’d been carrying on with her for a year. She’s his secretary and he thought it would be nice and tidy if I got myself a lover and maybe we could all set up house together. That way he and I needn’t separate, which would be a pity as he’s still fond of me.’
‘You mean that way he could have his cake and eat it?’ Finn’s indignation was explosive. ‘Of course you should leave him, Sue, he’s a complete shit!’ She described her own experience with Luc and her handling of it.
‘It’s different for you,’ Sue argued, though she had brightened with interest at the story. ‘You’re beautiful and confident, and you weren’t married.’
‘Sue’s got a point.’ Julia raised her hand to stem further arguments from Finn. ‘You weren’t even living with Luc. It’s more of a mess when there’s property and legal things involved. But honestly, Sue,’ she turned her sympathetic smile on to the other woman, ‘don’t think about that. The main thing is how you feel about it. For a start, do you still love him?’
Sue looked startled.
‘D’you know, I don’t think I do,’ she seemed absurdly surprised. ‘I did, but when he came out with his confession I think it all started to fall away. What hurt me so much was that he told me he’d fallen in love with her and that it was vastly different from anything he’d ever felt for me. But now I think he was right; we just drifted into marriage because we’d been going out together for a year or two and it seemed the thing to do, everyone expected it, even us. The other thing that really upset me …’ She glowered resentfully at Julia and Finn who were listening to her, open-mouthed. ‘The really horrible thing is that he said she’s fantastic in bed, in contrast to when he was with me. I should have retaliated and told him I never had much fun in bed with him either; trouble is, I’ve no other experience to compare it with.’
Finn and Julia exchanged glances again but Sue carried on unhappily.
‘In fact, the last time I had an orgasm was …’ She counted off on her fingers while her audience stared in even more fascinated sympathy. ‘Let me see, it was when we went to Italy for a holiday, that’s two years and four months ago, almost to the day.’ She stuck out her bottom lip in sulky misery. ‘And that was self-inflicted,’ she said with a final surly flourish.
The two sisters gazed at her and then at each other, both struck at the same time by the bathos and absurdity of her final remark. Julia looked down hastily as she saw Finn’s lips quiver in spite of herself, but it was too late and they both burst into involuntary giggles.
‘Don’t be angry, Sue.’ J
ulia leapt up and flung her arms round her affronted friend. ‘We’re not laughing at you, honestly. I know you’re in a horrible situation. It’s just that it sounds so bizarre.’
Sue stopped bridling at their reception of her sorry tale and managed a wan smile.
‘You’re right,’ she admitted eventually as she rose and shrugged into her coat. ‘I might as well laugh, crying doesn’t work. Thanks, Julia and you too, Finn, it’s been a help to talk it over though I still don’t know what I’ll do about it.’
She picked up her bag and went to the front door looking resolute.
‘I know what I’m going to do now, though,’ she told them as they said goodnight. ‘I’m going straight home and I’m going to knit myself an orgasm. You’re quite right to laugh, that’s something I can do for myself at least.’
Chapter 10
True to her word Delia was ready the next day with a draft of her master plan for what she insisted on calling her “conversazione” to be held on the following Saturday.
‘Here we are.’ She dropped in on Julia just before lunch. ‘I’ve put in my order with Threshers but I suppose you lesser mortals will need to stuff your faces. I’ve done a rough list that shouldn’t tax anyone’s capabilities, see what you think. I mean, I know Jonathan won’t dare to do much in case that vulture of a wife of his cottons on, but I should think he could rise to some packets of salted peanuts and crisps, wouldn’t you? Marek, on the other hand, loves to cook so I’ve suggested he produce something interesting and Polish.
‘I’m working on a rough estimate of about forty people. Yes,’ Julia gasped, ‘I know it sounds a lot but if you count Finn and Charlie there are twelve of us, so if we all invite at least two other guests, and possibly more, there you are.’ She consulted her list. ‘I thought you could rustle up something wholesome and hearty like a couple of enormous shepherd’s pies or lasagnes, just the thing for an autumn evening, don’t you agree? I know we’re past Halloween but maybe somebody could make a pumpkin pie?’
‘Just give everyone a definite dish to make,’ suggested Julia. ‘And tell them how many it has to feed. You’re making things too complicated by letting people choose. I agree about Jonathan, but equally he can afford a catering box of crisps and ditto peanuts. And Marek’s a superb cook, you’re right about him too. He makes a fantastic goulash; I know it’s not strictly speaking Polish, but it’s his party piece. Just don’t insult him by mentioning the cost or he’ll go off into one of his Slav sulks. Tell him you’re relying on him to help out and ask him to cook up enough for forty people – he’ll be thrilled.
‘Let’s have a look at your plan. Hmm, can Ursula cook? Yes, of course she can, she said she can bake, so ask her to make you some apple pies, she’s got apple trees. As long as Henrietta doesn’t take it into her head to interfere, mind you. She seems to be letting Ursula do as she pleases these days, maybe she’s getting senile. Still, long may it last.’
‘I’ve put Rosemary down for a couple of bowls of green salad and French bread,’ Delia pointed to her list. ‘Whatever’s going to happen with Margot, Rosemary won’t want to think about food at present. Have you spoken to her yet?’
‘I rang last night,’ Julia told her. ‘And this morning, twice, but I just got the machine. I thought I’d wander over in a minute and take some of this quiche as an excuse.’
Delia approved this subterfuge and set off on her provisioning mission as Julia picked up her offering and crossed the green to Rosemary’s bungalow.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ was her friend’s ungracious greeting, then she pulled herself together. ‘Sorry, Julia, I must sound awful. It’s just that I was expecting the doctor.’
‘Is Margot worse?’ Julia deposited the quiche in the kitchen and looked quickly at Rosemary. ‘I tried to get hold of you last night but there were no lights in the house and you weren’t taking calls so I thought you must have managed to get some sleep.’
Rosemary shook her head dazedly.
‘You heard about Margot’s funny five minutes, I suppose?’
‘Uh-huh, Delia and Hugh told me. A fainting fit, wasn’t it?’
‘Something like that, but she fainted again.’ Rosemary ran worried fingers through her hair and after another thoughtful look at her, Julia delved into the cutlery drawer and handed her the plate of quiche and a knife and fork.
‘Eat that,’ she ordered. ‘No, I’ve had my lunch already, I was hungry. I brought over enough for you and Margot but she can wait, you probably haven’t eaten all day. Go on, eat up, you’ll do better with something inside you.’
Rosemary was too tired to argue but when she had finished up the last crumb she managed a faint smile.
‘Okay, you win, I do feel a bit better.’ Her face twisted and she resolutely banished her sombre thoughts. ‘Tell me about the antiques fair and about you and Jamie. Did you …?’
‘Certainly did,’ Julia grinned smugly. ‘In fact I’m wondering if the tabloids would buy my sordid story? That would bring us in some money, wouldn’t it? I can see the headlines now – “OAP Sex Romps in Sleepy Hampshire Market Town”!’
‘Absolutely not.’ Rosemary was roused from her own introspection. ‘And don’t suggest we have an Anne Summers party to raise funds either, I can’t cope with the image of Delia as a dominatrix in crotchless knickers!’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Julia began, but just then Rosemary’s face crumpled and a dry sob escaped her. When Julia moved to comfort her she shook her head.
‘No don’t, please, I can’t afford to get maudlin. But, oh God, Julia, it’s been wretched.’
‘Tell me,’ invited Julia, confining herself to a friendly pat on the shoulder.
‘Well, I’d told her she was going to Delia’s for a couple of hours, that’s what I’d agreed to though Delia offered to babysit for the whole day; she’s one of the kindest people I know, under that hard-boiled exterior. Margot was quite pleased. She likes Delia and she was dying to see inside Daisy Cottage, as we all are, so she was feeling quite complacent that she’d be the first person in the village to get a guided tour.’
She sighed but carried on in a quiet, unemotional tone.
‘She was really quite well, talking normally, taking an interest and then, of course, she insisted on having a dress rehearsal for the visit. I tried to talk her out of it but you know what she’s like when she’s with it – a stickler for “doing the right thing”? So I thought I might as well let her get on with it, the full works, the Barbara Cartland treatment, and she was so pleased with herself when she’d done. I sat her in the kitchen while I started on the meal for Hugh and me; I told you he came round with champagne Saturday afternoon, and I invited him for dinner? Well, I was wondering how soon I could get her to bed but I didn’t want to rush her. Hugh wasn’t due for an hour and anyway, we were getting on well, for once, having a reasonably rational conversation. Then all of a sudden she went quiet and kind of slid off her chair.
‘I managed to catch her but she was all floppy so I got her into the sitting room and laid her on the settee, then I called the doctor. It was a locum and he wasn’t interested, just said I’d better call an ambulance when he heard her age. Of course, by the time the ambulance arrived, the same time as Hugh turned up, she’d come round and was as perky as ever, perkier than normal in fact, so I felt a complete idiot. I convinced them I could manage and they left, rather in a huff, so I went upstairs to get Margot’s bed ready, leaving Hugh with a drink, keeping an eye on her. When I came downstairs again …’
Her voice tailed off and she looked at Julia with tragic eyes.
‘Well, you can guess, can’t you? That’s right, she’d managed to strip down to her bra, which she’d put on over her vest in the first place, and back to front, and she was offering to give him a blow job!’
Julia let out a shocked peal of laughter.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Rosemary,’ she apologised. ‘You know me, no sense of decorum. So that’s why Hugh was looking so upset yesterday when
he turned up at the antiques fair. He just wouldn’t be able to handle anything like that, and no wonder.’ Jamie would, though, she thought with secret pride. He’d be quite charming but firm and get her dressed again into the bargain. Oh, poor old Rosemary.
‘So how is she today?’ she asked as once again she took over her friend’s kitchen, this time to make a pot of tea.
To her surprise Rosemary also began to giggle.
‘She was a perfect lamb this morning, let me wash and dress her without a murmur, but then I couldn’t for the life of me work out what she’d done with her teeth. They weren’t on her bedside table and at first she wouldn’t co-operate. Then she suddenly reached under her pillow and brandished them at me, snapping them like a crocodile and saying: Gottle o’ gear, gottle o’ gear!’
She sighed and wiped away a tear before she continued.
‘Once I managed to get the teeth in her mouth she was full of fun, really laughing at her own joke and remembering – as I did – that she’d always told me about her own grandmother playing the same trick when she was a little girl. Just for a while we were back as we used to be. She was always a great one for jokes when I was young.’
Her voice cracked and fortunately, just at that moment, the front door bell rang.
‘I’ll just take down some details,’ said the young woman doctor briskly. ‘Your friend? Oh, hi there, Julia, how are you? No, of course I don’t mind, in fact I’m glad you’ve got someone to give you a hand. Now, what I don’t understand, Miss Clavering, is why you’ve never got in touch with social services about your mother? I know my predecessor organised the day centre for her, but he doesn’t seem to have done anything else. Was that the case or did you turn down any more offers of help? You could have been getting all kinds more assistance with your mother, you know.’
Rosemary shrugged. ‘It didn’t occur to me we would qualify,’ she said shortly, biting her tongue in an attempt not to cry out that the Claverings would never accept charity. The time for that kind of foolish pride was long past. ‘We had the attendance allowance and the day centre. All I want you to do today is check Margot out. I told your receptionist and the locum, that she’d had a fainting spell but she’s perfectly all right today.’ She rose to her feet. ‘Perhaps you’d like to come and see her, she’s spending the day in bed because last night’s events tired her out.’