Bella Summer Takes a Chance (16 page)

‘Those are the only reasons for someone leaving?’

‘I’m afraid so. Unless you have a breakdown, but then you’d tell everyone you’re travelling around the world. That makes it sound awful, doesn’t it? It wasn’t really so bad. I enjoyed some of the work. It just wasn’t the most fulfilling job in the world.’ He nodded at my look. ‘Yes, I know. I shouldn’t moan about being fulfilled given the packet we earned. Granddad says the same thing, don’t you granddad?’ He shouted the end of his sentence.

‘It’s obscene the money those people earn. For what?’ The Colonel snarled. ‘We defended countries, civilians. We didn’t expect millions for it. We did our job and we did it proudly.’ He sounded ready to break into Churchill’s ‘We shall fight them on the beaches’ speech. He was right, though. It was hard to justify the salaries of teachers or firefighters or soldiers against those of bankers. Or consultants, come to think of it. I’d been paid a lot to be the business equivalent of a closet organiser.

‘I’m sure you’re glad you made the move. Or that the move was made for you.’

His phone rang again. ‘During grant time, not really, no. Will you excuse me again? I’m sorry.’

‘No worries, go ahead.’ Mobile phones were as bad as fussing babies – immensely aggravating to your companion yet an irresistible draw to you.

‘I really am so sorry, B., to hear about the job,’ said Marjorie as The Grandson headed again for the pavement, muttering into his handset. ‘I know you were very excited to go.’

‘Thanks, Marjorie. It’ll be fine, really.’ Seeing her concern certainly put my job loss into context. Here was a woman who’d buried a husband and child by the age of twenty. And then Charles, her second husband, left her in love and in the lurch. ‘Please don’t worry about me. I’ll find the right path,’ I said, thinking about all the demos sitting on bookers’ desks.

I could smell Mattias’ culinary handiwork from the front door and my stomach growled despite the scones, and cakes, and sandwiches I’d eaten with Marjorie.

‘Consolation chicken,’ he said, kissing me on the cheek as he took my coat. ‘I figured comfort food was needed tonight. Come in. Wine?’

I nodded and threw myself on the sofa.

‘Tell me,’ he said, handing me a large glass. ‘What are you thinking?’

It felt good not to hold anything back. I realised that my conversation with Marjorie and The Grandson hadn’t been as honest. Partly I’d put on a brave face for Marjorie, but I also didn’t want them to see me scared. I didn’t mind showing Mattias that vulnerability.

‘B., come here.’ He gathered me up. ‘I’m here for you. I won’t let anything bad happen, okay? You just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.’

When his lips found mine, I didn’t resist. The kiss was gentle, slow, absent of passion but infused with comfort.

‘Thanks, Mattias,’ I said, breaking away and settling back on my end of the sofa. ‘I’ll let you know if I need anything. I’m sure it will be fine.’ I felt the mask settle back over my face. ‘It’ll be fine.’

Dinner was relaxed. He indulged my chatter. ‘Tonight’s about you, not me,’ he said every time I asked about him.

I was alert to the possibility of another kiss when I left. But he didn’t try, instead hugging me close and kissing me on the cheek. As I hurried to the Tube I wondered whether I’d wanted him to kiss me. I honestly didn’t know the answer.

Chapter 13

After weeks of job applications without even the sniff of an interview, the time came to face a rather sobering conclusion. I could pay my rent for three or four more months, which wouldn’t be welcome news to Frederick, given his bank’s rather strict view about his mortgage payments. There was always the chance that a job would come through before I started living off my overdraft, or that one of the band bookers would give in to my pestering phone calls. But there was also the chance that they wouldn’t.

As the panic welled up, an uncomfortable solution demanded my attention, until I could no longer ignore it. After all, I did own half a flat. Unfortunately, so did my ex-boyfriend. The thought of having to move back in made my stomach churn. But the alternative was to sell up and split the proceeds. Which couldn’t happen overnight. Especially during a recession. I had to do something soon. I told myself that it would only be for a few months, until I found another job. It was purely a financial decision. I’d make sure he knew that too.

At least that gave Kat and me something to talk about over lunch that didn’t involve her husband being a lying, cheating bastard with a penchant for pockmarked conquests. I knew I’d have to tell her eventually but, God, I did not want to.

I wasn’t one of those good advice people. Faith was. She could break any bad news with just a soupçon of empathy, enough to show she was really listening without tipping into overemotional made-for-TV drama territory. She’d know exactly how to broach the subject with Kat. I was tempted to tell her, but chickened out. In case I was wrong. In case I’d misinterpreted the entire situation. There was a slim chance of that. Wasn’t there? I’d been wrong before and sometimes with disastrous consequences. In university I unleashed holy vengeance on a boyfriend who I spotted in a bar with another woman when he told me he was staying in to study. To say that his sister was surprised by my tirade was an understatement.

James didn’t have a sister.

‘Hello
Spatzl
, you are late.’

‘Kat, it’s two and a half minutes past one. I’m not late.’

‘Technically, yes you are. But I don’t mind. I love you and I’m in a wonderful mood today.’

She definitely didn’t know about James. Enter: friend about to break a woman’s heart. ‘Why a good mood?’

‘I said wonderful mood. Shall we order some champagne?’

‘Wow, it must be good news.’ As a rule, Kat wasn’t one for bacchanalian frivolity. She preferred her celebrations to be Teutonic: precise and efficient. ‘Is it about the boys?’ I asked after we’d perused the menus.

‘No, it’s about me.’

‘Have you had a facial? Your skin looks great. Not Botox?!’

‘You know I’d never inject poisons into my face. It’d be cutting off my face despite my nose.’

‘Cutting off your nose,
to spite
your face.’

She shrugged. ‘I was going to wait till later to tell you but I can’t. I don’t want you to judge me, though. Okay? Promise you won’t judge.’ I promised. ‘It happened by accident.’

‘What happened by accident?’

‘I’ve slept with someone.’

‘You’ve what?!’ So much for my news.

‘You said you wouldn’t judge.’

‘I’m not judging.’ I was, of course. ‘I’m surprised. Kat, what happened?’

‘It was an accident. A complete accident.’

‘As in, oops, I’ve dropped the butter dish?’

‘You said you wouldn’t judge. And it’s not attractive.’

‘Just to be clear, I take it we’re not talking about James?’

‘No, not James. Rupert.’

‘You’ve slept with a man called Rupert?’ I shouldn’t have been surprised. Kat always went for the middle class toff, the very well-educated man with cousins called Philippa and Eugenie. ‘What about James?’

‘He hasn’t slept with Rupert.’

Humour in the face of adultery. ‘Does he know
about
Rupert?’ She shook her head. ‘Kat, what happened? I had no idea you were unhappy.’

‘Neither did I. Honestly. I didn’t look for someone else. It was completely unexpected, a blast from the blue. He fixed my tyre.’

‘He fixed–’ Given her grasp of English colloquialisms, I wasn’t sure if she meant this literally.

‘Tsch. I got a puncture and he fixed it.’

A vision of the boys cavorting around their stepdad’s yellow and black van emerged. ‘Rupert’s an AA man?’

‘Don’t be silly. He’s a Hell’s Angel.’

‘As in the motorcycle gang?’

‘It’s not a gang, it’s a club.’

‘As in the motorcycle club?’

‘Yes. Don’t look at me like that.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like I just pooed on the table.’

‘Well, excuse me, but I’m surprised. One minute you’re happily married and the next you’re a biker chick. Leather isn’t exactly your thing. Remember when I bought my suede jacket? You hated it.’

‘This isn’t about a suede jacket.’

‘Okay, help me understand. What happened?’

She giggled. Kat never giggled. ‘I was coming back from lunch at Sarah’s, in Plumpton. And I got a puncture about a mile from her house, on one of the little roads. She didn’t answer her phone, and James hadn’t renewed our AA membership. Rupert stopped and offered to help.’

‘What was a Hell’s Angel doing in Plumpton?’ Sussex didn’t strike me as the cultural stomping ground for a bike gang. Sorry, club.

‘Visiting his nieces. He’s devoted to them. He changed my tyre for me and I asked for his phone number to take him out for a drink in London to say thank you. He wouldn’t take any money.’

‘Kat, weren’t you a little concerned to be alone on a country road with a biker who happened to stop by? I mean, that’s how crime novels start.’

‘Don’t be so prejudiced. Bikers are normal people, they just look different.’

‘Yes, different and scary. Does he have tattoos?’

She grinned. ‘Yes. And a ponytail and a beard and all the other things that are making you wrinkle your nose at me.’

‘I’m sorry, Kat, it’s just that this doesn’t sound like your kind of man. He’s too, well, hairy for one thing.’

‘Yes, he’s hairy. So what?’

I wasn’t making things easy for her. But come on. She was a lawyer’s wife and mother of two who lived in Clapham. She wore Prada, not Primark, to bake cakes in her Aga. I just didn’t see her clinging to the back of a Harley. ‘This is just a shock,’ I said. ‘Tell me more.’

‘He’s kind and sensitive and funny and smart. And so sexy!’

‘That’s great, but I meant about how you got together. How he went from your mechanic to your lover.’

‘I called him when I got back to London and offered that drink.’

‘But how did you just disappear for the evening? What did you tell James?’

‘Oh, B. I didn’t have to tell him anything. We hardly see each other during the week. I’m a lawyer’s wife, remember? It’s the occupational hazard.’

I hadn’t thought about Kat being alone so much. She’d mentioned it sometimes when we were out, and James was hardly ever home when we were on the phone together. That must have been a lonely way to live. I wouldn’t want an absentee husband, no matter how comfortable my solitary cage was.

‘So Marta looked after the kids while you… ?’ Met The Hairy Biker for a few hours in hog heaven, I didn’t say out loud, naturally.

‘Of course, the same as she always does when I go out with you. James doesn’t get involved with the children during the week. So there wasn’t anything unusual about my going out. Rupert and I met and I was in love with him by the time we finished the first bottle of wine.’

‘Wait a minute. In love? Kat, it’s one thing to have an indiscretion. That’s enough to worry about. What do you mean you’re in love? You don’t believe in it. Did you have a religious conversion?’

‘I finally met the right man.’

‘What about James being your best friend, and that being the most important thing because “in love” doesn’t exist? Is that no longer true?’ Kat and James were my constant, the poster children for marital stability. I felt like Mum and Dad were splitting up. We’d have to draw straws to see who got me for Christmas.

‘I guess not. I know this is a surprise for you, especially coming from me. But it has happened. I cannot stop it. I’m in love with Rupert. And he’s in love with me. I’m thinking about leaving James.’

‘Hold on just a minute! You hardly know this man.’

‘I know everything I need to. I’ve never been so sure of anything before. I don’t know how I know, but I do. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with Rupert.’

‘Have you told James yet about your change of plans?’

‘No. But Rupert and I are meant to be together. I know it sounds crazy.’ Her laugh sounded a little unhinged. ‘I don’t even believe in fate.’

‘What about the boys?’

She looked like I’d stabbed her. ‘They’ll… we’ll work it all out.’

‘Kat, you’re talking about replacing their father with a hairy biker. I am not one to rain on your love parade, believe me. But what price will they have to pay? Of course you shouldn’t ignore your feelings, but I don’t see an easy solution that won’t risk hurting the kids, and James. Do you?’

Her tears welled up and I knew her announcement wasn’t as carefree as it had sounded. ‘No. I fear something terrible might happen. That makes me feel so guilty.
I’m
doing this. Whatever happens will be my fault. I’m so happy but I know that to stay happy I’m going to hurt James, and maybe mess up the boys. But I don’t seem to have any control over myself, B. I would do anything to be with this man, honestly, anything. How can that happen after just a few weeks? It’s insane.’

I could have told her about James then, and alleviated at least a little of her guilt. But then she’d have the perfect excuse to walk away from her marriage. And it would be just an excuse. She was right. It was insane. She hadn’t had nearly enough time to think things through. For her own good she needed to be logical. Conrad and Jon deserved that. ‘Kat, you’ve got to be practical. How would you support the boys? You haven’t worked in years and it’s not exactly easy to find a job these days. Does Rupert have any money? Could he support you if you didn’t find a job? And the boys, what about them?’

‘James would support the boys. You don’t need to worry about that. Rupert is an engineer. He can support us too. And divorces are much easier these days, not like in the past.’

‘Divorce? Kat, slow down, please! You need to think about this, and make sure it’s the right decision. I don’t know anything about divorce – can you even do it if you’re the one having the affair? I thought the wronged person sues for divorce, not the adulterer.’

She shrugged.

‘That’s one thing you’d better find out before you do anything, don’t you think? And don’t you also think this deserves a lot more rational thought than you’ve given it? Promise me you won’t do anything drastic yet.’