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WHEN NOONIE LEFT HIS house that morning, Edward threw on his clothes, made himself some tea, combed his hair with six sweeps of a plastic comb and set off for the village florist. He was going to convince Susan he was gay. It was the only way to let her down gently and it would be especially so with a good bunch of flowers.
If he was gay, he couldn’t be attracted to her - through no fault of hers. They could go to the ballet together without any expectations. He could talk to her when she was down. He could look after her. She’d gradually get used to the idea that their relationship was meant to be platonic and she’d move on. She’d meet and marry someone, and he’d move away and wed Noonie without telling her. Everyone would live happily ever after. True, it was a labour intensive plan and it wouldn’t happen overnight, but properly managed it was the kindest course.
It was a cloudless, sunny day and the air was tart. He waited ten minutes for the florist to open. Inside, there were bouquets in baskets, in cellophane, catalogue bouquets that hadn’t been made up yet but wanted to be, bouquets with teddy bears, bouquets in vases of glass, ceramic, stainless steel, bouquets of twigs and leaves and a separate shelf for potted plants.
“Can I help you, Sir?” asked a middle-aged woman with a high chin.
“I’m looking for a bouquet.”
“Mother, girlfriend, wife?”
“I want to break some bad news.”
“Oh dear. What sort of bad news? If you don’t mind my asking?”
“I want to break off a relationship. But I’d like us to remain friends.”
“Ah. A lady?”
“I’m not sure how to put this, but I’d like her to think I’m gay.”
“Gay?”
“So I was thinking maybe pinks and creams. I’m speculating. A few gay species. Sweet Williams, maybe.”
“Well, I ... Oh, sorry, yes I see, sorry: you’re joking. Yes, oh dear, very funny indeed.”
An hour later, he arrived at Black Gables by taxi. He wanted to get this over and done with as soon as possible. He paid the driver and knocked on the front door. He hoped Noonie wouldn’t answer. There was no time for an explanation. This was spur of the moment although he’d been mulling it over for a few days now.
The door was as black and forbidding as ever, but looked more tired than when Charles had been in charge.
A well-dressed, burly man with short black hair opened it. “Yes?”
“Is Susan in?”
He pulled his head back. “Whom should I say is calling?”
“Edward Grant.”
“That wouldn’t be the ‘Edward Grant’ who isn’t welcome in this house, would it?”
“The same. Look, please. I’ve just got something to tell her. She’s expecting me.”
The man sighed and put his hand over his mouth to conceal a burp. “Well, I wouldn’t like to get into the lovely Susan’s bad books. Come in. Luckily for you, Valérie’s out. But if she comes back, I didn’t let you in, okay?”
“Understood. Thank you.”
“I’ll go and wake her. She’s thrown another sickie, I’m afraid. She’s been waiting for our Thai maid to return home. Out all last night. Pining, bless her.”
“You’ve got a Thai maid?”
“Thai something. Listen, I know it’s only ten o’clock or whatever it is, but would you like a drink? On the house. What’s your tipple?”
Edward noticed a half-finished Scotch on the telephone table. The man picked it up as if to defend it.
“I’m not thirsty,” Edward said.
“Can’t take that sort of thing, eh?”
“Not at this time in the morning. No offence.”
“I like you, young man. We should go out on the piss together one night. Just you and me and the bouquet. The name’s Phillip. Phillip Blake.”
“Er, is Susan in?”
“She’s in bed. I’ll go and wake her. She’s thrown another sickie, I’m afraid. She’s been waiting for our Thai maid to return home. Out all last night. Pining, bless her.”
Edward was curious to see what would happen if he stepped into the time-loop. “You’ve got a Thai maid?”
“You betcha!” He limped upstairs, still clutching his Scotch.
Susan appeared on the stairs in a cream dressing gown and bare feet. “Edward!” She skipped down the stairs two at a time and almost crashed into him. “Oops!”
“Mind the bouquet.”
“Is that for me?”
“No, it’s for Phillip.”
Her face fell and she looked desolate. Then she smiled. “You’re joking!”
“Yes. They’re for you.”
“You’re so funny! I don’t mean funny peculiar, though. I mean funny ha-ha. They’re really nice.”
“Although in a deeper, more real sense, I wasn’t joking.”
She sniffed them. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I do love Phillip. I mean, how can I put this? I’ve loved Phillip ever since I first set eyes on him.”
“But what about ... me?”
“Well, I love you, too. But in a different way.”
“You’re ... joking? ... again?”
“Alas, no. Not this time.”
“So - you love Phillip in a sexual way?”
He swallowed. “Yes.”
Phillip had arrived behind Susan, apparently from nowhere. “Shit,” he said.
“Sorry, Phillip,” Edward said.
“You’re a bloody queer?” Phillip said.
Edward nodded. “Queer as a beer.”
“Well, you can bloody get out of this house, right now. I’m sorry I let you in. Come on. Out, now!”
Susan seemed to have been expecting something like this. She turned on Phillip and gave a hiss like a cat. Phillip turned pale and stumbled backwards.
She grabbed Edward’s hand. “We’ll talk about this in the Study.”
Edward allowed himself to be led. Susan closed the door behind them. She took off her dressing gown, uncovering a white nightie that stopped short of her ankles, and hung it on the hat stand. She sat down.
“You sit on the armchair,” she said.
Edward was surprised by how calmly she was taking it. He’d expected her to clam up with grief. He’d rehearsed a ‘We can still be friends’ speech in the taxi on the assumption that he’d be on dry land and she’d be at sea. But as far as he could tell, she was now in control. He didn’t know where that left him.
“Are you trying to tell me you’re gay?” she said.
“Yes.”
“Did you used to have sex with Charles, then?”
“Er, no.”
“Why not?”
“He wasn’t really my type.”
“But Dr Appleton said Charles liked you.”
“That’s as may be,” he said.
“Dr Appleton said he doesn’t think you’re gay.”
“How would he know?”
“He’s a doctor.”
He folded his hands. “But being gay isn’t an illness.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“Well, then.”
“I don’t think you’re gay, Edward,” she said. “I don’t believe you. You can keep telling me you’re gay till the cows come home and I won’t believe you. Do you know why? Because we’re destined to be together. That wouldn’t be possible if you were gay.”
“The thing is, though - ”
“Do you know what I think? I think you’re scared of me. Now look, Edward. I don’t want any more lies from you. You lied to me when we first met and I forgave you. But nobody likes being lied to twice. I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to tell me the absolute truth, do you understand?”
He nodded.
“Are you scared of me?”
He faltered. “Yes.”
“I thought so. There’s no need to be! I love you! I wouldn’t hurt you, I promise. Ever! Even if you hurt me, I wouldn’t hurt you! Would you like me to cut my fingernails, is that it? I’ll cut them now if you like. I’ve only got them because I’m frightened Phillip might attack me again. Look. Look! Don’t say anything. Just watch.”
She rummaged in the desk drawer and produced a pair of scissors. Before he could say anything, she was chopping at her fingernails with such force that shards were flying off. Within a few seconds she’d rendered herself defenceless.
“There!” she said, shaking with the trauma. “There! I’ve done it!”
He moved from his chair and put his arm round her. “You didn’t have to - ”
“I did! I wanted to!”
She started to cry. His whole idea had been an idiotic one. What the hell had he been thinking? She had completely outmanoeuvred him, not through guile but through its opposite. He held her while she sobbed. After five minutes, she seemed to regain a measure of control. She looked at the ground and sniffed.
“I’ve decided it’s okay,” she said.
“What’s okay?”
“You being gay.”
“But - ”
“I don’t care. We don’t ever ... ever have to have sex. We can be like Will and ... Will and Grace, except that you have to look after me and cherish me. You can have ... have sex with lots of men, I won’t mind. I’ll even pay ... for them to come to the house, if you like: rent-boys, whatever. And we’ll go on g-g-gay pride marches in B-Brighton and San ... San Francisco. When Charles dies, I’ll probably inherit some money, and I’ll ... I’ll buy us a house anywhere in the world – you can choose: somewhere on t-top of a mountain, preferably – and we can live there together, for ... for ever. So long as you don’t have sex with any wom - women. Except me, of course. But obviously, th-that couldn’t happen: I can accept that. I just love you so much. I just want it to be like the day we first met, for ever, and ever. Because that day really affected me. I didn’t ... didn’t realise till afterwards. But it was ... it was like an earthquake. I used to be horrible. But never again, really. Not with you be-beside me, gay or not. Just p ... promise me one thing?”
“What is it?”
“You won’t ... get AIDS. I couldn’t bear that: if you got AIDS – or anything else: don’t get cancer, either, or ... or heart disease. I couldn’t bear to lose you. We’ve found each other. There’s millions and millions of people in the world, and we’ve found each other. Isn’t that wonderful?”
It was now or never. The truth suddenly bore down on both of them with an authority of its own, demanding to be admitted regardless. It was no longer about his or Noonie’s happiness versus Susan’s happiness. Somehow unnoticed, things had moved on. No consequential considerations mattered at all, any more. When he finally spoke, it was as if he was driven by outside forces.
“Susan, I’m in love with Noonie.”
Susan carried on crying for a few moments. He finally decided she hadn’t heard him.
“I’m in love with Noonie,” he said.
She wiped her eyes and looked at him. “No, Edward. No, you’re not.”
She held his gaze and stopped crying. There was an intensity to her voice quite different to anything she’d used till now, a kind of passion in neutrality.
In that moment, he realised she already knew. In the way one knows information that refuses to register. Everything he’d said about being gay had been a preferable alternative. This was the one prospect she couldn’t face, even to see if she could accommodate it. And yet, horribly, he could see the process of acknowledgement was already under way. Horribly, because he could already see its end point. There would be nothing left of her afterwards.
“We can still be friends. I - ”
“Of course we can still be friends,” she said, in the same tone as before. “Because that thing you just told me, a moment ago, isn’t true, is it? It’s another of your jokes. It’s not a lie or anything like that. But I know it isn’t true, because Vivienne ...” Her voice tailed off. She struggled. “Because Vivienne ...” She gave a sigh and started again. “Vivienne ...” She looked frightened and her voice shook. “I can’t seem to - ”
“Susan - ”
“I - I want you to leave now, please. I need to think.”
“Maybe that’s not such a good idea.”
“I said I want you to leave.”
“But - ”
She stood up and picked up the bouquet. “I need to put these in some water.”
She went to the door. He stood up to stop her although he had no idea how, or what he would do.
They emerged from the Study together. Suddenly, the door to the living room opened. Noonie and Thanongsak stepped out.
The two couples stopped to look at each other. For a few seconds, they were all motionless.
Then Susan detached herself and ran upstairs. Her exit was closely followed by those of Thanongsak and Noonie.
Edward was still too shell-shocked to react. But then he collected himself.
He decided to go after Thanongsak.
