Good at Games (38 page)

“Oh, that's it, I remember now. I dreamed I was a member of Parliament in the House of Commons, heckling the prime minister.”

Lucille grinned. “You also mumbled something like ‘I love that man up there.'”

“I was a very…um…religious MP,” said Suzy. “Talking about God.”

“That's all right then.” Lucille departed with a cheerful wink. “Just so long as you weren't talking about Leo.”

The dream stayed with Suzy, lingering in her mind like an embarrassing faux pas. When, on her way to a viewing three days later, she spotted Gabriella on the pavement waiting to cross Regent Street, she would normally have pulled up and called out a greeting, just to be polite.

But what if Gabriella said, “Oh, by the way, thanks very much for ruining our wedding ceremony.” Unnerved by the thought—God, the dream still seemed so
real
—Suzy pretended not to notice Gabriella, turning an abrupt and unnecessary right onto Royal York Crescent instead. She promptly found herself stuck behind a garbage truck set to crawl the length of the road, holding her up for the next twenty minutes.

If not thirty, once the driver of the garbage truck spotted her. Suzy knew from experience he was unlikely to edge out of the way for a bimbo in a Rolls.

Stretching her arms and letting the engine idle in neutral, Suzy watched Gabriella, in her rearview mirror, lug two heavy paper shopping bags across the road before disappearing from view. Two minutes later she reappeared minus the bags, made her way back across the road, and vanished once more.

It took Suzy a good few seconds of mulling over this sequence of events before it dawned on her that Gabriella had been depositing something at the Oxfam Shop.

The garbagemen, meanwhile, were grinning broadly and going about their trash-emptying business in ultraslow motion. They could keep her waiting there all day if they wanted.

Sighing—because they would only regard this as another form of victory—Suzy shifted gears and reversed the car, highly illegally, up the hill and onto Regent Street.

* * *

Two hours later, heading back along Regent Street in the direction of the office, Suzy glanced instinctively across at the Oxfam Shop.

The next moment, as recognition dawned, her world slipped into slow motion.

“Ohhh myyy Goood…”

Somehow, Suzy managed to park the car, climb out, and make her way jerkily back down to the shop.

There it was, occupying center stage in the window: a wedding dress with a deep-red velvet boned bodice and an ivory satin skirt, teamed with a dark green velvet cloak lined with crimson satin. Dark green beading on the bodice, and deep-red beading on the cloak.

Never Worn
, declared the price ticket clipped to the slender waist of the dress.
£75.

Without even stopping to wonder why she was doing it, Suzy pushed open the door—
jangle jangle
—and went inside.

There was no doubt about it. This had to be Gabriella's dress.

But what was it doing here? Had she changed her mind at the last minute and decided, after all, to go for virginal white?

Or had she—Suzy struggled to keep her clamoring thoughts under some kind of control—simply
changed her mind
?

After ten minutes of standing there in the window like an idiot, fingering the top-quality beading and stroking the soft velvet, Suzy realized she'd been approached by one of the salespeople in the shop.

“Lovely, isn't it?” The woman smiled, her tone friendly.

“Yes, it is.”

“Now I'm not being rude, dear, but I don't think it would fit you.”

“No.”

“See that tiny waist? Gosh, there aren't many girls who could squeeze themselves into something so small.”

I can think of one
, thought Suzy.

Aloud she said, “The girl who brought it into the shop… Um, did she happen to mention why she was, um…you know?”

“Donating the dress to us? No, dear, she didn't say, and I didn't like to ask—although, my goodness, you aren't going to believe it, but this is the very same young lady coming toward us now.”

Suzy, trapped in the middle of the window display, could only turn and stare as Gabriella crossed the road and headed steadily toward them.

The door swung open and shut, the bell above it jangling like Suzy's nerves.

“Hello, Suzy,” said Gabriella. “Spotted the dress, then? Nice of them to give it pride of place.”

“Oh, you
know
each other,” Mrs. Oxfam exclaimed in delight, slipping into garden-party mode. “How marvelous, no need for formal introductions then! This young lady was just admiring your lovely dress, although I'm afraid I did have to point out to her that it might be a trifle…um…”

“Small.” Suzy nodded. “Yes, I think we've all figured that one out. Actually, I wasn't interested in it for myself.” Turning, forcing herself to look at Gabriella, she said, “What happened? Did you find another dress?”

Mrs. Oxfam was standing between them, still doing her hostess bit, nodding and smiling and showing tremendous interest in the conversation. Any minute now, Suzy thought, she'd start handing around canapés and asking if they'd prefer cream sherry or a nice cup of tea.

Evidently reading Suzy's mind, Gabriella said in neutral tones, “Why don't we go somewhere more… How about the café in the covered arcade? Unless, of course, you're horribly busy.”

Suzy
was
horribly busy, but wild horses couldn't have dragged her away now.

“Oh!” Gabriella went on, belatedly remembering the shopping bag in her hand. Passing it over to Mrs. Oxfam she said, “I forgot to bring these earlier. Shoes, to go with the dress. May as well have the matching set.”

* * *

Gabriella insisted on buying the cappuccinos. When she joined Suzy at their corner table in the steamy, aromatic smelling little café overlooking Boyce's Avenue, she said, “I didn't get a look at the price tag in the window. How much are they selling my dress for?”

Suzy piled brown sugar recklessly into her cup. “Seventy-five.”

“Gosh, bargain.” Drily, Gabriella added, “Seeing as it cost three thousand.”

“You could have taken it to one of those designer secondhand shops.”

“Can't be bothered. Anyway, it was Leo's money, not mine. The wedding's off, needless to say. I'm sure you've already worked that one out.”

Gabriella had paid for the coffee, which surely meant that she didn't hold Suzy responsible. This was a comfort, but Suzy still found herself feeling guilty. Dry-mouthed, she said, “Totally off?”

“Oh yes.”

“You mean…you…?”

“No, it was all Leo's decision. Nothing to do with me. Except, of course, it was to do with me,” Gabriella conceded with a tiny shrug. “Because basically, ultimately, he decided I wasn't what he wanted.”

Suzy felt like a cartoon character whose jaw had dropped in shock onto the table. Surreptitiously, she put a hand up to her mouth to make sure it wasn't gaping open.

“How?” she managed to say at last. “How can you not be what he wants?”

It was outrageous. Unimaginable. Clearly, Gabriella thought so too.

“I know, isn't it the most ridiculous thing? He's met someone else, apparently. All he'll tell me is she's the exact opposite of me.”

The exact opposite? As in tiny, elegant, ultra-controlled and super brainy, versus big, flashy, hopelessly impulsive, and super noisy?

Don't even
think
it.
Suzy quashed the idea at once; there was such a thing as wandering just too far into the realms of wild fantasy.

More to the point, how was Gabriella managing to stay so eerily calm? Why in heaven's name wasn't she weeping and wailing like a normal person and kicking stiletto-size holes in Leo's car?

“How do you feel about it?” Suzy felt stupid asking the question, but she had to know.

“Me? Oh well, I think Leo's out of his mind, but that's his problem, not mine. He's met some ditzy good-time girl down at that bar of his, no doubt, and decided she's the one for him. So, fine, if he doesn't want to marry me, that's his loss, and I'm certainly glad I didn't waste my time marrying him.”

God, this was unbelievable.

“But…aren't you upset?”

“I'm not the fretting kind.” With another shrug, Gabriella raised her cup to her perfect lips and sipped her cappuccino. Her hands were rock steady; no hint of a tremor. “Mmm, excellent coffee. It's my medical training, I expect,” she continued easily. “You learn never to panic, to take everything in stride. When you've experienced the horrors of emergency medicine, you're equipped to deal with pretty much anything. Getting hysterical won't bring Leo back, so why bother getting hysterical? Anyway, I've applied for a thrilling position at a prestigious neuropsychiatric unit in Toronto, so there's that to look forward to.”

She actually looked as if she meant it. Still doubtful, Suzy said, “Really?”

“My career's always been incredibly important to me. To be honest, it was a bit of a sticking point between Leo and myself.” Gabriella paused to smooth her ice-blond hair back from her even smoother forehead. “Like the children thing. He wanted them, I didn't. Medicine's always seemed so much more vital than churning out the obligatory offspring.”

“Oh.” Suzy was lost for words.

“Actually, that's a thought. I wonder if Leo's gotten this girl pregnant.”

Oh please God, no. I hope he hasn't!

“Anyway.” Gabriella flapped her hand dismissively and changed the subject. “You and Harry. Do you think there's any chance you two might get back together?”

“What?” Startled, Suzy said, “Me and Harry? Nooo.”

“Poor old you.” Gabriella reached across the table and gave her wrist a sympathetic squeeze. “Never mind, chin up. I'm sure you'll find someone else one day.”

Swallowing hard, wondering if she'd ever felt more unlovable and spinsterish, Suzy said faintly, “Thanks.”

* * *

Still in a daze, she arrived back at the office ten minutes later to find the place awash with panties.

“What d'you think?” Beaming happily, Martin conjured a scarlet silk teddy out of a mound of emerald-green tissue paper and held it up.

“Very glamorous,” Suzy remarked. “All you need now are the fishnets.”

“Oh, you're so funny. This isn't for me, it's for Nancy. They're all for Nancy. We're going to have a Christmas to remember.”

Suzy looked at the lilac satin bra and panties, the silver G-string, the transparent black negligee, fuchsia-pink camisole and matching suspender belt…

“I didn't know Nancy was working as a hooker these days.”

“I spent ages choosing all this.” Martin looked distraught. “I thought these were the kind of things she'd like.”

In its own small way, Suzy realized, it was a miracle. Last year, Martin had gotten drunk at lunchtime on Christmas Eve and had only remembered as the shops were closing that he hadn't gotten around yet to buying any presents. Racing down to Habitat, he had hammered on their just-shut doors until they let him in. The next morning, lucky Nancy had unwrapped six beige bath towels.

This time around, Martin was agonizing over gifts for his wife and there were still two weeks to go before Christmas.

Correction
, thought Suzy.
Estranged wife.

Furthermore, Martin evidently hadn't heard the rumors yet, but the word was out that Nancy was having a riotous fling with one of the salesmen from the Mercedes dealership on Merchant's Road.

So it could be a Christmas to remember, after all.

“Take these back to the shop,” Suzy instructed, feeling sorry for him. “Buy her something she'll love, like a beautiful black cashmere sweater.”

Martin looked horrified. “But that's boring!”

“You're a man, I'm a woman,” Suzy told him kindly. “Trust me, it's not.”

* * *

Suzy knew it was a desperately teenagey thing to be doing, but she couldn't help herself. Leaving the office at six o'clock, she had driven across Clifton, over the Downs and past Sheldrake House.

Just to see if the lights were on, or some such idiotic reason.

To see if Leo was at home.

And he was, which had given her a warm glow in the pit of her stomach. She had seen the lights on as she had approached her old home. Next, and even better, she spotted Leo's Porsche in the drive.

A moment later the warm glow abruptly turned to ice as Suzy glimpsed a second car, just to the left of Leo's. Another Porsche, furthermore, but this time a white one.

It must belong to
her
, Suzy realized, breathless with jealousy. God, how perfect must they be together. They had mix-and-match cars. This one even had personalized plates—and what the letters stood for, heaven only knew.

BEAUTIFUL BODY?

BUXOM BABE?

BOSS-EYED AND BRAINLESS?

Ha! Some hope.

Without stopping to consider whether this was wise, Suzy parked around the corner and crept back up the road. By keeping close to the high stone wall, she remained in the shadows. Reaching Leo's drive, she knew from experience there was no way of creeping up it without making scrunching noises on the gravel. Instead, first silently sliding her feet out of her shoes, she felt her way blindly across the landscaped flower beds.

What she could be stepping on in the pitch-blackness didn't bear thinking about, so Suzy determinedly didn't think about it. Under cover of the shrubs and bushes she crouched, crawled, and tiptoed her way around the side of the house until she reached the sanctuary of the back garden.

The temperature had plummeted as darkness had fallen. The grass, crisp with frost, was icy against the soles of her stockinged feet. But although her teeth were chattering like castanets Suzy barely noticed the cold. All her attention was currently fixed on the drawing room French windows, uncurtained and ablaze with light.

Beyond them, she could see a long, white trench coat flung casually over one arm of Leo's black velvet sofa. And, next to it, an expensive-looking baguette-style handbag, also in white.

Presumably to match the Porsche.

Then, Suzy covered her mouth to stop a wail of anguish bursting out. A girl with long black hair had wandered into view. Long
gleaming
black hair, perfect skin, bright red lipstick, and the body of a model, encased in a gray trouser suit.

She was so beautiful Suzy could hardly bear to look at her.

The trouble was, she couldn't bring herself to look away.

“Aaargh!” shrieked Suzy as someone leaped out of the shadows behind her, thumped the air from her lungs, and sent her flying.

“WOOF WOOF WOOF,” Baxter barked joyously, launching himself like a heat-seeking missile at her now supine body. “WOOF WOOF!”

Oh, help…

“Shhh, no. Don't bark.
Shhh
,” Suzy whispered frantically, attempting to cover his big, whiskery, slobbery mouth with both hands.

“WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF.”

“Yes, I know it's me. Hello, sweetheart. But I do need you to be quiet, so shush,
please
, because I really don't want Leo to know I'm here.”

“Bit late for that,” Leo drawled, from less than ten feet away.

Suzy, still flat on her back, groaned and closed her eyes and considered feigning death.

“Baxter was scrabbling at the front door,” Leo explained, “so I let him out.” He gazed down at her, mystified. “Suzy, what are you doing here?”

Suzy shook her head. It was no good, she couldn't think of a single reasonable explanation. Typical. After years of improvising dramatically and almost always successfully, her brain had picked this very moment to give up the ghost.

She shrugged, the frosty grass tickling her neck. “Why am I here? I haven't the foggiest idea.”

“Come on, sit up.” Reaching down and pushing Baxter out of the way, Leo clasped her hand and pulled Suzy to her feet.

Glancing down at them, his tone conversational, he said, “Aren't they cold?”

Suzy shrugged again. She could no longer tell. They were numb, like her brain.

“Never mind. Let's go.” As he spoke, Leo put his arm around her shoulder, which was absolute heaven but at the same time deeply humiliating. He was treating her, Suzy realized, like some loopy maiden aunt found wandering in her nightie along the fast lane of the M4.

On the front doorstep she discovered her shoes, waiting for her.

“I thought they were yours, but I couldn't be absolutely sure,” said Leo.

“I didn't leave them there.”

“WOOF.” Baxter, who had retrieved them from the depths of the bushes over by the front gate, wagged his tail with pride.

“I'm not coming into your house.” Suzy let out a squeak of alarm as Leo pushed open the door. Until that moment she'd simply assumed he was doing his sympathetic bouncer bit, escorting her off the premises.

“Oh, yes you are. That's why you came here, isn't it? To see me?”

“Oh God, I suppose so, in theory.” Suzy tried digging her heels in, without success. “But not while
she's
here.”

Ignoring this feeble protest, Leo propelled her briskly across the hall and into the drawing room. The black-haired vision of loveliness was simultaneously putting on her coat, shoveling papers into a leather briefcase, and laughing as she spoke to someone on her cell phone.

“OK, you can stop nagging now. I'm on my way.” Hanging up, she snapped shut her briefcase, then—in quick succession—gave Leo a kiss on the cheek, Baxter a pat on the head, and Suzy a dazzling smile.

“Beth, thanks for sorting that out. And give my love to Ellie.”

“I will. And don't worry,” Beth told Leo cheerfully, “I'll see myself out.”

“Sit,” Leo told Baxter when Beth had gone.

Baxter gave him a reproachful look and flopped down in front of the fire.

“Who was she?” said Suzy.

“Beth? My accountant.”

Still not convinced, Suzy said truculently, “And Ellie?”

“Ellie's her partner. Not business partner. The other kind.”

Oh.

The room was blissfully warm, but Suzy was still shivering. Leo had caught her skulking in the bushes just as, months earlier, she had caught Lucille skulking in the bushes.

The difference being, of course, that Lucille had had a jolly good reason for being there.

“So,” Leo said finally. “Does this mean you've heard about the wedding being off?”

“I saw Gabriella. She told me everything, about this woman you're seeing. Is she pregnant, by the way? Because Gabriella thinks she is.” The words escaped before Suzy could stop them, like lemmings hurling themselves manically over a cliff.

“The other woman?” For a brief moment Leo looked startled, then the corners of his mouth began to twitch. “Well, I certainly hope not.”

Suzy, her tone accusing, said, “I thought you wanted children.”

“I do.”

“So how can you say—”

“Because I haven't slept with her yet.”

“Hah!” It came out as a not-very-elegant snort of derision. “And if you'll believe that, you'll believe anything.”

“I can assure you,” said Leo, moving toward her, “that if I'd slept with you, you would have noticed.”

Suzy stopped snorting. She stopped breathing, as the significance of the last few words sank in.

“Gosh,” Leo remarked mildly. “Mouth open, but no sound coming out. I do believe she's lost for words. Excellent.”

He kissed her, and Suzy's whole world exploded around her. Fireworks were going off in all directions. It was a wonder Baxter wasn't cowering under the sofa with his paws over his ears.

“I'm still confused,” she managed to mumble finally, when they both paused for breath. “Gabriella said you were seeing someone else.”

“Wrong. I told her I was in love with someone else,” Leo corrected.

Suzy heaved a sigh of relief. “And this isn't a joke? It's really me? You're sure about this?”

“I've been sure since the first moment I set eyes on you.” He brushed her mouth with his, setting off another carnival of fireworks.

“It's just that I'm not as brainy as Gabriella. I don't actually have all that many exams.”

“I think I can cope with that.” Smiling, Leo said, “I've heard you're great at Boggle.”

“Oh, I am, I am. Definitely great at Boggle.” Suzy breathed again. There, she did have some good points.

“And you're terrific with spiders, mustn't forget that.”

Happily, Suzy nodded. “Of course. Brilliant with spiders.”

“You're the one,” Leo said simply. “When you know, you know. Although”—he paused for a moment—“I did hear one rather worrying thing.”

“Worrying?” Suzy stepped back in alarm. “What is it? Did Harry say something awful about me?”

“Not Harry. Lucille happened to mention it once. Apparently, you have this strange…quirk.” Leo shook his head, at an apparent loss. “According to Lucille…she said something about…”

“Yes? Yes? About what?”

“Well…a six-week rule?”

“Oh.” Suzy gulped, hoping he wasn't going to hold her to it. “That.”

“Is it true?”

“No, no… Well, you know, it's pretty negotiable.”

“I'm a great negotiator,” said Leo.

Good.
“Me too.”

“I love you.”

Shuddering with joy, Suzy reached up and brushed her fingers against his lips. “Me too.”

“And actually,” said Leo, “it's handy you're here. There's something I really need you to help me with.”

“Really?”

“Upstairs.”

Still minus her shoes, Suzy allowed him to take her hand and lead her to the staircase. As they reached the landing, Leo steered her in the direction of the master bedroom.

“What kind of help, exactly?”

“Spider,” said Leo.

“Oh dear. Big?”

“Very big. And very menacing. It scared me witless.”

He pushed open the bedroom door.

“Where?” whispered Suzy.

“On the ceiling. Above the bed.”

“I can't see any spider.”

“Right over the bed.”

“Still can't see it.”

Suzy was by this time lying on the king-size bed, her head cushioned by pillows. As she continued to peer up at the ceiling, she felt Leo begin to unfasten the buttons of her pomegranate-pink shirt.

Henceforth to be referred to as her very,
very
lucky pomegranate-pink shirt.

“Leo, I hate to tell you this,” Suzy whispered, “but there's no spider on this ceiling.”

“No?” Leo shook his dark head in amazement, then slowly smiled, kissing each corner of Suzy's mouth in turn. “We must have frightened him off. What a shame. Oh well, never mind. Now you're here…”