Chapter 49

He told himself it was just out of curiosity. And a good precaution. After all, an amicable divorce would be much cheaper and a lot less personally wearing than one that was hotly contested and acrimonious. If Susan wanted a chat, he should just roll with it, make no promises, be a genial friend with a sympathetic ear but avoid any sort of commitment. He had a new confidence after the ‘Natasha snatch’ as he had come to think of it and felt he could deal with anything Susan might throw at him. He had chosen the restaurant carefully. The ambience, in so far as it had one, was the antipathy of intimacy. The place was favoured by people in a hurry who would not know good food from bad and presumably enjoyed displaying traditional English stoicism when confronted by mediocre food and service at an unjustifiable price. He had deliberately arrived early so as to be ‘on the plot’, as he thought of it, before Susan arrived. He had to wait almost three quarters of an hour while waiters sighed and huffed around him because Susan had decided to be late so as to avoid any risk of being seen to be waiting for George. He stood formally and smiled what he hoped was a neutral smile. Susan smiled a similar smile and, seating herself carefully, accepted a Campari – something George had never before known her to drink. It was intended to unsettle him and did.

“Hello,” he said. “You’re looking… well.” Susan knew she was looking more than ‘well’ because she had been determined to give the appearance of a strong, independent woman and had taken several hours getting it right.

“Thank you. You look well too. How are you?” Damn! She had also been determined not to appear interested in George. Maybe it was okay. “Are you still living in… Croydon?” That was better. The note of distain sounded quite good.

“Yes, yes. Nice little house. Very friendly.” Bugger! Why had he called it ‘little’? And sleeping on the sofa was anything but nice. Their starters arrived. The interval between ordering and delivery suggested that the avocados and prawns had been prepared to order by having the cling-film removed. The first mouthful also suggested that they had been waiting patiently in a very cold refrigerator.

“Lovely.”

“Mmm.” They ate in silence for a while.

“So, Maurice tells me you wanted to see me.”

“Well, there is quite a lot to sort out and I thought that… well… we might be able to sort it out amicably.” The waiter whisked away their plates. There’s the house and things like that.”

“Yes, yes. Of course. So… how are you managing? Everything okay?”

“Yes, yes; fine. But we can’t really leave things in the air, can we?” She paused. “Look… I’m really sorry about Susanna. It must have been dreadful. I mean…well… I think you behaved like a shit.., I actually had you followed for some time; did you know? But, well… I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. So… I’m sorry.”

“Thank you Susan. That’s very, er… civilised of you. Actually I’m pretty much over it. You know me.”

“Yes. I do.” Their main courses arrived. They tucked in. The food was outstandingly average.

“Lovely.”

“Mmm, isn’t it?” They finished as much as they could without conversation. They were still chewing when the waiter presented the dessert menus and whipped away their plates.

“What are you going to do now, George? You can hardly shack up in a rented house in South Croydon for the rest of your life.” George had been thinking exactly the same himself.

“I’m not sure. I might go back to Greece and live quietly there. And cheaply. To be honest, cash is getting a bit short and I’ll have to start selling investments before long.”

“Let me pay for lunch, then.”

“No, no. It’s not that bad yet. Do you want a dessert? I really can run to that without difficulty.” He smiled.

She smiled back. “I think I’ll give it a miss, thanks.”

“Cheese? Coffee?”

“On the evidence of what we’ve had so far, I doubt they could manage either.” The waiter appeared to take their dessert orders. “I hope you enjoyed you meal sir and madam. Can I get you a dessert?”

“Yes, yes. That was great,” said George, “splendid. I don’t think we could manage a dessert. No, nor coffee. Just the bill, please.”

“So what are we going to do?” asked Susan. “Shall we sell the house and split the money? There’s other stuff, too, isn’t there?”

“I suppose so. Have you got yourself a solicitor?”

“Yes. I have.”

“Well, why don’t we just get them to do the fighting, if there is any? We’ll… er… stay out of the settlement negotiations as far as possible. I’d like us to stay friends, if we can.”

“Oh yes! So would I.”

The bill arrived and George paid. He added a tip on top of the service charge. “Well, it was good to see you and I’m glad you’re all right.” He smiled to show he was being facetious. “You’ll be hearing from my solicitor, as they say.”