Chapter Six

THE MEN WITH Jake were extremely nice to Nel, she thought.

‘Let me take your coat,’ said one. ‘God! It weighs a ton!’

‘It was my husband’s, and it was his father’s, so it’s ancient. But very warm.’

‘I should think so,’ said Jake briskly as he went and hung it up for her.

The group was obviously well known at the restaurant. ‘Ciao, ragazzi!’ said the head waiter. ‘Oh, you have a lady with you. How nice!’

Nel tried to match her smile to the mood of those around her. ‘Hello.’

‘She’s with Jake, Luigi,’ said one of the men, who, Nel had to keep reminding herself, could not be thought of as boys.

‘Really?’ Luigi looked Nel over critically yet appreciatively. Nel could have felt offended, but somehow didn’t.

Luigi pulled the table out from the banquette and Nel squeezed round so she could sit down.

‘Now, let’s get some drinks in, for goodness’ sake,’ said Jake. ‘Nel, have a Brandy Alexander, it will do you good.’

‘What is it?’

‘Just have it,’ said Jake crossly. ‘And we’ll have the usual quantity of beers, some sparkling water and a bottle of red wine. That do for everyone?’

Judging by their expressions, ‘everyone’ was rather surprised by Jake’s brusqueness.

‘You’re the boss,’ said one.

‘That’ll do, Dan. Now let’s all sit down.’

‘Let’s introduce ourselves again,’ said Dan, ‘or Nel won’t have a hope of remembering all our names.’

‘She doesn’t need to remember your names,’ snapped Jake.

‘Yes, she does,’ said Nel. ‘I’m hopeless at it, but it’s good practice. Besides, I can’t call you all “you”.’

‘Right,’ said Dan, taking the lead. ‘We all work together. I’m Dan, this is Nathan, Paul, and Jezz. And we’re all dateless on a Saturday night, so we decided to go out together.’

‘On the pull, as you said,’ said one, possibly Paul.

Nel decided to ignore this. ‘And I’m Nel.’

‘We know,’ said Dan. ‘There’s only one of you, so it’s easy for us to remember.’

‘I’m going to the loo,’ said Jake, and got up.

‘Well, this is a turn-up for the books,’ said Dan, when Jake had gone. ‘We didn’t know Jake had a girlfriend in the country.’

‘Oh, I’m not his girlfriend! Perish the thought! I mean, I’m sure he’s awfully nice and all that, but . . .’

‘But what?’

‘It was just coincidence that we met this evening.’

‘We know that,’ said the one next to her – Jezz? ‘But he wouldn’t have got so worked up when he saw you if you were just acquaintances, would he?’

‘I don’t know how worked up he got, but actually we’re adversaries. He’s acting for the Hunstantons—’

‘And you’re the one objecting? All is now made clear.’

‘So,’ went on Nel, probing in spite of herself, ‘you don’t have to worry about him two-timing his girlfriend in London.’

‘Has he got a girlfriend in London?’ asked Paul. ‘He’s kept that dark!’

‘Of course he hasn’t,’ said Dan. ‘If he had we’d know about it.’ Dan turned to Nel. ‘Jake got divorced about three years ago. He hasn’t shown any sign of being interested in a woman since.’

‘Once bitten, twice shy, I expect,’ said Nel.

‘How about you? Married? Divorced?’

‘Widowed, actually, but not looking for a new relationship.’ It hadn’t taken Nel long to realise that Jake’s London colleagues took far too much interest in his personal life.

‘Why not?’ asked the one with very short hair and a shiny face, who Nel assumed must be Nathan.

‘None of your business, Paul,’ said Jake, rejoining the party. ‘I must apologise for my colleagues, Nel. They’re worse than a bunch of girls for wanting to get everyone paired off. Has everyone ordered?’

There was a chorus of ‘No!’

Nel had begun to enjoy herself. In the company of these friendly, entertaining men, she almost forgot why she was there in the first place.

‘You’re all very frivolous for lawyers,’ she said.

‘Is that a complaint?’ asked Dan.

‘Certainly not, I just didn’t expect you to be jolly. I would have thought you would spend your spare time discussing the finer points of law.’

The guffaws and hoots which greeted this remark could have felt unkind, except that Nel was used to being laughed at by her children, and could tell when the humour was affectionate.

‘I’m afraid lawyers are just as bad as everyone else,’ said Jake.

Nel regarded him. ‘And worse in some cases.’

The moment of stillness was quickly buried by another joke, but Nel wished she hadn’t made that remark. It was inappropriate. However badly she felt Jake was behaving over the building and her rather abortive attempts to protest against it, he was being nice to her now: the brusqueness had disappeared and he was proving as entertaining as his colleagues.

She couldn’t let it stand. She put her hand on his to claim his attention. ‘I didn’t quite mean that like it sounded.’

He gave her fingers the smallest squeeze, to acknowledge her apology, and the awkwardness was past.

Jake didn’t laugh quite so much as his colleagues. They were younger than him, but she got the impression that he was usually a bit more lively than he was being now. It was her presence, she realised. She had spoilt his evening. She resolved not to allow herself to be talked into dawdling, and leave the minute she’d had a cup of coffee. She could get a taxi back to the club.

‘Who’s for pudding?’ said Dan. ‘Nel, have the zabaglione, it’s to die for.’

‘I think I should be getting off—’

‘Sit down,’ said Jake, firmly. ‘Have a pudding. And Dan’s right about the zabaglione. It’s not even fattening.’

Nel glared at him with a mixture of horror and outrage. ‘How do you know?’

‘It can’t be, it’s full of air. Besides,’ Jake put his hand on hers. ‘It’s still far too early to go to Chill.’

‘Are you going to Chill?’ Paul asked. Come with us instead. We’re going down to the Pool Hall. The drinks are a rip-off, but the music’s great.’

Nel found herself laughing. A Brandy Alexander and two glasses of red wine had certainly taken the edge off her anxiety. ‘I’m not going clubbing,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m going to check up on my daughter.’

‘Is she pretty?’

‘Very,’ said Nel. ‘Or at least, I think so.’

‘She’s very pretty,’ said Jake.

‘I didn’t know you’d met her.’

‘I haven’t met her, but I saw her that time at the market. I recognised her easily, she looks just like her mother.’

Nel realised there was a compliment hidden in there somewhere, but couldn’t accept it. ‘She doesn’t, you know. She’s blonde and blue-eyed, and I’m – not.’

‘You’re still alike. Something about the eyes.’

Nel sighed. She simply couldn’t see the resemblance.

‘So, “zeebag” all round?’

‘No, not for me, really,’ said Nel. She had a card and a certain amount of cash, but she didn’t want to use it all on her share of the meal.

‘So it’s just the lads, then, thanks, Luigi,’ said Dan.

‘If now is still too early, what time can I go to the club, then?’ asked Nel.

‘Not till midnight at the earliest,’ said Paul.

‘Good God!’

‘Is she still at school?’

‘Yes. A levels soon.’

‘I’ve never worked so hard for anything before or since as I did for my A levels,’ said one.

‘Nor me. GCSEs were a happy breeze. A levels stank.’

‘Your parents must be very proud of you.’ Nel suddenly felt parental, something she hadn’t felt all evening.

‘Yeah, I suppose. They were thrilled when I got good grades. Have you got other children, apart from your daughter?’

‘Yes, two boys at university. One’s in London, and he would have come with me to the club, only he couldn’t.’

‘You don’t look old enough to have children at university,’ said Paul.

Nel smiled in a way that made it quite clear she knew she was being flattered, and didn’t believe it. ‘Thank you. I’m also Queen of the May.’

‘No, really,’ Dan persisted. ‘Don’t you agree, Jake?’

Jake didn’t answer immediately. ‘I think Nel’s a very attractive woman. Age has nothing to do with it.’

Fortunately for Nel, who was completely dumbfounded, the puddings arrived at that moment. Tall glasses full of golden foam were set in front of all the men.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind?’ asked Dan.

‘Quite sure. It does look heavenly, though.’

‘Here.’ Jake passed his spoon across the table. ‘Try it.’ He put the spoon into her mouth, and although they were in a crowded room, at a table full of laughing people, Nel suddenly felt the gesture was curiously intimate, as if it was something he shouldn’t have done in public.

‘It is delicious,’ she said. And it was: warm, fluffy and alcoholic.

‘Have another mouthful,’ said Jake.

She opened her mouth to refuse, and another spoonful was delivered. ‘Really, that’s enough,’ she said when it was gone.

Jake was serious when he looked into her eyes. ‘Coffee now, then.’

Nel didn’t drink coffee often, but she nodded when the others ordered it. If her clubbing experience wasn’t to begin until after midnight, she’d need some nervous energy.

‘Grappa?’

‘Whatta?’ Nel couldn’t help flirting with Dan. He was so safe and friendly.

He laughed back. ‘It tastes of lighter fuel, but it’s somehow delicious. Have some.’

Nel decided that there was probably a cashpoint machine somewhere between here and the club, and that she should just stop worrying about the money and enjoy herself. It was still only half past eleven.

Three cups of coffee, two grappas and several amaretti biscuits (all of whose papers had been lit and wishes sent) later, Nel got up to go to the Ladies.

Once there, she pulled her fingers through her hair a few times and put on some lipstick before actually confronting her reflection. Long ago she had realised there was no point in knowing how awful one had looked all evening. Once these preliminary preparations were over, she took a good look.

Her long black V-neck jumper was satisfyingly slimming. It covered her tummy and hips, and with her black trousers and long jacket, it was a flattering look, if somewhat sombre. She had never worn black to mourn her husband, but now society felt mourning was no longer appropriate, she wore it a lot. She had a good colour, and it didn’t drain her like it did so many people.

But she was going to be too hot; already her cheeks were a little flushed. She decided that Mark’s overcoat would keep her warm enough on the way to the club, went back into the cubicle and removed the jumper. Under it she was wearing a little black top, which might have been underwear, or might have been a proper garment. With the jacket on top this would have looked moderately respectable if it hadn’t shown quite so much cleavage.

Nel inspected the cleavage. It was, she decided, quite nice. But was it appropriate to show so much of it, even if it was one of her best features? When you’re young, she reflected, there are bits of your body you don’t like, and you feel if it weren’t for your thighs, or your nose, you would be perfect. Now she was over forty a bit of critical scrutiny brought her to the conclusion that her teeth, her skin and her cleavage, were all . . . OK, but the rest of her was best ignored. Mark had always liked her bosom. Simon had probably never seen as much of it as was on display now, and Jake . . .? She tugged her top up a bit. What Jake thought about her top half was neither here nor there.

She put her jacket back on. Her arms were one of the bits she no longer liked to display, except in summer when they were tanned.

She stuffed the jumper into her capacious handbag, clawed at her hair a few more times, partly out of nervousness, and went back to the others. It was lucky her hair was in a style which could take a fair bit of clawing, she thought. She’d have wreaked havoc with an elegant chignon long since.

‘I’m going to take you to the club,’ said Jake. ‘The others are going to the Pool Hall.’

The trouble with leaving a group of men to go to the loo was that it gave them the opportunity to make decisions without consulting you. But the thought of actually going into the club by herself (that’s if she was even let in), was incredibly daunting. It was one thing to know that it was the right thing to do, that you were doing it for Fleur, to tell yourself that that was what you were going to do. To actually do it, especially alone, was another thing entirely. Knowing she didn’t have to was a great relief.

Nel’s mother had always described her husband Mark as a ‘man to ride the water with’. She’d probably describe Jake the same way – only of course she’d be quite wrong, thought Nel, which proved that not even dead people know everything. What would her mother have thought of Simon? Wondering why she should choose this moment to ask herself that question, Nel decided her mother would say he was a nice man, but would never set the world on fire.

Now she said, ‘Oh, OK. What about my share of the bill? If I put in twenty pounds, will that be about right?’

‘The firm is paying,’ said Dan. ‘It owes us. And we have an entertainment budget that is seriously under-spent. So put your money away.’

Nel put her head on one side. ‘You seem to have thought out that little speech in advance.’

‘Yes, well, Jake said you were bound to be difficult about letting us pay.’

She regarded him, unsure if she should be indignant or not. ‘I have no idea why you would have thought that!’

‘Experience,’ said Jake. ‘You’re always difficult.’

Silenced, Nel allowed Dan to hold her overcoat and got into it.

Once outside the restaurant, a taxi drew up quite soon and Jake opened the door for Nel. ‘We’ll take this one. Get in, Nel.’

‘But I haven’t said goodbye!’

Each of the four men kissed her warmly and she kissed them back. They were very smoothly shaved and smelt of cologne. Nel decided it was nice being kissed, and wondered, as she settled herself into the taxi, if fancying men younger than yourself was a sign of getting old. Before they’d travelled more than a few yards she’d decided that yes, it was.

‘This is very kind of you,’ she said, a moment or two later. ‘I would have been all right on my own, and I’ve spoiled your evening.’

‘Have you ever been to a club before?’

Nel thought back to her very well-spent youth. That was the trouble with getting married young; you don’t get much time to misbehave. ‘Well, the odd discothèque, you know.’

‘Exactly. And you haven’t spoilt my evening. I spend a lot of time with those lads.’

‘So you live and work in London, mostly? Not in the country?’

‘At the moment I’m between both places. We’ve taken over a local firm—’

‘Oh yes, with those lovely offices.’

‘Which have now been painted, at least.’

‘And did Kerry Anne choose the colours?’

‘Look, I thought you asked me if I worked in London or the country. I’m trying to tell you. Stop interrupting.’

Nel stopped, mostly because she wanted to listen to his explanation.

‘The local firm was struggling. There’s a historic link between us and them, so I’m going down to re-establish the business, and while I’m about it, decide if I want to move out of London.’

‘And have you decided?’

‘No. It depends on several things.’

Nel managed not to ask if Kerry Anne was one of the things. He would hardly admit it if she was. Kerry Anne was married to one of his clients, after all. Although he had given her that ‘so fun’ time. She sighed, and chided herself for being old-fashioned and jealous at the same time.

‘I spent my school holidays in that part of the world, and the friend I spent them with still lives there,’ went on Jake. ‘He was the one I was playing squash with, when you first saw me.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. Here we are.’

Nel pulled up the collar of her coat and tried to look suitably cool – not easy when encased in several kilos of wool. She let Jake pay the taxi-driver, but had her money ready to pay for him to go into Chill.

The bouncer looked them over, but didn’t comment, although Nel felt he must have wondered why they were there. It would have been a million times worse without Jake, she knew. In fact it might not even have been possible. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to talk much once they were actually in the heart of the club, Nel put her hand on his arm. ‘I’m really grateful to you for coming. They might not even have let me in.’

‘That’s OK. Let’s get your coat checked, and go and find some action.’

Nel had been worried that Fleur would spot her and be furious. Now she was actually inside the club she realised it was going to be very difficult to spot Fleur, even when looking intently. And if she did manage to make her out among the other blonde girls in black trousers and strappy tops, would she know if she was taking drugs? Her whole plan suddenly seemed incredibly flaky. What had she been thinking?

‘Drink?’ Jake bellowed at her over the top of the music.

Nel nodded. ‘Fizzy water, please!’

While she was alone she inspected the crowd and listened to the music. No one was taking any notice of her, she realised, and began to relax a little. She quite liked the music, too, but then she had always liked Fleur’s music better than what issued forth from the boys’ bedrooms. Theirs had no lyrics, no tune, and far too many electronics for her, and Fleur’s was far too ‘middle of the road’ for them.

Jake came up and put a glass in her hand. Nel smiled her thanks and took a sip, thinking how odd it was to be in a club with Jake, the man who until recently had been fixed in her mind as the one who had kissed her under the mistletoe. And after that he had turned into the devil incarnate who, almost single-handed, was depriving the hospice of Paradise Fields.

‘This isn’t water!’

‘No, it’s vodka and tonic. I thought you needed a bit of Dutch courage.’

‘But I asked for water!’

‘You can have water next time.’

‘Next time, I’m getting the drinks!’

Jake smiled. ‘Drink up, then we can dance.’

Nel couldn’t help smiling back. She wanted to dance, she liked dancing. One of Mark’s few faults had been that he didn’t like dancing, and only did it extremely reluctantly – and very badly.

Nel soon lost her inhibitions and was getting into the music when Jake put his hand on her shoulder and pointed. It was Fleur. She was with a tall young man who looked both handsome and prosperous, but not, Nel decided, significantly older than Fleur.

Jake pulled Nel close and said in her ear, ‘What do you want to do?’

Nel turned, and Jake bent down so she could speak into his ear. ‘Just observe her, and see if anyone tries to give her anything, or if money changes hands.’

‘I doubt if it would go on out here,’ said Jake.

‘I’ll know if she does anything odd. At least, I hope I will!’

Jake took Nel into his arms. ‘It’ll be easier for you to spy on Fleur if you’re not jumping up and down. And it’s less likely she’ll spot you.’

‘You’re not telling me I draw attention to myself when I dance, are you?’ She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. It was certainly easier to talk when they were close.

‘You dance in a very original manner,’ he said.

Nel groaned, and let herself melt into Jake’s arms.

Dancing with Jake was really very pleasant, she decided. If she didn’t have to keep her eyes on Fleur, she could have closed them and swayed about to the music quite happily. He smelt lovely. His aftershave was not too pungent, but it was obviously something very expensive. And his suit jacket felt very soft. Probably cashmere, she decided. He had taken off his tie, and his shirt was blue-white in the ultraviolet strobes which zigzagged across the floor.

She couldn’t tell if he was equally happy to be holding her, of course, but he did seem to nuzzle into her a little, although that could have been her imagination. But when he pushed his fingers up into her hair, she knew her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. And she liked the feeling rather more than she would have admitted. Trying to distract herself from the feel of his touch on her neck, she wondered if the reason she pulled at her own hair so much was because she missed Mark’s caresses. Simon never touched her hair – possibly because he liked it tidy, something it never was.

From her slowly rotating viewpoint, Fleur seemed to be behaving in a perfectly normal way. She was drinking something from a bottle, and seemed to dance with a lot of people at once, but that was fine.

Nel’s feet began to hurt, in a way they hadn’t since the last time she had been to a club. Jake was probably bored out of his mind. She reached up to pull his head down so she could speak to him. Just for a split second, it looked as if he was going to kiss her. But then he presented his ear to within a few inches of her mouth.

‘I think I’ve seen enough. Shall we go?’

‘If you want to. It is a bit noisy.’

‘And I don’t think Fleur is going to do anything revealing.’

‘Then let’s get out of here.’

He forged a path through the crowd, in the nick of time, as it turned out. Just as she left, Nel turned for a last look at Fleur and saw her daughter frown, as if she’d recognised her mother. I’ll have to lie, she thought. I’ll say I was in town, having dinner with friends – a friend – and we thought we’d go dancing. I’ll say I never saw her, or of course I’d have come over and said hello.

‘Come on!’ Nel muttered under her breath, as the girl took ages finding her coat. ‘I’m sure Fleur spotted me,’ she said to Jake. ‘She might not have recognised me for sure, but I really don’t want her to follow me. This is no place for a confrontation.’

‘Well, I’m glad you worked that out, finally,’ said Jake, putting a two-pound coin into the saucer as Nel’s coat was produced.

‘What do you mean?’ Nel’s voice seemed to be an octave higher than usual, and sounded very squeaky.

‘Come on. Let’s go home.’