It was eleven by the time Kate and Maggie finally rolled home to the house in Church Hill. It was still warm. For a few moments as Kate stood by the back door, her heart ached for all those nights already spent, the nights she had stood here as a child, as a teenager and a young woman, looking up at this view, the moon glowing down, framed by the house, the magnolia and the ever-murderous laburnums. The night’s canvas was as black as Indian ink. Clear and fine, the sky was littered with a million stars and Kate realised that here with Maggie was the first time she had truly felt safe and at peace for a long time. Nothing had fundamentally changed, Kate was aware of that. There was no magical solution to the things that haunted her, but for the first time since she had arrived in Denham, Kate had a sense of sanctuary, a real sense of coming home.
‘Well, that went a lot better than I’d thought it was going to,’ said Maggie, sounding tired, manoeuvring herself across the hall and into the kitchen with the aid of crutches.
Kate looked at her and grinned. ‘It’s quite remarkable that you can do that after so much red wine.’
Maggie snorted and lowered herself very gingerly onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table. ‘My arms and shoulders ache and my leg is throbbing like crazy. I think maybe I’ve overdone it,’ she spoke through gritted teeth and then, once she had lifted the cast up onto a chair, added, ‘Julie Hicks has changed, hasn’t she?’
Kate handed her a mug of coffee and a bottle of painkillers. ‘I almost heard the total disbelief in your voice then, Mum. Mind you, the same thought kept going through my mind. She’s so straight now that it’s scary. I kept thinking that this couldn’t be the same girl who used to roll up here first thing in the morning for the walk to school with a fag on, purple hair and eyeliner so thick she could barely see.’
‘Remember when she came round in a black leather miniskirt, basque, black stockings and suspenders? I thought your dad was going to explode,’ said Maggie with a grin.
Kate giggled. ‘And you asked her where she was going and she said Girl Guides.’
Both women burst into a peal of easy unself-conscious laughter.
Across the table Maggie stretched and then yawned dramatically. Her colour was rapidly fading away as if tiredness was stealing her resistance to the pain. Despite a lot of makeup the bruises and stitches still looked deeply painful.
‘I’m going to bed now; I’m totally shattered. Would you take my coffee through, please? I can hardly keep my eyes open. I just want to nip to the bathroom. Although,’ she said, the grinned fixed, ‘maybe nip isn’t the word I’m looking for.’
Kate nodded and as she reached the doorway said, casually, over one shoulder, ‘Would you mind if I popped out for a little while tomorrow? I’ve been invited out to lunch.’
Maggie didn’t miss a beat. ‘Of course I don’t mind Who are you going with then? Julie Hicks or the good-looking vet?’
Kate opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.
‘Not that it’s any of my business, of course,’ Maggie continued, bobbing off towards the loo, ‘but I think it’s getting to the point where I ought to know what’s going on. I checked the phone when we came in; there are eleven calls from Joe on the caller display and God knows how many messages. I can’t imagine he’s that desperate to find out how I’m getting on.’
As she got to the door Maggie looked back, beading Kate with knowing eyes. Kate, still looking for words, wasn’t sure whether she wanted to protest or apologise but Maggie shook her head.
‘Don’t panic, I haven’t listened to any of them but I think that it’s time we talked whether you want to or not. I said this morning when we were discussing Guy that however much we love each other there are just some conversations that parents and children aren’t meant to have, that I wouldn’t dream of meddling in your affairs without your asking me. But if I were worried about something then I’d tell you. Well, Kate, I have to say I’m worried and nothing that you’ve said or done or any of the evidence so far have eased my concerns.’
Kate stood very still. Unable to find any words that sounded even vaguely appropriate.
‘And another thing.’
‘Yes.’ Kate braced herself for whatever was about to come next.
‘Tomorrow morning can we put one of those plastic garden chairs in the shower cubicle and wrap my plaster up in a bin liner? I could really do with a shower, I’m sure that I stink.’
Kate laughed with a heady combination of amusement and relief. ‘Of course you don’t stink, don’t be ridiculous – you had a wash before we went to Julie’s.’
‘I don’t care, a wash doesn’t count, I feel dirty.’
Kate nodded. ‘Okay. We’ll do the shower thing tomorrow then.’
‘Good. Good night and sweet dreams, darling.’
And with that she was gone, swinging and hopping off towards the downstairs loo.
Kate set one coffee alongside the sofa bed that was made up in the sitting room and then took her own mug through into the dining room. Switching on the lamps it was looked as if she was creeping back into a nest or a den that she’d built earlier. Her papers and things were still there, all arranged in a neat arc around the laptop, flanked by pens and Post-it notes and the detritus of her working life. Late or not, Kate turned on the computer and checked her email. The modem kicked in, burring and whizzing, and then the mail retrieval system announced that she had no new messages.
Kate sat for a few moments staring at the empty in box with an odd but very real sense of regret and loss. Maybe honesty, both hers and Sam’s, had driven him away. Maybe he didn’t want to sort his life out or hear how she felt about being betrayed by someone just like him.
Kate sighed. It was a risk she had had to take although it felt as if somewhere she had lost the key to all sorts of knowing and understanding. There was nothing much else to do other than close the computer down. Feeling tired and heavy, Kate picked up the phone. She ought to check on the messages Maggie had told her about. In her current mood they felt like splashes of icy cold water.
Joe: ‘Kate, I’m surprised that you haven’t rung. The boys are okay. Missing you obviously and there are all sorts of odds and ends that they need sorting out – sports kits, some form or other that Jake needs for a trip, where things are generally. I just wanted to talk, you know – see how things are going. I’ll ring you later.’
And then, ‘Where the hell are you? It’s nine o’clock.’
And then later still: ‘Kate, I can’t believe you, this is really beginning to piss me off, pick up the bloody phone, will you?’
They got worse, much worse, the last one just a string of furious expletives.
Feeling sick and shaky, Kate looked up at the clock. It was too late to ring Joe now. Maybe it had been a mistake to try and avoid talking to him but there was no way Kate could or wanted to put it right tonight. She’d ring him first thing tomorrow, although even as the thought formed Kate wondered what on earth she would say to him, what she wanted to say – after all the reason she’d gone to Julie’s had been to avoid talking to Joe in the first place.
Picking her mobile out of her bag Kate switched it on, bracing herself for more of the same but here at least it was as quiet as the grave – there had been two calls from Joe but he hadn’t even bothered to leave a message, perhaps he had finally run out of ammunition. The only one was from Bill.
‘Hi Kate, I appreciate that maybe you don’t want to talk to anybody at the moment but the offer’s still open if you need me. You know where I am. The boys are fine. I popped round tonight.’ He laughed. ‘Danny collared me to help with his homework. It’s amazing – I don’t think we did that stuff in science until we were at uni.’ And then his tone dropped to something more serious, ‘Kate, Joe’s not coping with this very well at all. I don’t suppose that comes as any great surprise but I thought you ought to know. If you get this message and want to talk … I don’t have to tell you this, do I? Night, night, sweet dreams, hon.’
Kate’s eyes filled up with tears. How could it be that the world appeared to be filled with so many men who would happily listen to her when her own seemed deaf? And then it struck her that of course Joe wasn’t deaf at all. He was just deaf to her.
No doubt Chrissie could confide in him, tell him her secrets and her fears, and no doubt he listened or at least pretended to, as convincingly as Bill or Andrew or even Sam57. Kate shivered. It was too dark a thought to contemplate for more than a few seconds.
She glanced back at the computer screen and then re-read the emails she had sent to Sam. She could feel a headache coming on. Such a shame that truth was such a difficult and poisonous pill to swallow. But she couldn’t have knowingly written to man who was married without saying something, it made her no better than Chrissie. Kate rubbed her eyes telling herself it was tiredness, not tension, her moods at the moment seemed to be as tidal as any ocean. Switching off the machine and heading upstairs to bed, Kate’s mouth was as full of a bitter taste as her head was full of bitter angry thoughts.
‘Why don’t you go home, Joe?’ Chrissie said briskly. ‘Come on,’ while trying to encourage him to his feet by getting to hers. ‘It’s getting late and I’ve got to be up early for work. Up you get.’
It was ridiculous. She had wanted to see him so much over the weekend, wanted to talk to him to make sure everything was okay, longed for some comfort, and now she would be bloody glad to see the back of him. Without Kate to balance Joe out he was a complete mess.
‘Do you want a hand, Mum?’ asked Robbie, appearing in the sitting room door. He had been home about half an hour but far from looking as if he was about to go to bed, he had showered and was dressed up like a dog’s dinner.
She shook her head, ‘No, you’re all right I can manage, love. He’s going home now, aren’t you, Joe?’
Robbie looked at Joe in disgust and then headed towards the hall.
‘Robbie?’
He reappeared at the door. ‘Yeh?’
‘You’re not going out again, are you?’
‘I’m just going to the club with some of the lads from work.’
‘Any idea what time you’ll be back?’
He grinned. ‘No need to wait up, I’ll probably crash round at Paul’s tonight.’ He lifted the holdall he was carrying. ‘But don’t worry I’ve got me toothbrush and a clean pair of pants in case I’m run over. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He brushed her cheek with his lips. He smelt wonderful and she envied him so many things that it made the breath catch in her throat.
‘What is he doing here anyway?’
Chrissie shrugged. ‘I don’t know really,’ she lied. ‘He and Kate had a row, I think he’s just looking for a shoulder to cry on.’
Robbie tutted. ‘You want to get her to come round and fetch him then. He looks as if he’s going to throw up. He’s such a loser.’ And then when Robbie saw how upset Chrissie was, he continued more gently, ‘Are you sure you don’t want any help with him before I go? I could take him back next door. I’m used to dealing with drunks.’
Oblivious to the two of them, Joe took another pull on the can in his hand and belched dramatically. ‘She won’t talk to me you know. Won’t ring, Christ alone knows how many messages I’ve left on the bloody answer machine for her. She said she wasn’t sure that she wanted to put it right. What the fuck does that mean, eh? What am I going to do? She even won’t talk to me.’ He looked up expectantly at Chrissie and Robbie.
‘I love you,’ he spluttered, eyes filling up with tears.
Robbie glanced heavenwards as Chrissie waved him away. ‘Go on, off you go. Be careful.’
‘You too,’ said Robbie, casting one more glance at Joe.
‘Why won’t she talk to me?’ said Joe, turning his attention back to Chrissie. ‘We need to talk.’
Chrissie didn’t know what to say other than, ‘Kate’s not talking to me either, Joe. But she’ll be back on Friday, you can talk to her then. Come on, let’s get you home. It’ll be fine, don’t worry, you’ll sort it out. You need to give her a little more time, that’s all.’
A little more time? In her heart Chrissie doubted that Kate would ever speak to her again. A century wouldn’t be enough to heal the look of hurt and disbelief she had seen on Kate’s face when she walked into that kitchen. It was an image Chrissie was trying hard to forget but it kept resurfacing and now was so close that she could almost feel Kate’s breath on her face.
Slouched in an armchair, Joe shook his head, the gesture over-large thanks to God alone knows how many cans of lager. ‘It’s not right you know.’
Chrissie was thinking much the same thing, there was no way she wanted to end up with Joe by default. It wasn’t fair, she wanted a man of her own, a man who she had chosen, who would love her and look after her and hold her in the night and tell her that everything would be all right and mean it. With Joe almost exactly the reverse was true; he was not so much an equal as a high maintenance hobby.
Joe hadn’t made any effort to move, a little gobbet of spit clung to his chin. He hadn’t shaved for days and looked as if he might have slept in his clothes.
‘Come on, you have to go home now, Joe,’ she said, more forcefully this time, grabbing hold of his free hand and attempting to pull him to his feet. It was like trying to move a sack of damp pebbles.
Joe looked up at her and blinked, once, twice, his big eyes filling up again as he pulled her down on to his lap. He stank of beer and worse and crushed her to him so that she could barely breathe, let alone move.
‘You know that I love you really, don’t you, Chrissie?’ he slurred, as she tried to extricate herself. Chrissie grimaced levering herself back onto to her feet. Men could be so naive – they had no idea that sometimes love alone was nowhere near enough.
For the first few moments when Kate woke on Wednesday morning she had absolutely no idea where she was, just a blissful sense of free fall; sunlight flooded in through cream nets, the air was still with just a distant soporific hum of traffic. Far from panicking, Kate had a sense of peace and calm and being totally at ease, which lasted for as long as it took for her head to fill up with thoughts about Joe and Chrissie, Sam57, and Andrew the vet. Odd how overnight he’d turned into another source of pressure.
It felt almost as if she had been robbed. Getting out of bed, Kate wondered if there was any way to make the cacophony of voices in her head shut up.
It was early – before seven – but despite there being no hurry Kate showered and went downstairs, not wanting to be alone with her thoughts.
In the sitting room, Maggie was already awake and flicking through the channels on early morning TV. She looked exhausted and Kate wondered how much sleep she’d had.
The only comforting thing, Kate noticed, was that she had the walkabout phone tucked alongside her. Kate hoped that once she had picked up her messages Maggie had rung Guy and wished him goodnight and snuggled down with him. She suppressed a smile. Odd how quickly things change.
Odd, too, how quickly life settled down into a routine; she made tea, helped Maggie to get up and dressed, sorted out breakfast for the two of them, while Maggie hopped off to the bathroom – they had tried the shower trick and it worked a treat – and then Kate opened up the French windows to let the day in before settling down in the dining room to get on with her work.
Along with everything else, Kate had a peculiar sense of unreality; being back at home with Maggie felt as if she was playing house. This couldn’t be real life, this was the de-stressed, uncomplicated version of living that didn’t have Joe or Chrissie or the boys or running a house in it.
Kate glanced up at the clock; thinking of pressure and responsibility, she ought to ring Joe before it got late and even more awkward. Time to open the door and let real life back in. She let the clock register in her mind so she could work out if he would be too busy with breakfast and sports kit and getting the boys off to school, or on his way to the office, to talk to her. If he was going in to the office, that is – Kate couldn’t remember what he was doing this week or whether he had any work booked or not. Glancing down at the dining table, Kate realised that for the first time in God knows how many years she was no longer custodian of Joe’s diary.
Her own was open on today’s date and on the page was a neat list of work things waiting to be worked through, ticked off, mailed out. She had a deadline for an advertorial on a coach tour to Biarritz, a couple of recruitment ads, and half a dozen telephone interviews to do for the in-house catering magazine that her agency handled.
‘Jake swimming club @ lunch time,’ was all it said in the top right hand corner of the page, the piece of the page she allocated to domestic arrangements. If Joe was away or had something on, Kate usually duplicated the information here but it appeared that she hadn’t written anything down for him at all this week. Nothing, as if he had never existed. Gone. Kate stared at the page.
No Joe; it was a scary possibility. What would she do if they really couldn’t go back, couldn’t fix it? What would life be like if they couldn’t find a way home from this? It was almost impossible to imagine. They had been together so long. Kate had grown up with Joe, so many of the big milestones in her life had been marked in his company.
They’d met when she was eighteen, doing a job at a recruitment agency in the long summer before she went to uni. Staying with her aunt in London had seemed like a huge adventure. She’d even got a buzz hopping on the bus into work every morning. It was like Kate had finally grown up, finally arrived. Meeting Joe had been the icing on the cake. Compared to the guys in Denham, he had seemed so worldly and so knowing. Kate allowed herself a wry smile; hard to believe it was the same man really. They had known each other for nearly twenty years now. Jesus, could it really be that long?
She’d gone out with Joe all the time she was at uni. Him driving up to see her in a battered Mini van, her travelling down by train until they could afford to get a place together. They’d got married a month after she graduated. Kate sighed; all those years ago it had seemed like they were on the edge of a huge adventure. What could she possibly ever put in their place? Worse still, what if Chrissie hadn’t been the first? What if there had been others? In her imagination one became a dozen and then a dozen more. How long had Joe been playing her for a mug? For a moment Kate had a glimpse of life without him.
She closed her eyes, making the effort to still her mind.
At around twenty past nine, when the rush and panic ought to be over, Kate picked up the phone, tapped in her home number and waited. Someone picked it up on the ring before the machine cut in.
‘Uhuh,’ said a familiar voice.
‘Danny?’
‘Mum?’
It would be very difficult to work out who was the more surprised.
‘What on earth are you doing there?’ she said. ‘You ought to be at school.’
There was a peculiar little pause; Kate could almost see him scrabbling round for a half-decent excuse. ‘Overslept,’ was the best he could come up with at short notice. ‘But I’m going now. Well, in a few more minutes, I’m just waiting for my toast to do.’
‘What about Jake? Where’s Jake?’
‘He’s still here too but I’ve got him up. He’s just doing his teeth and looking for his kit.’
‘What on earth is going on –’ she began, and then decided annoyance probably wouldn’t do any good at all. ‘You’ll need to ring the school and tell them that you’re on your way. This is not on, Danny, what happened? Did you forget to set your alarm? Where’s Dad?’ demanded Kate, meaning will you please pass the phone to him.
There was pause and then Danny said, almost as a throwaway remark, ‘I dunno. He’s not here.’
‘What? What do you mean he’s not there?’ Kate was genuinely stunned, her mind instantly galloping around looking for an excuse and explanation, almost as desperate to defend Joe as to condemn him.
‘Dunno. He wasn’t here when I got up this morning.’
‘What do you mean wasn’t there, when did you last see him?’ Kate asked, trying hard not to let the panic drown her voice.
‘Last night, ‘bout half ten. After Bill went home I went upstairs to finish my homework off, and Dad was down here watching the box.’
‘Right, okay, well, maybe he had an early meeting and forgot to say anything, probably thought you should be able to get yourself sorted out,’ Kate said, taking a deep breath. ‘Get yourself ready for school and I’ll – I’ll …’ what could she do? She was two hours’ drive away. ‘I’ll sort it out.’ It sounded good.
While Kate was trying to think, her brain was mawkishly shifting through the possible permutations. In an instant she had Joe swinging from a beam in their bike shed, his face crimson, tongue hanging out like a kipper tie. Or maybe he had been squashed under a night bus like a beetle – this despite her rational mind telling her that the most likely explanation was that he was round at Chrissie’s or possibly Bill’s. Although Joe being at Bill’s did come as an afterthought.
Or maybe he was still in bed sleeping it off? Had Bill’s comment about Joe not coping well been a polite euphemism for pissed out of his skull? That was also highly possible. Joe’s way of coping with stress almost inevitably involved running away and hoping a grown-up would come along and sort it out for him.
‘You okay, Mum?’ asked Danny cheerily. ‘How’s Granny Maggie?’
Kate coughed to fill the silence, ‘Yes, I’m fine, love, just fine, and Granny’s fine – a bit tired and very sore but she’s okay. Go and get you and Jake sorted out and I’ll ring you later.’
‘Okay, see ya,’ said Danny.
‘Give my love to Jake, and love you too.’
There was a little pause and then Danny said, ‘Miss you.’
Kate wanted to cry. ‘Me too. Can you just check Dad’s not still in bed and then I want you to get yourself off to school. I’ll ring and let them know you’re on your way and if Dad turns up in the meantime tell him to call me.’ Kate didn’t like to add, ‘So that I can ask him what the hell he thinks he’s playing at,’ although she was certain Danny could fill the gaps in for himself.
‘What, before they start dredging the Thames?’ he added as a final shot.
Kate smiled wryly. Danny might have his father’s looks but he most definitely shared her sense of the macabre.
‘What do you mean, he’s not there?’ said Bill incredulously. ‘Of course he’s not here; I wouldn’t have let him leave the boys on their own.’ Now Bill sounded affronted and indignant as well as concerned.
Kate wasn’t altogether sure why she rang Bill first – maybe it was because she could use the sympathy, maybe it was because she held out a frail hope that at the last minute Joe had come good and not scuttled next door to Chrissie’s.
‘Do you want me to see if I can find him?’
They both knew exactly what Bill meant.
‘No, but I’d be grateful if you could check up to make sure the kids have gone to school.’
‘Sure, no problem, anything else?’
Kate wondered whether to ask him to check in the bike shed just in case, but realistically Joe wasn’t the hanging kind. ‘No. Oh yes, wait, Bill. How much had Joe had to drink last night?’
The silence told Kate everything she needed to know. ‘And how drunk was he when you left?’
‘He wasn’t really drunk, Kate, he was just a couple over, you know how he gets. I told him to get himself off to bed.’
‘Thanks, Bill,’ she said.
‘Let me know if he’s at Chrissie’s, if not, I mean if there’s a problem, I can have the boys tonight if you like.’ Momentarily Kate reconsidered the bike shed, wondering if Bill knew something that she didn’t.
‘Thanks, I’ll let you know how it goes,’ was all she could manage before hanging up.
Kate rang the school, and Joe’s mobile, which was switched off, leaving the most obvious number until last.
Chrissie didn’t answer the phone, not that Kate had really expected her to.
Kate let it ring and ring until the machine cut in and then said, ‘Hello, Chrissie, this is Kate. I need to know if Joe is there. Joe, if you’re there and you get this message, call me.’
Once she had hung up, work went very slowly.
Bill rang to say that as he was going round to her house he’d met the boys on their way to school and that Chrissie’s house looked all shut up. He’d knocked on the door but there were no signs of life.
No sooner had Kate put the phone down than it rang.
‘Kate?’
‘Joe, where the fuck have you been? The kids have only just gone to school.’ Kate couldn’t help herself, it wasn’t the most useful way of starting a meaningful dialogue but she was furious. ‘Anything could have happened to them.’
‘Don’t take that tone with me. Why didn’t you ring? Why didn’t you answer my messages? I was worried.’
‘So worried that you got completely hammered.’
‘Who told you that, oh let me guess. Bill, the boy wonder. For your information I wasn’t drunk.’
‘Really, so what was it then? Malaria?’
‘Stress. I only had a couple of cans. Where were you when I rang?’
‘Out.’
‘Yeh? Out where?’
How come she was defending herself? Wasn’t the shoe supposed to be on the other foot?
‘I took Mum out to a house-warming party in town. But it doesn’t matter what I was doing.’ A vivid image of sitting side by side with Andrew flashed unbidden through her mind and made her blush furiously. ‘Where were you?’
‘You care?’
Kate felt the fury rising up, ice cold and unstoppable ‘You want the truth, Joe? At this moment I couldn’t give a tin shit where you were or who you were with, but I do care about what happens to the boys. You’re supposed to be at home looking after them.’
‘I was, I just nipped out for a little while and anyway, they’re old enough to look after themselves for a few hours; it’s you mollycoddling them that’s the problem, that and you up there gadding around with your mother.’ He sounded petulant and peevish and thuggish.
What else was there to say? Presumably Joe had decided that this was not the moment to talk about all the things that he’d had on his mind the night before because he said, ‘I’ve got to go,’ and slammed the phone down, leaving Kate listening to the uninspiring burr of the open line.
Shaking, Kate went back to her laptop and re-read the holiday itinerary she was supposed to be waxing lyrical about. Tempting people off to explore Europe seemed pretty irrelevant by contrast to the other things that were going through her mind, but those were the things that kept the baby in shoes. Kate read the brief and then read it again, longing for it to catch hold of her mind and carry her away but today the magic door just wouldn’t budge.
She stared unfocused out into the garden. Maybe she should just give up and go home. It was ridiculous that Joe couldn’t even get it together to look after the kids for a week. Kate was hurt and angry and eventually, cramming the chaos back down, she started to type. It was like pulling teeth and by mid-morning Kate gave up and opened up her email.
‘Morning,’ said Sam57. It seemed that he had written to her at around the same time that she had been speaking to Joe.
Thanks for your email – the things you asked knocked me back a bit but I suppose I should have expected as much. I’ve been thinking about you a lot since then and given a lot of thought to the things that you said.’
Kate cleaned her glasses so as to see his message more clearly.
The problem is I can’t find the words to tell my wife I’ve moved on, not without hurting her. It’s like saying that the life we have together isn’t good enough, that she isn’t good enough any more. But it isn’t like that, or that simple. It’s like we’ve both changed and she hasn’t noticed or maybe it’s that she refuses to notice. I don’t know who she sees when she looks at me but it isn’t who I am any more.’
Kate shuddered. Was that what had happened to her and Joe?
Had they lost sight of each other too, somewhere in amongst building a family and paying the bills and trying to make it through the day?
‘But I will tell you, Venus, because in an odd way it helped me to get a clear picture of what’s going on here. How’s your day going?’
Kate looked at the screen, touch-typing the letters so they appeared almost as if by magic.
‘Dreadful so far. I’ve been trying to work – work’s usually a great way to take my mind off the rest of the madness but it isn’t doing it today. Last night I went to a party and got myself chatted up, which is amazing, those sort of things never happen to me. It’s as if I’ve got this sign above my head that says married, unavailable – but not last night. This guy’s asked me out to lunch today and I’ve said yes. Not that it means anything, in fact sitting here writing to you I’m not altogether sure why I agreed to go at all. I suppose it was flattering; I don’t know, maybe it felt a bit dangerous – sauce for the goose and all that kind of thing. But now I’m going because I can’t think of a good enough reason not to.’
Kate looked up at the clock; she ought to be getting ready.
‘Got to go now, Sam, talk soon,’
Kate typed and then pressed send and switched off the machine, feeling as if she was going to an execution. What on earth had made her accept Andrew’s invitation in the first place? It was cruel as well as being totally mad.
‘Hi Kate, how are you? You look absolutely terrific,’ said Andrew, getting to his feet as Kate walked into the cool dim interior of the riverside pub. For a moment they stood facing each other, just a fraction too close, not sure whether to shake hands, embrace or just sit down. Kate felt a little flutter in her belly but wasn’t altogether sure whether it was nerves or – unexpectedly – lust.
Andrew looked gorgeous. Kate made a mental note to get her libido checked; was this the same woman who had driven all the way down here thinking of good reasons to drive straight back home? Lust wasn’t meant to play any part in this. Andrew ran his fingers back through his hair. He was wearing a cream and blue narrow-striped granddad shirt and jeans. He looked kind and craggy and outdoorsy and she realised with a horrible surety that she fancied him. This was not how it was meant to go at all.
Moments passed. They both looked at each other as if they were waiting to be rescued. In the end it was Andrew who leaned in closer and, catching hold of her by her elbows, kissed Kate on both cheeks. It was an odd gesture, a little coy, a little self-conscious, and yet far more familiar than Kate had expected.
‘I wondered if you were going to show up. Not that I thought you’d stand me up or anything, I didn’t, I mean um – er, what do I mean?’ The uncomfortable silence hovered, waiting. ‘What would you like to drink?’ he asked suddenly.
‘Something long and cool and non-alcoholic would be good,’ she said, glancing towards the counter. ‘Orange juice and lemonade?’
Kate was unintentionally a few minutes late. It had taken longer than she remembered to drive to the river, and as she had driven down long forgotten lanes she had wondered by turns whether Andrew would wait and what the hell she was doing. In some ways it might be better if he thought he had been stood up and left. But, as Kate pulled into the car park, there was his jeep parked up under the trees, so she hadn’t missed him and he hadn’t run home.
He nodded. ‘Right – okay. Shall we go and sit down?’
There was a handful of people in the bar, more out in the conservatory eating lunch. Kate realised with a start that she was seeking out familiar faces.
‘You look good enough to eat,’ Andrew said, still holding her elbow, blushing almost as much as Kate as he turned to guide her towards a table overlooking the locks and the Great Ouse. Before she could reply Andrew winced for her, and said, ‘Sorry, that was awful, straight out of the oily creep’s book of smart lines. I’m hoping it’s just nerves and that it’ll pass.’
‘It’s all right,’ she said, ‘I was about to giggle and blush furiously. This is ridiculous. I feel about fifteen,’ she said, wondering if they had really got this far the night before? Kate had been stone cold sober all evening. There was no denying the chemistry between them, but maybe Andrew was reading too much into it … wasn’t he? Or was it her?
‘Which was about how old you were when I first noticed you,’ he said. If he got much redder he would explode, Kate thought.
‘You noticed me when I was fifteen?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘And are you saying you fancied me when I was fifteen?’
‘I think I probably am.’
Kate nodded. ‘Okay then, in that case maybe it would be better if I did giggle and blush. God, this is hard. How about if we pretend that we’re not out on a date at all?’
Andrew laughed. ‘What and spoil the fun? I’d forgotten how weird this feels. When you walked in I got that funny little kick in the bottom of my belly.’
She pulled a face. ‘Probably just hungry.’
As they turned towards the dining room, Kate caught sight of her reflection in one of the mirrors behind the bar; Andrew was right, the prospect of seeing him had done something to her face. She looked light and full and sunny, quite stunning, despite being dressed casually in a white tee-shirt tucked into jeans, with a little sleeveless grey fleece over the top, her long red brown hair rolled up into a wispy top knot.
As they walked, his hand rested easily in the small of her back, lighting a tiny fire that she had no idea was ready and kindled. Once they were settled at a table Andrew handed her a menu and moved slightly closer.
‘I’ve been thinking about you all night. It’s bloody ridiculous. I couldn’t help it. I don’t know whether to offer you lunch or just take you home and make mad passionate love to you. What do you think?’
He said it in a way that could easily be taken as a joke but for an instant Kate saw the little glint in his eye – not of desperation but of a real earthy desire – and laughed to try and defuse the tension. ‘Just as long as you don’t get the two mixed up; I’m sure it would put the punters off their pasta, and anyway, Andrew, I’m hungry, not easy,’ Kate continued more firmly, scanning the starters, smiling still, trying to hold tight to her composure. The idea of making love over the equivalent of the kitchen table with Andrew telegraphed itself through her body like a rush of silver sparks.
‘Sorry, I wasn’t saying – that was a stupid thing to say – God, I’m so nervous. I haven’t been out with a woman other than my mother in God knows how long. I was up at seven this morning trying to decide what to wear. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I’m better with cows –’ He paused and then said, ‘God no, that isn’t what I mean either.’
Kate laughed. His discomfort was incredibly endearing.
‘Just relax,’ she said, patting his hand. She didn’t tell him that she thought his nerves were sweet or that he looked mouthwateringly gorgeous, instead she slowly turned the pages of the menu and tried to focus on the food, conscious of her wedding ring.
Kate had considered, while upstairs getting ready, whether to take it off, well aware that whatever she did with it, it said something very loud and inescapable about the state of play, if not to Andrew, then to herself.
‘So,’ Andrew said, catching her eye, ‘what will it be then?’ And they both knew he wasn’t just talking about the shrimp pâté served with crisp slivers of French toast and baby leaves in a raspberry vinaigrette.
For an instant Kate looked up into his face and felt that odd little thrill of stars track down her spine again.
‘Why don’t you ask me again after we’ve eaten?’ she heard herself say with a lighthearted laugh.
God, this wasn’t just bad or mad it was getting very, very dangerous.
Looking relieved, Andrew smiled and indicated the menu. ‘And how about for lunch? The fish here is great, mind you, so are the steaks.’
‘I really don’t know what I want.’
Andrew’s eyes didn’t leave hers. ‘Maybe I can help you with that,’ he said, all nervousness gone, and then he leaned across the table and kissed her. Gently, soft lips exploring hers, tentatively as if expecting to be rebuked.
Kate was stunned, almost too stunned to make herself pull away. She gasped, struggling to breathe. This was way too much, much too soon. Her heart upped its pace and she jerked back, blushing, and totally unsettled.
‘Oh my God,’ she whispered, looking down at the menu again, struggling to compose herself, ‘which page of the oily creep’s book of smart lines did that come from?’
‘It didn’t,’ he said. ‘That was all me.’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Kate. She’d have to be dead to miss the intensity in his voice, but before either of them had a chance to say anything else, Kate’s mobile rang. Without thinking, and in part to defuse the electrical storm that arced between them, Kate snatched it out of her handbag and pressed answer.
‘Kate?’
It was such a stupid thing to do. A great wave of something hot and fluttery and uncomfortable rolled through her.
‘Chrissie?’ she said, feeling her stomach instantly tighten into a clenched fist.