A Question of Love (37 page)

Hi, this is Laura, sorry I’m not here…

It rang again. Then my mobile trilled out and I ignored

that too, and then my landline rang a third time. The red light remained illuminated. He was leaving a message.

‘Laura,’ I heard. ‘Pick up if you’re there will you? Please Laura. I’m really sorry. But I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d go crazy and I know it looks awful, but Magda was totally hysterical about Steve—she was really depressed—and so she said I couldn’t take Jess, so we had this huge row, and I said it was wrong to penalise Jess for her own unhappiness, so then she said that I could take Jess—but only if she came too; and of course I didn’t want her to come, but she was making all sorts of threats and then she got Jessica to apply pressure as well so I was put in a position where it was impossible to say no, and I didn’t want Jess to miss the trip—she’d been looking forward to it so much. But I felt so bad about you, and I didn’t want to hurt you. I upgraded to a suite so that of course Magda’s not in the same room as me—she’s sharing the room next door with Jessica—but I told her not to pick up the phone.’ I heard him groan with frustration. ‘I told her not to pick up the phone,’ he repeated dismally. ‘But look, we’ll have a nice weekend somewhere together, just the two of us, maybe Prague or Budapest, no not Budapest obviously, I meant Bucharest, or maybe Barcelona. I haven’t been to Barcelona for years and I’d love—’

I pressed ‘Stop’. Then I showered and dressed. Today was May Day. The first of May. But I am
dis
Mayed, I thought. I put on flat shoes, and went out.

I walked up Portobello, where a few market traders were already starting to set up their stalls, then I went up Kensington Park Road, passing E & O with a pang, remembering Luke’s anguished telephone conversation with Magda on our first date; then I went through Ladbroke Square, and along Holland Park Avenue, past the tube, and now I was at the top of Clarendon Road. I stopped on the corner. I could see Hope’s house, the curtains drawn back. I rang the bell. No reply.

‘Hi Laura,’ she said, on her mobile a few moments later.

‘Are you there?’ I asked her.

‘No,’ she said, giggling. ‘We’re
here
.’

‘Where’s “here”?’

‘At Babington House. It’s Mike’s birthday.’

‘So it is. Sorry—I forgot.’

‘Don’t worry. I decided to whisk him off for a long weekend. It’s heaven—we’ve just been for a swim—and how are you?’ ‘I’m…okay.’ I didn’t want to spoil her happy mood. ‘Give me a call when you’re back.’

I phoned Fliss.

‘Hello?’ I heard her croak. She sounded exhausted. She’d obviously had a rough night with the baby.

‘Fliss—can I come round? I’ve just had a bit of a shock you see and—’

‘
You’ve
had a shock?’ she interrupted. ‘Well you’re not the only one! I’ve had a bloody
nightmare
—Hugh and I have had the most
awful
scene.’

‘Why?’

‘Because last night my computer crashed, so I logged on to his laptop—I know his password—and I found these e-mails. From
her
.’

‘Who?’

‘Chantal! You were
right
, Laura. I didn’t believe you—
fool
that I am—I thought it was just a business thing, but you were
absolutely
right. He said he couldn’t wait to see her again, and how he’d like to take her away for the weekend somewhere and…’ I heard a sob. ‘And her e-mail said she couldn’t wait to see
him
…But how
could
he? How could Hugh
do
that to me? He’s such a
bastard
. There we are with a seven month old baby—ooh can’t talk. It’sallrightdarling-mummy’scomingdon’tcry…‘

She hung up. I was relieved—I couldn’t cope, I had enough problems of my own. Now I crossed the road and went into Holland Park, up the steep slope and into the cool of the woods, last year’s leaves compacted and dry underfoot as I walked along the sun dappled path.

I told Magda not to pick up the phone. I told her not to…

So if only Magda had done as he’d asked, I would never have known. Was that it? Worse, he’d involved Jessica in the deceit—he must have done—because he knew she might blurt it out sometime, or show me her photos. Now I remembered the other time when he’d asked her to keep quiet.

You won’t tell Mummy that you met Laura tonight will you?

I remembered the droop of her head.

I was so angry my feet hardly touched the ground as I powered round the park, barely registering the thrusting lushness of everything, the carpet of bluebells in the woods, the flowering cherries in the Japanese garden, the glorious wisteria flowing over the walls of the Belvedere in a wash of lilac, the peacocks screeching on the lawn. Then I skirted the cricket pitch and left the park and now I was walking up Kensington High Street, some of the shops already open for Sunday trading, then along Kensington Gore past Kensington Palace, then I came to the Albert Memorial, Albert refulgent in the bright sunshine, beneath his gothic canopy, and turned in. I walked through Hyde Park, dodging the helmeted cyclists and abstracted looking roller-bladers, the Sunday fathers pushing buggies, the dogs running and playing, and, worst of all, the happy couples strolling hand in hand beneath the oaks and the London planes or canoodling on the chlorophyll grass.

Is that Magda?
Still energized by anger, I walked up the eastern edge of the Park and found myself at Speakers’ Corner where the loonies were shouting out their insane beliefs.

- AN ALIEN INVASION IS IMMINENT…

- THEY’RE POISONING THE WATER SUPPLY…

- SO LET’S PUT THE GREAT BACK INTO GREAT BRITAIN…

- PRINCESS DIANA’S ALIVE!…

I pushed through the crowds of bystanders who were looking variously interested, bored, puzzled, or amused. I wanted to get up on a soapbox myself and deliver the deranged monologue which had been running through
my
head for the past hour and a half.

Now I cut back across the park and skirted the Serpentine, where ducks and moorhens bobbed about on the silty water; and now I was passing the Lido and the café, where people were sitting outside, having coffee, their faces uplifted to the sun. I pressed on, my left hip beginning to ache now as my feet pounded the path.

‘Laura!’ I heard. I stopped—then groaned inwardly. This was all I needed. ‘You look like you need a little sit down if you ask me.’

‘Nerys.’

‘How
nice
to see you.’ She was smiling at me with genuine delight. I felt a spasm of guilt for not being friendlier to her at work.

‘What are you doing here?’ I asked. ‘Sorry—I just mean, I’m surprised to see you.’

‘My flat’s not far away—in Paddington.’

‘Of course. I’d forgotten.’ Today her hair was the colour of teak.

‘So I come here every Sunday—whatever the weather. I feed the ducks. I watch the world go by.’ She gestured to the other side of the lake. ‘I watch people boating. There’s nowhere like it,’ she concluded happily.

‘That’s nice,’ I said as her features began to blur.

She patted the bench. ‘I should have a breather if I were you, Laura. You look all in.’

‘I think I will.’

I sank down next to Nerys, suddenly glad of her company. In front of us, at the water’s edge, some coots were squabbling over a piece of bread. I tried to remember the collective noun for them. What was it? I’d committed so many of them to memory, but my mind had gone blank. I knew it wasn’t a ‘flock’ or a ‘flight’, or a ‘gaggle’…A ‘cover’—that was it, wasn’t it? A ‘cover’ of coots?

‘Are you all right, Laura?’ Nerys asked; she gave me an oblique but penetrating glance.

I swallowed. ‘Yes, thanks Nerys. I’m fine.’

‘Are you
sure
?’ she said kindly. That was it. Now, at last, I burst into tears…

‘It was the shock of it,’ I wept.

Nerys shook her head. ‘So that’s your day ruined then—oh dear.
Oh
dear,’ she tut-tutted. For someone normally so full of herself, she was a sympathetic listener. ‘So his ex picked up the phone. Don’t upset yourself, Laura.’ She handed me a tissue. ‘But he shouldn’t have done that—he really should
not
have done that.’

‘It never occurred to me that he
would
.’

‘But from what you say, he spends a lot of time with her.’

‘Yes,’ I croaked. I pressed the tissue to my eyes. ‘It’s so that he can be with his child. It’s the price he pays.’

‘No, Laura.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s the price
you
pay.’ I didn’t reply. ‘Anyway, children or not,’ she went on briskly, ‘he can’t go away with his ex when he’s got you—that’s not on, is it? He should have cancelled the trip if you want my opinion.’

I smiled. For once I was delighted to have her opinion.

‘He didn’t want to disappoint his little girl,’ I stared across the lake. The sun glinted on the water.

-
Jessica means everything to me. I miss her.

-
Sometimes I just sit on her bed and cry.

-
The separation’s been hard for her.

…just watching her sleeping…

- You’re joined to them—here—at the heart.

‘He adores her,’ I went on. ‘His love for her overshadows everything else, which means I often draw the short straw. It’s been so…frustrating, Nerys. We’ve been together for three months, but I’ve yet to spend a
Sunday
with him. I still feel as though I’m waiting for our relationship to start properly.’

Across the lake, a teenage boy was struggling to make one of the rowing boats go forward. His oars kept catching.

‘Why do you put up with it, Laura?’ I heard Nerys say.

Hope had asked me that too, and I’d replied that it was a question of love. But I knew now that wasn’t the answer.

‘It’s because…’ I felt my throat constrict. ‘You see…the last three years…’ Nerys’ face had blurred again. I looked down at my lap, and watched, with a detached interest, as a large tear splashed on to my hand. ‘All my confidence had
gone
. I didn’t know how to be with anyone. How to have a relationship. I hadn’t been on a date for so
long
. Not since I first met Nick over ten years ago.’

‘There there, Laura.’ I felt the light consoling pressure of her hand on my arm.

‘I’d made this decision to move on, but I was terrified…But then, out of the blue, there was Luke, and he wanted to be with me so I said yes. I was trying to seize the day.’

‘No,’ said Nerys. ‘You
weren’t
trying to seize the day.’ I looked at her. ‘You were trying to seize
yester
day.’

I stared out over the lake, her words rippling through my mind as though she’d just lobbed in a huge stone.
You were trying to seize yesterday…
It was so, so true. I’d resolved to move forwards, but instead I’d gone backwards.

‘Can I give you some advice?’ I heard Nerys say.

‘Yes,’ I replied. For once I wanted to hear it.

‘What I’ve always thought is…’ She hesitated. ‘I’ve worked with you both for over two years now…and, well, every time I see you together I just think how well you get on, and how sort of “right” you seem together…No?’ I was shaking my head. ‘He thinks the world of you, Laura. He’d be lost without you—he often says that.’

I looked at her. ‘Does he?’

‘Yes. He often says how marvellous you are—and how clever.’

‘I’m not clever,’ I said bitterly. ‘I’m a mug.’

‘He says how attractive you are too.’

‘No. I’m a “
jolie laide
” with delinquent hair and size fortyone feet.’

‘But he feels you’ve never seen him in that way,’ she went on, ignoring me.

‘To be honest…I don’t think I have.’

‘Why not, Laura? You like him, don’t you?’

‘Yes. Of course I do. Tom’s wonderful.’

‘Then what’s the
problem
?’

‘Well…He’s seeing someone apart from anything else.’

‘
That’s
not going anywhere,’ Nerys said with a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘Come on Laura, what’s the real reason?’

I didn’t want to tell Nerys the real reason and diminish her respect for Tom. She hadn’t been working for him at that time. It would be disloyal to him, and unfair on her—she admired him so much.

‘Is it because he’s your boss?’ she persisted.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘That’s the reason. It’s too…difficult.’

‘I don’t know.’ She shrugged. ‘People often date their colleagues.’ I thought of Hope—she used to work at Kleinwort Perella, she met Mike on a training course. ‘Anyway, don’t miss your chance, Laura. I missed mine,’ I heard Nerys add, ‘twenty-five years ago. Not a day goes by when I don’t regret it.’

‘Really?’

‘I knew such a nice boy—Patrick—we dated for two years in our mid-twenties, and we got engaged. But then I had my head turned by this other boy—Alan—and I broke it off with Pat. Pat held a candle for me for three years but by the time I realized my mistake, it was too late—he’d got married. He had three kids and is still happily married apparently, while I…’ Her voice caught. ‘I’ve always regretted not marrying Patrick when I had the chance because, for whatever reason, another chance never quite came my way.’ She wrapped her fingers around her gold locket. But how sad to keep a photo of him, I thought. A constant reminder of what might have been. Nerys saw me glance at it. ‘Here…’ she said gently.

‘Don’t Nerys,’ I said. ‘Really. It’s too personal.’

‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘I don’t mind showing you.’

She prised it open with a crimson thumbnail.

Two tiny, avian faces stared out at me, one yellow, one green.

‘That’s Tweetie,’ she said, pointing to the left hand side, ‘and that’s Pie. I’ve had them for eight years now.
Lovely
company, they are—they whistle their little hearts out they do, the darlings.’ Suddenly her mobile trilled out. ‘Hello, Tom. What? Oh
dear
.’ She was shaking her head and tut-tutting. ‘Oh
dear
,’ she repeated. ‘Poor Dylan. Well I
kept
telling him to be careful on that motorbike of his didn’t I? I said to him, you want to be careful on that motorbike of yours, Dylan.
He’s come off his bike,
‘ she mouthed. ‘
Broken his wrist.
I see, Tom…So you need help…Of course you do…no, it’s definitely too big a job for one person…Well, as it happens, I’ve just bumped into Laura. We’re sitting by the Serpentine…Yes. It
is
nice. Very nice…Lovely day for it. No…she says that’s fine. She’ll be with you in twenty minutes. She’s delighted to help.’ She snapped her phone shut.