The Unwelcome Guest

by Amanda Robson

  ‘Not until 10 p.m. this evening. Do you need me to check anything else whilst I’m here?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You haven’t got any new matters coming along that you want me to look at? It has cost you a lot of money to get me here, I ought to make myself useful.’

  ‘You’ve already been more than useful. Stay on the sundeck, my housekeeper will bring you lunch, and drinks whenever you want. Yanni will take you ashore to meet the car at 17.30 p.m. I have an appointment in town with Maria.’

  ‘Sounds like bliss to me,’ I reply, but in fact disappointment skitters inside me.

  Maria, his third wife. The reason he has been happier and less litigious lately. Maria is not good for my business profits. Before he met her he was becoming involved in a legal scrap almost every month.

  Aristos finishes his breakfast and sidles off to enjoy his day. I do as he suggests and lie back on a sun lounger. The sun caresses my body and lures me to sleep.

  I slip into a dream. A dream that seems real, so real. Floating in an azure sea. Unencumbered. I step from the sea, and walk along a white sand beach. Miles and Aiden are walking towards me.

  ‘I’m sorry to say our dear mother, Caprice, has passed away,’ they tell me in unison, eyes full of sorrow.

  They both take my hand. Miles is on my left, Aiden on my right. We walk along the beach to a small church at the end of the cove. We step inside. It is your funeral, Caprice. Your coffin is at the front of the chapel by the simple stone altar, decorated with a small silver cross. Ben and Harry are standing at the front with Hayley. All your friends from bridge are here. And some of the school gate mums you socialise with. A lady vicar with a bell-like voice presides. Explaining we are here not to mourn a death, but to celebrate a life. The usual stuff. We sing a hymn – ‘Now Thank We All Our God’ – your favourite. Then some pallbearers who I haven’t noticed before appear from a side door and carry the coffin outside.

  We stand, heads bowed, as they lower it into the graveyard, behind the church. I can hear waves lapping on the beach. Miles throws a red rose on top of the casket. It bursts open and bleeds.

  My body jolts. I sit up on the sunbed and blink. And for a few minutes in the sweet transition between sleep and wakefulness, I really believe that you are dead, Caprice. For a second I feel light with freedom, like I did in my dream, and then guilt permeates through me. What is the matter with me? Why am I dreaming of your death? A death that would devastate Miles. But a death that would set me free.

  15

  Caprice

  Tuesday morning. The house is quiet. The children are at school. Hayley is shopping. Miles is at the university supervising a tutorial. And, Saffron, you are standing in the hallway, just returned from your trip to Greece. Dishevelled and tired. Your trouser suit and face equally crumpled.

  ‘Welcome home,’ I say with a smile. ‘Can I get you a coffee?’

  Don’t smile back. Don’t strain yourself, Saffron.

  ‘Thank you. And then I’ll have a quick shower and get straight off to the office.’

  You dump your Chanel travel bag in the hallway, the designer bag you use for all your jaunts, and follow me into the kitchen. You sit, tapping your fingers on the table, looking out of the window.

  ‘How was your trip?’ I ask as I put the kettle on.

  ‘Fine.’ You shrug. ‘But it’s a long way to go just to get Aristos to sign a few papers.’

  Don’t ask me how I am, Saffron.

  Annoyed at your lack of interest in me, I snap, ‘Why do you do it? Why do you pander to him?’

  Your face stiffens. ‘I’m not pandering. He pays me.’

  I pour boiling water into the cafetiere, and place it on a mat on the table near you. I lean across and push my eyes into yours. ‘I’m not sure I believe you.’

  Your eyes darken. ‘Whatever do you mean?’

  ‘Well, to be honest – and honesty is so important in a relationship – I think you’re having an affair with him.’

  ‘Are you insane? He’s my client.’

  ‘I can assure you I’m observant, rather than insane.’

  You clamp your jaw and clench your fist. And I know I have riled you. Good. Since I moved into your house you have been even colder than before. More distant. Don’t you feel anything for me, since I lost my husband? You still have Miles. Can’t you find any generosity in your soul? I want you to react. I want you to feel something.

  I take a deep breath. ‘You need to be careful. If Miles finds out he’ll take the opportunity to run off with his teenage girlfriend; the only woman he has ever really loved romantically.’

  Your eyes blaze. ‘What are you talking about, Caprice?’

  Not so calm and confident now, are you, Saffron?

  I flash my unnerving smile. The smile that you once told me makes you feel uncomfortable.

  ‘I think you need to know that Miles was always infatuated with Julie. It broke his heart when she ran off with Aiden. Let’s face it, she’s available now. And I heard him on the phone to her last week.’ I pause. ‘If you’re playing around, why can’t he?’

  16

  Saffron

  ‘I’m not playing around, Caprice,’ I shout. ‘And I know you love Julie, but Miles never did. Miles and I talk about everything. It was the other way round. Julie was in love with him but he didn’t return her feelings. Their relationship was over decades ago.’

  She gives me a scathing smile. ‘You talk about everything, do you?’ There’s a pause. ‘Over decades ago?’ Another pause, longer this time. ‘You’ll soon find out.’

  Anger pulsates through me. I storm out of the kitchen, up the stairs, into our bedroom. I strip off and head for the shower. In an attempt to relax, I turn the hot water on full blast so that the flow pummels and almost scalds me. A voice whispers in my head. You caught him texting her last week and he wouldn’t tell you why. If what Caprice says is true would he admit it to you? If you loved another man would you tell him the truth?

  As I dress and leave the house, the words in my head become louder and louder. By the time I am driving to work, they scream inside my mind. If Miles loves Julie, would he tell you? You need to find out for yourself.

  Walking into the office, a headache pounding across my forehead, my lips stretch into a forced smile for Julie and Ted.

  ‘I need to talk to you, Julie. Please step into my office.’

  I march into my office and Julie follows me.

  ‘Please sit down,’ I say, tight-lipped.

  Julie frowns and slips into my visitors’ chair, looking as appealing as ever with her neat features and shiny shoulder-length chestnut hair. Her simple toffee-brown cashmere dress emphasises her willowy figure. The woman I thought was my friend. The woman my husband might be in love with.

  ‘What’s the matter? What’s happened?’ she asks.

  ‘I need to know why you were texting Miles.’

  She smiles and shakes her head. ‘It’s a secret. I can’t tell you why.’

  My insides tighten. ‘Just between the two of you?’ I ask. ‘And I am out of the loop?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Anger burns inside me. I want to slap her. ‘I think he’s cheating on me, with you.’

  She turns ashen. ‘What’s the matter with you, Saffron? How can you possibly think that?’

  ‘Quite easily, I can assure you.’

  Her eyes widen. ‘That’s ridiculous. You know Miles and I are only friends. And work isn’t the time or place for conversations like this. Come out to my new place at the weekend and we can talk about Miles’ and my relationship.’

  Miles’ and my relationship. Her words spill across my mind like acid. Burning. Scalding.

  There is a knock on my office door. I walk across and open it. Ted stands before me, bristling with worry.

  ‘I need to speak to you, right now, in private.’

  Julie stands up. ‘I was just going.’

  She scuttles across the room, eyes to the floor, embarra
ssed. She pushes past Ted and leaves the office. I return to my chair, hands and mind trembling. Ted enters looking as if he is on the way to a funeral. Body stiff, face elongated. He sits in my visitors’ chair. I have known him twenty years and I have never seen him look so intense.

  ‘I received an email from Sasha’s accountants this morning. She can’t pay us the money she owes us. She’s gone bankrupt.’

  Sasha, whose father is an oligarch, bankrupt? Sasha, who lives in a palace? Sasha, who swans around in a private jet travelling to fashion shows between ballet performances?

  ‘How can she be bankrupt?’ I ask.

  ‘Same as the next person. By spending more than she has, with no control.’

  ‘But … but …’ I splutter. ‘We had her credit checked.’

  ‘That was three years ago. And I spoke to our bank yesterday. They said they can’t extend the loan.’

  I clench my fist and bang it on my desk. ‘No. The bank will have to extend the loan. We’ve worked too hard to go under. I will not allow us to.’

  ‘What do you suggest we do then?’ he asks.

  ‘Who’ve you been dealing with at the bank?’

  ‘Paul Templeton.’

  ‘Get on to his boss, Jane Prescott.’ He lifts his eyebrows questioningly. ‘I was at Cambridge with her. Mention my name. It’ll help.’

  Slowly, slowly, he shakes his head. ‘The old school tie rigmarole doesn’t work these days. Trying to court favour could even work against us.’

  ‘Don’t complain – just do what I say,’ I beg.

  ‘OK. Will do,’ he says as he leaves the room.

  I sit, head in my hands, electric waves of panic rising inside me. My husband is about to leave me for his first love. My business is about to sink. I feel as if I’m falling off a precipice.

  17

  Hayley

  I slip out of the house to meet my boyfriend, Jono. Not long off the plane from New Zealand, I met him at Fabric night club in London. I went with Isla, who had been volunteered by the friend of a friend to welcome me to the UK. Meeting me at Heathrow airport and letting me sleep on the floor of her damp basement flat in Earl’s Court until I found my feet. Until I got a nanny job with accommodation.

  We were dancing to Carl Cox’s classic DJ set. She’d given me an E. I was jumping and pumping to the music, when Jono and his mate Vic approached us and began to dance close. Vic became entangled with Isla. Jono was pumping in time with me. Jono gave us all some more E.

  At four-ish we took an Uber back to Jono’s squat. Wasting time with a man my parents wouldn’t approve of really gave me a hit. A wiry man, covered in tattoos and piercings, living in a squat. Underground. Rebellious. Offering me neat whisky from the bottle. Smelling of cannabis, nicotine, and another world that I had never been part of.

  The whisky I drank burnt my throat. We didn’t make love. We fucked in the solid darkness. Really fucked. Simple. Hard. Relentless. No give or take, just greed and anger. An impulse. A moment. No strings. Nothing complicated. And that is what it is like with us. Two passing ships in the night, enjoying ourselves. No complexity. No fuss.

  Today he’s standing at the front gate of Wellbeck House, smoking a roll-up. Just nicotine today I think, not cannabis.

  ‘Wotcha, Hale,’ he says, as he leans to kiss me.

  He stinks. His scent today is nicotine and alcohol, with a faint tinge of motor oil. We walk along the road together, towards the pub. He puts his arm around me and holds me close.

  ‘How’s work?’ I ask, pulling away from him and walking at the edge of the pavement.

  ‘Same as ever. MOTs. Changing brake pads. Replacing catalytic converters. Sensors. Spark plugs.’ He sniffs. ‘It’s quite boring, you know.’ He wipes his nose with the back of his hand.

  ‘Why don’t you train for something else, get another job?’ I ask.

  ‘Well I’m used to it now. And the mates I work with are quite a laugh.’ There is a pause. ‘What’s it like working with nobs?’ he asks.

  ‘Nobs?’

  ‘You know, the rich and the posh.’

  ‘I’m enjoying it actually.’

  ‘Aren’t Saffron and Miles Jackson intellectual tossers?’

  ‘I like them. What makes you say that?’

  ‘I looked them up on the internet. She’s a lawyer, isn’t she? Lawyer-come-punk-rocker from the way she dresses. Looks pretty fit to me. It’s him that I’m not sure about. He’s on YouTube. Done a TED talk. The talk’s crap. It’s philosophy. I think philosophy is a load of shit.’

  ‘What a thought-provoking comment. I expect they’ll invite you to do one next.’

  ‘Come on, Hale, don’t be sarcastic. You know sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.’

  18

  Saffron

  I’m sitting in Boisdale’s, opposite Aiden, Caprice’s words racing in my head.

  Miles was always infatuated by Julie. It broke his heart when she ran off with Aiden.

  Julie.

  And Julie is so attractive with her shiny chestnut hair, cascading across her shoulders. Her melting chocolate-drop eyes, neat little nose and perfect smile. Clever. Interesting. Funny. One of those people who you are never sure what they are going to say next; whose company is stimulating. I have always liked her. Miles and I usually like the same people. Caprice is the only person we argue about. So the fact that I have always liked Julie is worrying.

  ‘You wanted to see me,’ Aiden says, sipping his Bourgogne Aligoté. ‘You sounded concerned on the phone.’

  ‘I want to know your version of what happened between Miles and Julie.’

  Aiden leans back in his chair, lips toying with a smile.

  19

  Aiden

  I lean back in my chair and look at you, your sculptured face spoilt by a frown.

  ‘Why do you want to know about Miles and Julie?’ I ask.

  You bite your lower lip, and I wish I was kissing it. ‘It was just something your mother said.’

  Mother. Causing trouble again. But in this case, trouble that suits her younger son.

  ‘What did she say?’ I ask as casually as possible.

  You look bereft. Your eyes pool with tears. I want to pull you towards me and comfort you.

  ‘She said that Miles was heartbroken when he split up with Julie. He was envious when she got together with you. That he still has feelings for her.’

  Good one, Mother. Why didn’t I think of that?

  You lean across the table. ‘Please, Aiden, tell me – is it true?’ you ask, voice cracking.

  I take a deep breath, to slow things down. To give me time to think.

  ‘I’m not sure it’s fair for me to comment.’ I take a sip of wine, holding your eyes. ‘What has Miles said?’

  You put your knife and fork together and push away your plate of untouched food. I finished my steak and chips ten minutes ago. The waitress sidles over. ‘Was the food not to your liking?’

  ‘Fine thanks,’ you reply, voice clipped. ‘I’m just not hungry.’

  She takes our plates away.

  ‘What has Miles said?’ I repeat.

  ‘That they split up amicably. They were growing apart anyway. They never really fancied one another so by the time he was about to leave for university, splitting up was an easy decision for them both to make.’ You pause. ‘But I mean if he was, and still is interested in her, he wouldn’t want me to know, would he? That’s why I need your take on the situation.’

  I swig my Bourgogne Aligoté and put my glass down. ‘Look, I don’t want to cause trouble.’

  You lean further forwards and put your hand on my arm. You don’t usually touch me. Electricity jolts through me.

  ‘I’m not asking you to cause trouble. I just want the truth. If Miles was in love with her, he may be attempting to bury his feelings, to protect me.’

  I tap my fingers on the table.

  ‘I just need to know what happened between them, I can’t just sit and wait to be hurt. The sooner I kn
ow, the better,’ you push.

  Smiling inside, I make a show of taking a deep breath and giving a heavy sigh. ‘The truth is, Mother is right. He was deeply in love with her.’ I pause for effect. ‘She left him, and he was devastated. He’s just too proud to admit it.’ You lean back in your chair, holding your stomach as if my words have punched you and winded you. ‘It made things very difficult between us. He hardly spoke to me for years after Julie and I got together,’ I continue.

  You sit up straight, swallowing to push back your tears. But one escapes and trickles down your right cheek. You wipe it away with your serviette.

  ‘I didn’t realise you went through a patch of not speaking,’ you almost whisper.

  I finish my glass of Bourgogne Aligoté, and catch the waitress’s eye to get her attention. She walks straight over. I wave my glass at her. ‘Another large one please.’ She smiles, nods, and disappears.

  ‘Why do you think we hardly saw one another, when you first met Miles?’ I ask.

  You take a sip of sparkling mineral water. ‘I just thought it was because you were both busy studying,’ you mumble into your glass.

  ‘Think again. Miles couldn’t bear to see Julie and me together.’

  You look up, azure blue eyes misted with tears. ‘But … but … that was years ago. And we have built our life together. Do you think he still has feelings for her?’

  ‘Love like that doesn’t disappear.’

  20

  Saffron

  Saturday afternoon. Worry about Julie, Miles, and my financial problems with Belgravia Private Clients, is making me feel nauseous and tired. And now, when I should be spending quality time with my family, I’m driving down the A3, towards West Wittering Beach. To visit Julie in her new home. I pull off the A3 at Eashing because she told me it’s a nice drive through the Downland villages.

  Love like that doesn’t disappear.