Swimming Pool Sunday

by Sophie Kinsella

  ‘What?’ prompted Louise, falteringly.

  ‘And, if we wanted to, we could …’ He stopped, then continued in a rush. ‘We could just call the whole thing off.’

  There was a long shocked silence. Louise stared at Barnaby. She could feel her face turning pink and her breaths coming in short sharp gasps.

  ‘I know,’ exclaimed Barnaby, ‘I’m crazy. You don’t have to agree with me.’

  ‘But I do!’ cried Louise suddenly, her voice ringing through the garden. ‘I do agree with you!’

  To her astonishment a tear began to roll down her cheeks, and she gave a sudden involuntary sob. Barnaby stared at her in alarm.

  ‘I’m the same as you! I don’t want to go to court any more!’ she wailed. ‘I just want to get back to normal life. I just can’t stand it hanging over us all the time …’ She tailed off and broke down into shuddering sobs.

  ‘Lou!’ said Barnaby. He sounded shaken. ‘Lou, are you all right?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she spluttered, ‘I’m fine. It’s just …’ She looked up at him through teary blue eyes. ‘It’s just … I don’t know … the relief …’ And she broke down again.

  For a few minutes she sat with her head buried in her hands, rocking slightly in her chair, weeping uncontrollably. She was oblivious of anything except the hot redness in front of her eyes and her panting breaths and the wetness which coursed through her fingers. But gradually, as her sobs began to die down, she began to feel a gentle lifting in her body. The strains and tensions which seemed to have been building up inside her for months, very slowly started to ebb away. She felt her shoulders begin to loosen and her neck begin to relax and her taut constrained brow gently begin to expand. And inside her mind she began to be aware of a gradual lightening, an easing, a slipping away of the shadowy, looming, permanent edifice that had been part of her every thought and dream since the whole thing had started.

  ‘It was just there all the time!’ she suddenly wailed. ‘It spoiled everything. All we could think about was the case! Oh God, Barnaby! What were we doing? We were mad!’

  Barnaby’s head jerked up.

  ‘Do you mean …’ he said hesitantly, studying Louise’s wet, red, tear-streaked face. ‘Do you mean you definitely want to call it off? I mean … I mean, a minute ago you were all in favour of it. You can’t have changed your mind that quickly.’

  Louise took a couple of slow shuddering breaths and rubbed her cheeks. Then she looked up at Barnaby.

  ‘I haven’t changed my mind,’ she said. ‘I’ve just opened it up and looked at what’s really inside.’ She paused. ‘If you hadn’t said anything, then, yes, I would have gone along with the case, but only because I didn’t see any other option. I felt trapped. I just sort of assumed we had to go to court, whether we wanted to or not.’ She gave a shaky laugh. ‘As though it wasn’t up to us all along. And now …’ She pushed her hair off her wet face. ‘Now I feel as if we were mad to keep going with the idea for so long.’

  ‘But what about …’ Barnaby shrugged helplessly. ‘Oh, I don’t know … the money?’

  ‘The money,’ said Louise flatly. ‘No amount of money would make me go into a witness box and tell the world that Katie’s a walking disaster.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That’s what they said, those lawyers. They said’, Louise’s voice trembled, ‘she wasn’t injured enough. They said we’d have to play up the personality changes; make her sound like a monster; unbearable to live with.’

  ‘Bastards!’ Barnaby stared at Louise.

  ‘Either that or forget about half a million,’ said Louise. She looked down. ‘And anyway,’ she added softly, ‘what do we really want with half a million pounds of Hughs’ and Ursula’s money?’

  There was a long pause.

  ‘We don’t,’ said Barnaby.

  ‘No,’ said Louise, ‘we don’t. We don’t want any of it. I can’t even bear to think about it any more. I suddenly feel …’ She ran her fingers shakily through her hair. ‘I feel liberated. As though I’ve got rid of a disease that was poisoning me and making me sick.’

  ‘That’s a bit how I feel, too,’ said Barnaby.

  Louise smiled tremulously at him. For a few moments they looked at each other silently in the still garden air. Then Barnaby took a deep breath and said, ‘What about Cassian?’

  For a moment Louise stared at him, as though she didn’t know who he was talking about.

  ‘Cassian,’ she echoed weakly. ‘Oh, God. I don’t know.’ She took a sip of wine and winced. ‘He’ll be furious; he’ll be absolutely furious.’ Suddenly she gave a strange, almost hysterical little giggle. ‘He’ll go completely mad,’ she said and giggled again. ‘He’ll probably explode.’

  Barnaby stared at her. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again.

  ‘I don’t know how I’ll tell him,’ said Louise. Barnaby licked his lips nervously.

  ‘Do you think …’ he began. ‘Do you think he’ll try and make you change your mind?’

  ‘Never,’ said Louise determinedly. ‘Let him try.’ She sighed and sipped at her wine. ‘The trouble with Cassian’, she said in an almost conversational tone, ‘is that he takes everything so bloody seriously. I don’t think he even knows what a sense of humour is.’

  Barnaby stared at Louise, unable to reply.

  ‘All he thinks about’, continued Louise, ‘is his career, and his political prospects, and winning this stupid case. He wants to move to London, you know.’ She looked up at Barnaby. ‘He wants us to move there with him; the girls, too.’

  Barnaby felt a jolting pang in his chest.

  ‘To London?’ he said weakly.

  ‘Yes,’ said Louise airily. ‘That’s what he says.’

  ‘And …’ Barnaby swallowed. ‘Are you going to go?’

  Louise put her drink down and looked straight at him.

  ‘Barnaby,’ she said gently, ‘do you really think there’s any future for me and Cassian now?’

  Barnaby stared back at her for a moment, then he looked down and shrugged. He felt unhappily confused. Louise drew breath to speak again, but she was interrupted by the sound of the telephone ringing.

  ‘Oh, God,’ said Louise. ‘That might be about the girls. Hang on a minute.’

  She hurried into the house and Barnaby leaned back heavily in his chair, trying to make some sense of this conversation; trying not to let himself draw the wrong conclusion; trying not to allow the insidious, corrupting, unstoppable emotion of hope to take root in his chest.

  As Louise came back again he was frowning hard, and he looked up to speak. But she spoke first.

  ‘It was …’ Her voice was trembling slightly, and Barnaby felt a sudden thumping panic. He stared anxiously at her. Had something happened to the girls? To Katie?

  ‘It was Cassian,’ said Louise. ‘His meeting was cancelled.’

  The fearful beating in Barnaby’s chest began to subside and he gave a small sigh of relief. Louise licked her dry lips.

  ‘I told him we were calling off the case,’ she said. ‘I thought it would be easier that way. I thought he was miles away.’ She gave a strange giggle. ‘But he was calling from his car. He’s going to be here in about five minutes.’

  Daisy and Alexis stood at the corner of the square of grass in front of Linningford Abbey and waved. On the other side of the Crescent a gleaming red BMW signalled, then smoothly turned and disappeared through the narrow stone gateway. Daisy dropped her arm and sighed.

  ‘I’m so glad you’ve met my parents,’ she said happily. ‘I think they really liked you.’

  Alexis looked down at her innocent face and recalled, in spite of himself, the expressions of suspicion and incredulity which had greeted him in the vestry. The mistrustful probing questions from Daisy’s mother; the alarmed frown on her father’s forehead; the looks of surprise from the others. All covered in a civilized veneer of friendly politeness.

  The only one who had completely failed to conceal his hil
arious astonishment had been Daisy’s brother. He had stared agog at Alexis, then at Daisy, then back at Alexis. Then he’d sidled up to Daisy and said in a penetrating whisper, ‘This your fella, then?’ Daisy had blushed and smiled. ‘Isn’t he a bit past it?’ continued her brother cheerfully, and Daisy had blushed even harder, and her mother had hastily asked Alexis, in a loud distracting voice, a question about his work.

  Now Alexis smiled at Daisy and said, ‘I hope they did. They certainly seemed very nice people.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Daisy vaguely. ‘Yes, they are.’

  ‘They were talking about the Academy,’ continued Alexis. ‘You didn’t tell me you’d won a scholarship there.’

  ‘Oh,’ Daisy shrugged, ‘it wasn’t anything much.’

  ‘That’s not what your parents seem to think, nor that conductor chap.’ Alexis looked seriously at her. ‘You know, Daisy,’ he said, ‘you have something very precious. I don’t think I realized before today quite how precious it was. And how important it is that you make as much of it as you possibly can.’

  He walked a few steps, sat down on the grass, still warm from the day’s sun, and patted the ground next to him. Daisy sank down in a dark billowing cloud of taffeta, and nestled up to him.

  ‘Today was lovely,’ she murmured. ‘Doing the concert, and seeing my parents, and them meeting you and everything.’ She looked up at Alexis. ‘This has been such a perfect summer.’

  ‘I know it has,’ said Alexis softly. ‘Perfect.’ He paused and ran a hand through his hair. Daisy nestled closer.

  ‘But, you know,’ continued Alexis slowly, ‘the summer’s nearly at an end. And then you’re going to move to London and start your new life at the Academy, and things might …’ he swallowed, ‘might be a little different.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Daisy turned her head to look at him, wide-eyed. ‘What do you mean, different? Do you mean us?’

  ‘In a way,’ said Alexis. He put up a hand and cradled her chin.

  ‘Your life is just beginning,’ he said gently, ‘and it’s going to be a very exciting life. You must make the most of it.’

  ‘I know,’ said Daisy. She stared at him. ‘But we’ll still be the same, won’t we? I mean, I’ll come down every weekend, and we’ll still see each other nearly as much as we do now, that’s what we said.’

  ‘I know that’s what we said,’ agreed Alexis, ‘and of course we will see each other, but …’ He broke off.

  ‘But what?’ Daisy sat up, suddenly agitated. ‘Wh-what’s wrong?’ In her distress she began to stumble over her words, and Alexis felt his heart squeeze painfully.

  ‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he said. ‘It’s just …’ He broke off and briefly closed his eyes. What was he doing? What the hell was he doing? Why was he torturing himself and Daisy like this?

  ‘D-don’t … don’t you want to go out with me any more?’ said Daisy. Her lips were quivering and her eyelashes batted nervously. Alexis stared at her, almost unable to reply.

  ‘Of course I want to,’ he said at last, his voice thick with emotion. ‘Daisy, I love you.’

  ‘And I love you, too,’ said Daisy in a trembling voice. Alexis looked away. He could hardly bear to say what he was about to.

  ‘But sometimes,’ he said, forcing himself to speak, ‘sometimes just loving each other isn’t enough.’ Daisy drew breath, and he carried on quickly before she could speak. ‘When you get to London, you’re going to meet a lot of new people, all your own age, and you’re going to have a lot of fun. And, I hope, you’re going to work very hard at your music.’ He paused. Daisy was silent.

  ‘And all I wanted to say,’ he continued, ‘was that you mustn’t come back down here every weekend. You must go out and have fun, and join in with all the others. And if,’ he swallowed, ‘if you happen to meet someone – a boy – who’s a bit nearer your own age …’

  ‘I won’t!’ said Daisy passionately. ‘I wouldn’t ever …’

  ‘You might,’ said Alexis gently, ‘and if you do, you mustn’t feel bad. You mustn’t feel guilty.’ He somehow managed to smile at her. ‘We’ve had a perfect summer together, and nothing can ever change that, but now you’re moving on.’

  ‘I don’t want to move on,’ whispered Daisy. She bit her lip. ‘I want to stay here with you. I wish I wasn’t going.’

  ‘I know you do,’ said Alexis thickly. ‘God, so do I.’ He suddenly pulled her close to him and buried his face in her soft, white, scented neck.

  ‘Let’s not think about the future,’ he murmured against her skin. ‘Let’s just enjoy the next two weeks. And then, when you move to London – well, we’ll just see how it goes, shall we?’

  ‘OK,’ said Daisy in a shaking voice. She pushed him away slightly, and he saw, with a small shock, that her cheeks were stained with tears. ‘I’ll always love you, Alexis,’ she said. ‘It wouldn’t matter if I was in London or here or … or on the moon. And I think,’ she hesitated, ‘I think you’re wrong. I think that’s all that counts. We love each other, and … and nothing else matters at all. That’s what I think.’

  Alexis stared back at her for a few trembling moments.

  ‘I’m an old fool,’ he said at last. Daisy gave a surprised giggle.

  ‘No, you’re not!’ she said.

  ‘I am,’ said Alexis. ‘I don’t know what I’ve been thinking of. I should be wining and dining you, sweeping you off your feet. We should be celebrating! What are we doing, sitting here?’

  He got to his feet, and held out his hands to Daisy. ‘Now,’ he said. ‘You’re the star, so you can choose. Red wine, white wine, or …’

  ‘Champagne,’ said Daisy, ‘of course!’

  ‘As much as we can drink,’ said Alexis. He looked at her ruefully. ‘Daisy, don’t ever again listen to a word I say,’ he said. ‘Please.’ Daisy giggled.

  ‘OK,’ she said, ‘I won’t.’

  ‘Good,’ said Alexis. ‘Now, let’s go and find some champagne worth drinking.’

  Louise and Barnaby sat, in silence, in the kitchen of Larch Tree Cottage. They had neatly folded up the garden chairs, brought the wine inside, and sat down to wait. That was five minutes ago. Now every little sound from outside made them start and glance towards the door, then look sheepishly at each other and back down again.

  Barnaby stared miserably into his glass of wine. He felt as though he had been on the brink of something outside, on the edge of a new understanding, a new beginning, even. If they’d just had a bit more time to talk … He glanced covertly at Louise and her words floated through his mind. ‘Do you really think there’s any future for me and Cassian?’ Barnaby clenched his fist tightly. He felt like smashing it down on the table. What did she mean? Was she asking him a question? Was she trying to tell him something? Was she teasing him? He couldn’t stand this roundabout talk.

  Suddenly there was the sound of a key in the lock. Louise jumped, and looked at Barnaby.

  ‘I feel like hiding under the table,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t you?’

  But there was no time for Barnaby to reply, as into the kitchen strode Cassian. He looked office-smart, and swung his briefcase jauntily. To Barnaby’s amazement, he was smiling.

  ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Hello there, Barnaby. Nice to see you.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Barnaby, taken aback. ‘Yes.’ Surprise made him sound gruff and ungracious, and he suddenly felt a bit unsure of things. Had Louise really made up her mind about the case? Why was Cassian looking so cheerful? What was going on? He watched as Cassian sat down and poured himself a glass of wine; he looked completely unperturbed. Barnaby glanced at Louise, who was looking down pensively. He couldn’t tell what she might be thinking, and in spite of himself, his heart began to beat nervously.

  ‘So, I gather’, said Cassian smoothly, ‘you’ve been having second thoughts about the case.’ He spoke to Barnaby, as though Louise were not there, or didn’t count. Or as though she didn’t agree with Barnaby.

  ‘Well,’ said Barnaby, glancin
g at Louise, ‘yes. We’ve decided we don’t want to go any further with it.’

  ‘I understand completely,’ said Cassian kindly. ‘It’s a very daunting prospect, going to court, but don’t worry, you’ll be fine. So what I suggest is that you have a careful think and sleep on it, and don’t rush into any decision yet.’

  ‘Well,’ began Barnaby doubtfully. He looked at Louise again; she wasn’t saying anything. What was wrong? Had she changed her mind about the whole thing? He looked up at Cassian, who was politely waiting. Someone was going to have to say something. Barnaby frowned.

  ‘The thing is, Cassian,’ he said, ‘I really think we’ve made up our minds already.’ He glanced at Louise and, when there was no response, ploughed on. ‘We think the case is going to be too much of a strain, both on us and on Katie,’ he said, ‘and there’s no guarantee of getting any money, and even if there were, the Delaneys …’ He tailed off feebly.

  ‘The Delaneys are your friends,’ suggested Cassian.

  ‘Well, yes,’ said Barnaby, ‘something like that.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Cassian. He didn’t sound surprised. ‘Well, as I say, have a good think, and I’m sure you’ll come round to the idea again.’ He smiled at Barnaby. ‘You know, you owe it to Katie.’

  ‘Don’t say that!’ Louise’s voice interrupted him like a whiplash, and both men jumped. ‘Don’t you dare say anything at all about Katie,’ she said in a fierce deliberate voice. ‘You have no idea at all. This case isn’t going to help her! It’s going to label her as some kind of helpless head case! It’s going to tell the world that her whole life has been ruined! What kind of help is that?’

  ‘Louise,’ said Cassian in soothing tones. ‘I realize it’s difficult to face up to Katie’s needs …’

  ‘I face up to them every day, thank you!’ exclaimed Louise. ‘I know exactly what her needs are. She needs a normal life and support and encouragement, not a bloody legal battle to screw her up!’