Made in Heaven (37 page)

‘So we might as well forget about it? Are you saying that?'

‘No, not at all,' said Emily. ‘But we can't do anything now.'

‘I know. I know. You're right. And there'll probably be a completely innocent explanation. Let's go to bed.'

‘I'm off,' said Emily. ‘Night, Zannah.'

Zannah stared after her sister, who, it seemed to her, was escaping with unseemly haste from a conversation she found uncomfortable. And I'm being a control freak as usual. What if Ma is having an affair? Is it anyone's business but Ma and Pa's? Yes, it is, she told herself. It'll affect us all. Not just me and Em but Isis …

She stood up and turned out the light. Then she went upstairs to her bedroom and sat on the bed. Emily must be right. It was completely unlikely and all the evidence … Well, what evidence was there? A half-smile intercepted. But that look in his eyes … what about that? A raising of an eyebrow. An extra squeeze by her mother of Graham Ashton's hand. Oh,
and the way she had left the engagement party. They had to remember that as well, but they'd never met at that time so it couldn't count. So it was nothing, really. They hardly knew one another, so it was impossible. They'd met once, so briefly that the meeting couldn't be called a proper meeting at all. The whole thing was one great big zero. She undressed, washed, got into bed and stared at the ceiling. Then something she'd forgotten floated into her mind. Zannah sat up in bed, feeling faintly nauseous. She pulled back the covers, got out of bed and walked along the corridor to Emily's room.

There was a line of light showing under the door. Zannah knocked and opened it at almost the same time. ‘You're not asleep, are you?'

‘No, but …'

‘I know, I know, it's late and we've got to get up for work, but I have to tell you this.' As she spoke, Zannah flung back the bedclothes near Emily's feet and settled herself at the bottom of the bed, facing her sister across an expanse of duvet. ‘We used to do this all the time, remember? When we were kids. I'm sorry, Em, but I've got to ask you what you think.'

Emily leaned back against her piled-up pillows. ‘This is about Ma again, right? Her so-called affair with Graham Ashton.'

‘Yes … But the thing is, when Adrian and I were staying at the Ashtons', I went into Graham's study and
The Shipwreck Café
was lying on the desk. I actually saw him stroking it.'

‘So?' Emily sounded bored. ‘It's on sale, isn't it? And Graham writes poetry. You told me that. Or Ma did.'

‘The book on its own isn't the point. Don't you see? It's the combination of all sorts of things.' Zannah ticked them off on her fingers. ‘The love of poetry, the kind of poems they are. Have you forgotten, well, how sexy they are? Plus there's the fact that he had Ma's
book on his desk, and this is the clincher. Where was Ma while Pa was in Egypt?'

‘Doing a poetry course at Fairford Hall.'

‘Exactly!' Zannah sounded triumphant. ‘That was where they met. Properly, I mean. I've worked it out. It's logical, isn't it? He likes writing poetry, she's teaching a course, she's going to be related to him … What could be nicer than booking a place on her course? Opportunity, motive, method … everything.'

‘It's not a murder, Zannah. You sound like a detective.'

‘Tomorrow, I'm going to find out. I'm going to phone Fairford and ask.'

They'll never tell you who was on the course.'

‘I'll pretend to be Maureen … make it something financial. Don't worry … I'm good at stuff like that. I bet it was there that they got closer to one another. You know what Ma's told us. They're a hotbed of lust, those courses.'

‘You've not taken account of one thing, though.'

Zannah smiled. ‘Go on, then, clever-clogs. What's that?'

‘Ma. Her character. She wouldn't … well, you know. She wouldn't be unfaithful to Pa. It's just not like her. She hates rocking the boat. She's quiet. She's not … well, I don't know … but would you honestly say she was tempestuous? Passionate? Impulsive? In spite of the evidence of the poems, which can't be all that recent, so they sort of don't fit in to your solution, do they? The Fairford course was only a couple of weeks ago.'

Zannah buried her face in the duvet and thought that she would never have chosen such a pattern. Very minimalist: white, with small black gatherings of squares dotted here and there. She said, ‘Well, you're right in one way, of course. I wouldn't have said Ma was passionate, really, but then I read the poems and
they're quite different. I mean, what I get when I read them is someone not a bit like Ma.'

Emily frowned. ‘Well, yes, but if she wrote them before she met Graham Ashton, which she must have done, then they're just a kind of pretending, aren't they?'

‘I thought so, till tonight. Anyway, we've got to ask her. In confidence. D'you think she'd stay over with us on their way home? They're back on Thursday night and I know Pa has to be up north by Friday, but maybe Ma would stay and we could ask her …' Zannah's voice faded away.

‘I don't fancy that much, do you? I mean, what are we going to say?'

‘We'll just ask her straight out. Are you having an affair with Graham Ashton?'

‘Brilliant! What if she doesn't tell us?' Emily said. ‘She could take offence and storm out.'

‘Ma's not a stormer-out.'

‘You thought she was someone who'd never have an affair, too, and now you're changing your mind about that.'

Zannah said, ‘What happens if she denies it? Will we believe her?'

‘We have to, don't we? We can't start assuming she's a liar as well as an adulteress.'

‘Don't call her that … it's horrible.'

Emily leaned forward and took Zannah's hand. ‘It's not horrible, Zannah. People do it all the time. Lots of them. That doesn't make them bad people. Look at Cal, for instance.'

Tears came to Zannah's eyes. ‘It's because of Cal that I'm so … well, so upset about this. I felt … well, you know how I felt when all that happened. I can still make myself miserable if I think about it too much, even now.'

‘And you're worried that if Ma's having an affair, it'll hurt Pa?'

Zannah was silent for a long time. Of course it was mainly Pa she was concerned about, but she realized that her own security would be shaken if anything was wrong between her parents. She said, ‘I've never really thought about Ma and Pa's relationship. I suppose it would be Pa who'd be most affected if they split up but there's also us, and Isis and …'

‘God, Zannah, you're letting your imagination run away with you! We don't even know there's anything going on yet. And as for Ma and Pa's relationship, well, quite honestly, I never think about it. They're just there, in Altrincham, leading their life like they've always lived it. That's all.'

‘That's not all. Maybe they have … I mean, what d'you think their sex life is like, after all these years?'

‘No, Zannah, I'm absolutely
NOT
going there! Ugh! I've never wanted to picture such a thing and I refuse to start now. And as for Ma with Graham Ashton … that's just as bad. I'd rather not imagine Ma having sex at all. Nor Pa, either.'

Zannah nodded. She didn't relish the notion any more than Emily, but nevertheless, she couldn't help wondering. She said, ‘They're sort of settled in their relationship, aren't they? D'you reckon they ever row? I've never heard them. Pa goes off in a sulk if he's cross and then he calms down and sort of wanders in again expecting everything to be all right. And Ma well, she presses her lips together and gets on with it. Have you ever heard her shout?'

‘What's that got to do with anything?'

‘Maybe settled and calm is boring. Maybe Graham Ashton is a more … I don't know. A more lively person.'

‘A better lover than Pa, d'you mean?'

‘I never said that,' Zannah murmured, but Emily had set her mind on a path that it seemed to be following whether she wanted it to or not. She had a sudden
vision of her mother and Graham Ashton in the throes of passion … she closed her eyes against this image and tried hard to think about something else.

‘We're not going to get any further with this, Zan,' said Emily. ‘And my eyes are closing. You go on and do the detective work. Your whole theory falls down if Graham Ashton wasn't at Fairford Hall.'

‘Right,' said Zannah. ‘I'm going. Ta for listening.'

‘No problem. Night.'

‘Night.'

Zannah went back to bed and lay staring at the ceiling. She thought of her mother possibly having an affair and didn't know exactly what she felt. Was it a possibility? They'd find out soon enough, but she thought that if it
were
true, then the discovery would upset Em more than it would her. She'd be worried about Pa. Well, so would I, Zannah told herself, but not to the same extent. She'd often wondered in the last couple of years whether her mother was truly happy, and now she felt guilty for not having spoken properly to her for so long. These days, she reflected, I mainly talk to Em but it's been years and years since we did that: sat in the same bed discussing things. For a moment, she felt nostalgic for her childhood, when she and Em used to spend hours tucked up at either end of one of their beds. Would Isis ever have a sister to share that with? Zannah thought of Adrian and wished he was here with her. She wouldn't have dreamed of talking to him about her mother, and wondered why that was. Surely if she was going to share her life with him, she should be able to tell him everything. She was almost certain that she would have been able to confide in Cal about something like this, but in Adrian's case, not only was he close to his mother, he was not nearly as friendly with Ma as Cal had been. Zannah didn't feel she could take the risk of any of this speculation getting back to Maureen. Also, he wasn't too keen on his stepfather and she had
no wish to make things difficult between them. No, she was determined to keep her thoughts to herself, but how comforting it would be to have his body next to hers, his arms round her. At last, she drifted into sleep.

‘Dad!' said Isis, catching sight of Cal standing by the school gate. ‘Mum said you'd be here to collect me. Cool! Here's the key. She said to give it you. Can we go to the movies?'

‘Not on a school night, Icicle. I'm going to take you back to the flat for a bit and once Em's home from work, we'll all go for supper at Luigi's. That okay? Your mum's having dinner at Adrian's.'

‘I know.' Isis took her father's hand and they set off. She knew her dad wouldn't make her put her hood up even though it was cold and her breath was like smoke coming out of her mouth. Mum sometimes made her cover her head, but Dad never took any notice of the weather. She said, ‘They're going to discuss lists.'

‘What sort of lists?'

‘You know … lists in shops telling people what you want them to buy as a present.'

‘That's ridiculous. Why would anyone want to do that?'

‘So they can get nice things they like.'

‘Oh, right, so they don't trust their friends to know what they'd like?'

‘Don't be silly, Dad. It's supposed to help you get what you really want. Anyway, lists are boring. I went to try my dress on last week. Did Mum tell you? I thought it would be nearly ready but it wasn't. There was a sort of
white cotton dress I had to put on instead. Mum tried hers on as well. Miss Hayward says she makes a cotton one first and if that fits, she cuts out the silk one and sews it up. Miss Hayward's like a granny in a book. Her hair's white.'

At the flat, Cal opened the door. ‘Right, let's get the tea made then.'

Isis sighed. ‘Adrian doesn't know where anything is. Mum always has to tell him and then he says:
I don't do tea
.'

‘Yeah, well, he's not Superdad, is he? I'm good at things like tea.' He sounded cheerful and Isis wondered if he liked it when she told him about things Adrian couldn't do.

‘He's not nearly as nice as you, though,' she added, pleased that he was happy.

‘Very few people are,' said Cal, reaching up for the teapot and nearly dropping it. He was just pouring in the boiling water when Isis said, ‘I don't want tea, though. I'll have juice. It's in the fridge and I can get it myself.'

‘You should have said earlier, then I'd have used a teabag. Never mind, I'll drink two cups.'

‘Have you seen Mum's pictures for the florist?'

‘No, I haven't.'

‘They're in that book over there by the TV. She's done loads. She met her last week. Have a look … '

Isis ran to pick up the sketchbook which was still lying on the table where Zannah had left it the previous evening. She watched as Cal turned the pages. He wasn't saying anything. ‘Don't you like the pictures, Dad?'

‘No, they're wonderful … I just … I don't know. Where's she going to put all these flowers? Anyway, I thought the whole idea of hiring a florist was so that they could tell you what flowers to have. But your mum's done it the other way round and told them what
she wants … Oh, hi there, Em! You're back nice and early.'

Emily and Cal hugged one another. They always did that. Sometimes Isis thought Em liked Dad better than Mum did. Did Dad like Em better than he liked Mum? Isis didn't think so, but she couldn't ask anyone. Emily said, ‘Hello, Iceypop. We're off to a restaurant for our tea … how posh is that? Give us a kiss. I've had a hard day at work.'

Isis ran to kiss her aunt. ‘I'm showing Dad Mum's flower drawings.' Then, she turned her attention to Cal again and said, ‘I'm having a round bouquet. With pink and dark red roses. And leaves a bit darker than my dress. It'll be soooo fantastic.'