‘Seven,’ she said automatically.
Back in her room, Kate flopped onto the bed and massaged her eyes with her fingertips. She wasn’t going to the party. How could she, when all she really wanted to do was curl into a corner and weep? She couldn’t face saying goodbye to Ben. What could they say to each other? It was nice meeting you. So long and thanks for all the fish. We could have made each other deliriously happy if only I weren’t a wife and mother… How could she tell him what she really felt, when she wasn’t even sure herself ?
She would pack and go home now—sneak out like a thief in the night. No backward glances. No what ifs. Back to the safety of her desirable residence in Acacia Close. Kate pulled herself off the bed, took her suitcase out of the cupboard. She dutifully began to pack.
Kate lifted the new nightdress she was clutching to her chest and regarded it critically. Marks & Spencer’s finest. It was a married woman’s nightie. Warm and functional with absolutely no attempt at glamour. As Sonia had pointed out, it was one small step up from pink rosebuds and this was her attempt at being a femme fatale. She rolled it into a tight little ball and threw it, with more venom than accuracy, at the wastepaper basket.
Placing the last few items in the case for their journey back home, Kate clicked it shut. What now? There was nothing else to be done. It was time to leave. Jeffrey would be pleased that she had returned early. It would be a nice surprise. Although he wasn’t a man who was overly keen on surprises. Being on the receiving end of a Kissogram was probably one of Jeffrey’s worst nightmares. She ought to phone him at work and let him know her change in plans. She would hate to dash home and find that he’d taken the children to the cinema or Pizza Hut. Home alone with nothing but fridge magnets and floating candles for company. The thought made her shudder.
As she picked up the phone to dial Hills & Hopeland, there was a quiet knock on her door. She hurriedly replaced the receiver and smoothed down her hair. It must be Ben. He would see the case and would know she was planning to tiptoe quietly out of his life without the courtesy of telling him. The gentle knock came again. Kate went to the door, and bravely opened it. Sam stood leaning on her door-frame.
‘Can I come in?’ he said.
‘Yes. Of course.’ She stood aside.
He threw a glance at the packed case. ‘You’re giving the party a miss?’ His eyes were soft and sympathetic. ‘Not in the mood for celebrating?’
‘Not really.’
He took her hand and pulled her towards the bed, sitting her down next to him. ‘I wanted a few words with you before you left, Kate.’
She shrugged, not understanding. ‘Why?’
‘You’ve been finding this week a bit of a struggle, haven’t you?’
She nodded without speaking. Don’t be nice to me, Sam, you’ll start me snivelling!
‘Persevere, Kate,’ he advised. ‘Sometimes, to learn to fly at all, we have to fly in the face of what’s expected of us.’ He squeezed her fingers, lightly as if he were scared of crushing them. ‘Only then can we truly be the person we really are, rather than the person we’ve forced ourselves to be or let ourselves become. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?’
She nodded dumbly again, but it was such an infinitesimal and painful movement, she wasn’t sure that it had registered.
‘If you’ve been joined at the hip with someone for a long period of time, it can take a while to learn to stand on your own two feet, let alone to then take both of those feet off the ground so that you can begin to soar free.’
A tear escaped from Kate’s eyes and she rubbed her hand over her face.
‘Do you remember what I was saying earlier about the fire element, how it can cause burnout in high-flyers if it rages uncontrolled inside you? The same goes for lovers, too.’
So, her Chi had been gyrating its hips at Ben more obviously than she thought.
‘With the wild passion there may be sparks, fireworks, the crackle of electricity, but let it get out of control and it’ll consume you from the inside out. Fire makes us act irrationally. For balance in a relationship there needs to be earthing, too. Friendship, caring, stability.’
‘But what if that’s all there is, Sam?’ Kate asked bleakly. ‘What if there isn’t any fire left in a relationship? None at all. What then?’
‘Then you have an imbalance.’
Kate forced a tearful laugh. ‘I have an imbalance.’
‘A serious imbalance,’ he confirmed. ‘There is a negative side of being too earthed. It makes for a solid and totally dependable relationship, but there’s no growth or development in the partnership. Nothing moves forward. You lose all the sparkle and stop reaching for the stars together.’
When had she and Jeffrey last stopped to look at the stars, let alone reach for them?
‘The weight of being grounded by another person will begin to drag the free spirit down. Eventually, they’ll want to break free. To fly.’
‘Isn’t there another way? Isn’t it possible for things to change?’
‘Nothing’s impossible.’ Sam shrugged. ‘It depends how long you are prepared to wait. But some people can’t ever grasp the fire element, Kate—it’s literally too hot for them to handle. They’re frightened of getting their fingers burned. Someone who has their feet rooted deeply in the ground may take years to feel safe with even a flicker of flame.’
‘What do I do then?’ she whispered. ‘Should I throw myself on the fire and see if there is any underlying earth to support it when it eventually burns out? Or do I go back to the solid mountain of earth and anchor myself to the hope that one day something will set it alight?’
‘I’m not here to be judgemental, Kate,’ he assured her. ‘I want to help.’
‘By pouring cold water on my flames?’
‘I wanted to point out the drawbacks.’
Don’t you think I know them already, Sam?
‘But, at the end of the day,’ he continued, ‘only you know what you really need.’
‘Fire or earth? What a choice.’
He regarded her packed suitcase waiting near the door. ‘By the look of it, you’ve already made your decision.’
‘By the look of it,’ she agreed.
He stood up. ‘I’ll let you go then.’
‘Thanks, Sam,’ she said. ‘You’re very kind.’
He wrapped his arms round her and hugged her. ‘You’ll be missed at the party.’
‘I know.’
‘Perhaps you should stay,’ he said, letting her go. ‘See it through to the end. It may make things clearer.’
‘Still the ripples in the pond?’
‘Perhaps.’ He shrugged. ‘There’s something that may help. It’s a sound that you can make to heal the heart. You say it quietly, internally—aaah.’ He breathed it out gently.
‘Just aaah?’
Sam grinned. ‘It’s not as easy as it sounds.’
‘Nothing ever is.’
Kate followed him to the door. He stood with his hand hovering over the handle, hesitating. ‘Do you want me to give a message to Ben?’
She shook her head, mouth set in a determined line. What was there to say? ‘Can you love two people at once, Sam?’
He smiled ruefully. ‘Not unless you’re a politician, Kate.’
‘Hills and Hopeland,’ the singsong voice at the end of the phone trilled.
‘It’s Kate Lewis,’ she said, as she gathered the final few bits and pieces of her belongings together. ‘Can I speak to Jeffrey, please?’
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Lewis, he isn’t here.’
‘I thought I might just catch him before he left,’ she said. ‘Never mind.’
‘He hasn’t been here all day.’
Kate stopped in her tracks. ‘All day?’
‘Your au pair phoned in this morning. He’s sick.’
‘Sick?’
‘I thought you knew.’
‘I’m away. On a course,’ she explained.
The receptionist tutte
d sympathetically. ‘He’s not been very well all week.’
‘All week?’ She was beginning to sound like a parrot.
‘He had Wednesday off, too, and had to go home early every other day. We’ve been quite worried. It’s not like him.’
You’re telling me! It’s not like him at all. If Jeffrey had a suspected brain tumour, he’d take two Tylenol and carry on.
‘Perhaps he’s missing you,’ the receptionist said coyly.
‘Perhaps,’ Kate said distractedly. Or perhaps not. ‘Thank you. I’ll try him at home.’
But the home phone rang and rang until the answer-phone cut in. ‘Jeffrey and Kate are unavailable to take your call…’
That was clear enough. But why was he unavailable if he was supposed to be at home dallying at death’s door? What should she do—assume that he was too ill to get to the phone, jump in the car and zoom home to soothe his fevered brow? If he was so ill, where was Natalie? Who was looking after him? Who was looking after the children?
Kate tried his mobile. ‘The Vodafone you have called may be switched off,’ a robotic voice informed her. ‘Please try again later.’
Kate narrowed her eyes, scowling at the receiver. Where the hell was he? She rifled through her handbag, fumbling around until she found her address book. Flicking through the pages, she found the number of their next-door neighbour, Mrs Barrett. Fortunately, she answered after three rings.
‘Mrs Barrett,’ Kate was feeling rather breathless now. ‘It’s Kate Lewis. How are you?’
‘Oo, I’m fine, thank you, dear,’ Mrs Barrett answered. ‘My knees have been better, but I shouldn’t grumble.’
She did. Constantly.
‘Mrs Barrett,’ Kate butted in, before she started to catalogue the rest of her ailments, ‘have you seen Jeffrey today?’
‘Now then,’ she said. ‘Let me see.’ There was a pause, during which Mrs Barrett’s brain seemed to be slowly clicking into gear. ‘I saw them all getting into the car first thing this morning.’
Them all?
‘Jeffrey and the children?’
‘And that flighty-looking piece. Oo, I do beg your pardon, my dear.’
‘Did Jeffrey look unwell?’
‘Unwell? Why, no, dear,’ she said. ‘Not at all. He looked the picture of health. Laughing like a drain, he was, and the children.’
‘And the flighty piece?’
‘Her, too. And the milkman hadn’t yet been.’
‘So, it was before seven?’
‘They looked like they was off to the seaside for the day, way they were carrying on. Early start and all that horseplay.’
Horseplay? Kate didn’t like the sound of that at all.
‘Didn’t the children have their school uniform on?’
‘Not from where I was standing. Although I only caught a glimpse of them from behind the bedroom curtain,’ she added. ‘I’m not one for being nosey.’
Perish the thought! ‘Is there anyone at home now?’
‘I can’t see the car from the window,’ Mrs Barrett said in a muffled voice. Kate could imagine her craning her neck to get a better view round the Pyracantha Firethorn which they had planted especially to block it. ‘Is everything all right, dear?’
‘It’s fine,’ Kate assured her. ‘It must have slipped Jeffrey’s mind to tell me they were going out for the day.’ What else had conveniently slipped his mind? ‘I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Do you want me to go round there?’
Kate was beginning to regret phoning her. It would be all round the neighbourhood by tomorrow. She could imagine Mrs Barrett’s arms folded over her cardiganed chest, recounting the tale to all who would listen, adding a few little embellishments along the way to make it a bit more juicy. ‘No. Everything’s fine. Really.’
‘Well, you just let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,’ Mrs Barrett cooed sympathetically. ‘It must feel very strange being all those miles away and not knowing quite what’s going on.’
‘I’ll be back tomorrow,’ Kate replied firmly.
‘Right you are, then,’ Mrs Barrett said. ‘Bye-bye for now.’
Kate put the phone down. So much for her plans to rush home to her husband and the bosom of her family. The white rose that Ben had picked for her still sat in her toothbrush mug on the dressing table. It was fully open now, its scent delicately fragrant against the slightly stale smell of a hotel bedroom, but the water in the mug was cloudy and needed changing, and one or two of the petals were starting to curl, turning brown at the edges.
What was Jeffrey up to? Why couldn’t he have picked up the phone and called her? He seemed to be working on the same theory as her mother—that telephones were only made for receiving incoming calls and that the dial was largely ornamental. Here was she, trying to single-handedly circumnavigate the stormy seas of their marriage, while her husband was gallivanting around who knows where in the company of a dangerously beautiful blonde with legs like a particularly tall giraffe and teeth galore.
I’ll be back tomorrow. That’s what she’d said on the phone. Was she going to stay and see this through to the end then, after all? She looked at her case standing by the door, the phone sitting silently on the bedside table and the white rose blossoming forth in her toothbrush mug.
chapter 38
Still bubbling in the afterglow of excitement, Jeffrey struggled to get the key in the front door. It didn’t help that he was being harassed from behind.
‘Come on, come on,’ Kerry urged, ‘I need to do a wee.’
‘So do I,’ Natalie agreed.
Joe hopped around silently, but with a purposeful sense of urgency.
Jeffrey was wearing a black and orange T-shirt which said I SURVIVED OBLIVION! on the front and a baseball cap in the same colour scheme with a catchy ‘O’ logo on the peak. Nat, Kerry and Joe were sporting matching outfits, except that Joe’s baseball cap was worn back to front, which Jeffrey thought looked too ridiculous for words. He had splashed out on them in the souvenir shop in an impromptu moment of frenzied purchasing folly and had even bought the dreadful photograph of them all looking suitably frozen with terror from the booth at the end of the ride.
The front door swung open to sighs of relief as everyone raced for the bathrooms. Jeffrey smirked to himself. He was feeling vibrant, drunk with euphoria and a sense of achievement. He had felt the fear and done it anyway! The chorus of ‘Wild Thing’ strummed round inside his head.
Natalie appeared first. ‘Great day, Jeffers,’ she said, clapping him heartily on the back. ‘I expect you’ll need a nice cup of tea now?’
He nodded enthusiastically, before he realised she was mocking him. Then to his utmost surprise, she leaned over and kissed him, briefly, hotly, full on the mouth. He was still reeling as she wiggled away into the kitchen and put the kettle on.
The light on the answerphone was winking at him.
‘It’s Kate.’ His wife’s voice filled the hall. ‘I…’ There was a strained pause. He hadn’t spoken to Kate since Wednesday and then it had been a very half-hearted conversation. The sort of tense exchange you had with a double-glazing salesman you were trying to get off the phone as quickly as possible. Perhaps he should have called her last night, but with the barbecue and the plans to be made for Alton Towers… Excuses. There was a tremor to Kate’s tone. ‘I’ll catch up with you later. When you get back from wherever you are….’
Jeffrey frowned.
The next message made him frown even more.
‘Jeffrey,’ cut-glass English tones rang out. ‘Miles Hopeland here. Wanted a few words with you, old chap. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that you’ve been missing from the office a fair bit this week and I’d like to discuss it with you. Please will you call me at home as a matter of urgency.’
Uh-oh. It hasn’t gone unnoticed. Pay-back time. Jeffrey glanced at his watch. It was getting late. Which music should he face first? The merry dance he seemed to be leading Kate on, or the funeral marc
h from Miles Hopeland? No doubt the firm had found out he wasn’t sick or rather he was sick—but of his own volition and due to an excess of Gs and candy floss, rather than a deadly virus. Whichever way, he would be sick by the time Miles had finished with him.
He’d phone Kate first and put her mind at rest. It was the last day of her course and he didn’t want to upset her by telling her that he had been discovered bunking off work and had been sacked. She would never find the meaning of life, if she found out instead she had an unemployed husband, and he didn’t want to feel responsible for her failure as well as his. Jeffrey put his head in his hands. He couldn’t quite believe how calmly he was taking this. It was true that his life had flashed momentarily before him—graduation, marriage, birth of two children, first Mercedes, first set of golf clubs, pension rights. But there was a vague sense of detachment, a peaceful acceptance of the situation, a quietening inside of him. Perhaps this was the catalyst he had needed. He could set up his own firm, become a consultant—that was all the rage—or sell up and buy a small-holding in the Outer Hebrides and do bed and breakfast for people who couldn’t afford to go to the Seychelles.
As it turned out he couldn’t tell Kate anything. He phoned the priory, but they couldn’t find her anywhere. She wasn’t in her room and she didn’t answer their paged calls. Jeffrey replaced the receiver. It would have to wait until she got home.
He padded through to the kitchen, where Natalie handed him a cup of tea. It was just as he liked it—steaming hot, not too much milk, too much sugar. He sat on a chair at the table and swallowed it gratefully.
‘Who was on the answerphone?’ Nat asked.
‘One call was from Kate,’ he said, ‘and the other one was the senior partner of my firm requesting the pleasure of a phone call. Urgently.’ Jeffrey pursed his lips. ‘It has come to the attention of the powers that be,’ he informed Nat, ‘that I have been forsaking my post and providing paltry excuses for doing so.’
She raised one eyebrow quizzically.
‘I think Hills and Hopeland and I will shortly be parting company.’
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