Paradise Fields (10 page)

‘Just as long as you think I need to know the same as what I think I need to know.'

‘Mum, you're talking rubbish.'

‘Oh, OK. I'll try not to worry too much.'

Nel didn't know if the amount she was worrying was too much, or the right amount, but she did quite a lot of it as she pottered round the kitchen. Although she really enjoyed the company of her children as young adults, she did slightly yearn for the days when she knew where they were at all times. Fleur was in London with Jamie; she wouldn't see her until Sunday night, which would not be a good time to ask her if she was taking drugs. Monday morning would be no better, in fact far worse. Vivian would speak to Fleur if asked, but Fleur would be furious. However much she loved Vivian, she wouldn't take it kindly if Viv came round
to supper and then told Fleur her mother was worried about her – a special form of trust would be broken. Nor could she involve Jamie's mother. Fleur would never forgive her if she rang Jamie's parents and demanded to know if their son was leading her daughter astray. No, she'd have to sort it out by herself.

She had just switched on the dishwasher when the phone rang again.

‘Sorry to ring again so soon, Mum,' said Sam. ‘Are you in bed?'

‘Just going. What's up?'

‘I've just heard some goss about Chill. I think there might be a bit more going on down there than at most clubs.'

Although sweat had formed at Nel's hairline, she tried to sound calm. ‘But that doesn't mean Fleur and Jamie are doing it too.'

‘No, it doesn't. But if you want me to come with you to check it out, I will. Anytime except next weekend. Angela's invited me to stay with her parents.'

‘Who's Angela?'

‘New girlfriend. The weekend after would be fine, though.'

There was no way Nel could wait a whole fortnight before finding out if Fleur was ingesting dangerous substances. ‘No, it's OK. I'll deal with it.'

‘You sure, Mum?'

‘Course. She's my daughter, after all. There's a farmers' market I want to see in London, and it's on this week. I'll go and visit that, and then stay on.'

‘If you're positive that'll be OK . . .'

‘Honestly!'

All week, in between handing out application forms for the official farmers' market, asking every shop and office in town, not to mention every primary school, nursery and playgroup, if they would have a petition form to protest against the building plans, Nel interrogated Fleur. It had to be very subtle interrogating, and Nel felt it was. Fleur thought otherwise.

‘Mum, if you want to know if I'm doing drugs, why don't you just ask me?'

‘Well?'

‘It's none of your business. I'm nearly eighteen!'

‘And you're definitely going to see Jamie this weekend?'

‘Yes! And I'm going to stay with Hannah the weekend after, remember. It's her eighteenth.'

At least that would be one Saturday night Nel needn't worry about her. Hannah's mother was notoriously strict and had always made Nel feel like a bad parent. But if Hannah's mother could get away with demanding her children were home by eleven on a Saturday night, Nel could only be grateful.

‘So,' said Fleur, ‘if you've finished with the third degree, I'll go to bed! I've got to go to school in the morning!'

All this pouting and flouncing was so uncharacteristic that Nel knew what she'd be doing the following Saturday night; she'd be going clubbing.

On Thursday night she phoned Simon to ask him to go with her. She'd tried to avoid it, but all her other potential fellow victims had genuine reasons for not going.

Vivian had been willing but had to get up early on Sunday morning, so Nel told her not to come. ‘Besides,
who's going to look after my animals if we're both away?' she added.

Nel and Vivian had a reciprocal arrangement with regard to this. ‘I'd
love
to go another time, though; we could get Simon to dog-sit. In fact, are you sure you couldn't go on Saturday week instead? We could stay with my friend from college. We'd have a ball!'

‘Sounds lovely, but Fleur's staying with Hannah that weekend. It's her eighteenth.'

‘Hannah with the scary mother? Oh, shame.'

‘Besides, I'm not sure how much fun I'd be, spying on Fleur, while you two go on the pull.'

‘True. What about Sam, or would he be too embarrassed?'

‘Nothing embarrasses Sam, but he's been invited to his girlfriend's parents for the weekend.'

‘I didn't know he had a girlfriend.'

‘Nor did I,' Nel said with feeling.

‘So will you ask Simon to go with you?'

‘Yes.'

Vivian left a tactful pause before saying, ‘Are you sure Simon's into clubbing?'

‘It doesn't matter! I'm worried about Fleur, not looking for a good time.'

‘Then Simon's the perfect companion. Where are you going to stay?' Vivian glided over this little dig.

‘Simon's got friends in London who I'm sure will put us up. They did when he took me on that theatre break.'

‘Oh yes, when I thought he should take you to a fabulous hotel.'

‘It's not like that between us! Anyway, I must go. I haven't actually asked Simon yet.'

‘Try not to worry about Fleur – she's a sensible girl.'

‘I know that really, but I can't stop fretting. Still, it's not all bad! I forgot to tell you I lost two pounds the last time I went to Weight Watchers!'

‘Two pounds! That's nothing! There's no point in you starving yourself to lose two pounds.'

‘It's a bag of sugar, which is not nothing, and now I
have
to ask Simon. I know he's not ideal but he's all I've got.'

But a few moments later, Nel realised that in fact she had not got Simon. He refused to go.

‘I think it's ridiculous, you chasing up to London to see if Fleur is taking drugs. You should just stop her going to London if you're worried.'

‘I'm going to visit a farmers' market!'

‘Honestly, how do they have farmers' markets in London? They don't have farms!'

‘The products have to come from within a hundred miles of the M25. They're extremely popular. People like buying direct from the producer.'

‘You don't have to go to London to research all that, but I don't blame you for being worried about Fleur. There was another case in the paper the other day, some foolish girl taking an E on her birthday and dying.'

Nel hissed. She didn't read papers except for the lifestyle bits and the crossword, and she'd managed to filter out too many details about the girl in question from what news she heard on the radio. She did not need Simon to remind her of it.

‘Please, Simon. I'm asking you, as a favour, to come with me.'

‘And I'm saying no as a favour. I don't think you should go. You spend far too much of your time running
round after your children when they're not even children any more.'

‘So, even though I'm asking you,
begging
you, even, you won't come with me?'

‘No.'

‘Fine.'

‘Nel, don't take this personally—'

As there wasn't another way to take it, Nel put the phone down.

Nel didn't like leaving the dogs alone in the house at night, but Vivian had said she'd come over and tuck them up, so Nel felt they would be all right. On Saturday morning she fed them, walked them and gave them pigs' ears to chew, then caught the early train to London. The farmers' market would be over by the time she got there if she waited until a more reasonable time.

It was always tricky, getting dressed in the country for two very different appointments in town, Nel decided. She wished Vivian had been going with her. It might even have been fun. As it was she finally decided on black trousers, little black top, V-necked jumper, also black, and a sort of informal jacket which was long enough to cover her bottom. Over this she put a winter coat which had been Mark's. It was extremely heavy but extremely warm. She wore it partly in case she missed the last train home and needed to sleep on a bench: it would act as a sort of tent; and partly because she liked to wear something of Mark's – socks, a jumper, a T-shirt – if she was doing something frightening that involved the children. It allowed her to imagine she wasn't a completely single parent. A fuchsia-coloured pashmina over the top made the
outfit slightly more suitable for daytime wear than unremitting black.

Twelve hours later, it was an anticlimax to have got herself from Notting Hill Gate on the tube to Oxford Circus and followed Sam's directions to the club to find it closed. Her feet were killing her; she had been on them all day, and while visiting the market had been fascinating and extremely useful, it had been exhausting.

She had spent most of the afternoon, after the market was over, going round the art galleries. She'd then taken herself to a small arthouse cinema and slept through something very highbrow in black and white. Still, she'd been more in need of a nap than she had been of an improving retrospective view of the Spanish Civil War, seen through the eyes of a blind child and his grandmother.

Now, after a cup of strong coffee, she had got herself to the right place, and it was all locked up. A notice on the door said it didn't open until ten o'clock! She knew things started much later in London, but ten o'clock! No wonder Fleur was always so tired.

The thought that Fleur might see her lurking outside sent Nel walking down the side street she was in, looking for shop windows. There were none. There was nothing she could possibly be doing except waiting for the club to open, but there was no queue forming, and she assumed there wouldn't be for a while.

She set off for Oxford Street; at least there were shops there. She'd gone off down yet another side street, which at least had some lovely shoes on display, when a taxi pulled up behind her. One glance told her it was full of
men, and she looked hastily back at something in pink with a strange-shaped heel. One of the men got out and said her name.

It was Jake. ‘Nel? What are you doing here?'

Nel gulped with shock and confusion. What was he doing here, appearing out of the blue again? It was weirder than the film. Not knowing what else to do, she shrugged. If she'd been on more familiar territory she'd have made some sharp riposte. ‘Just hanging around.'

‘Why?'

‘Nothing to do with you. Get back in your taxi, your friends are waiting.' She didn't want him feeling sorry for her.

‘Not till I've found out why you're hanging round Oxford Street at this time of night.'

‘I'm waiting for the clubs to open.' She smiled. In spite of her anxiety, it still sounded funny to her.

‘Why?'

‘So I can go clubbing, of course.'

Jake frowned, and looked back at the waiting taxi. ‘Look, we can't talk here. Come with me.'

‘No! Don't be silly! You're with your friends, and why should I come with you?'

‘Because I can't leave you here on the street.'

‘Yes, you can. I'm a free woman, over twenty-one. What can happen to me?'

‘I wouldn't put anything past you. Move over, lads, we've got an extra passenger.'

‘But—'

‘Don't make me drag you into the taxi with me. I don't usually have to work that hard, and my reputation would never recover.'

Nel hesitated.

‘Please?'

Then Nel laughed – fatal if you're trying to resist doing something you quite want to do, like get into a taxi with a familiar, if not friendly face, rather than hang about on a London street planning a one-woman drugs bust. ‘Oh, all right, then.'

One of Jake's companions moved to share the flip-up seat, making almost enough room for Nel and her coat on the bench seat. There were already four men in the cab before Jake followed her. It was a squash.

‘We'll take you with us to the restaurant,' said Jake. ‘Then we'll go clubbing. Everybody, this is Nel Innes. She's going clubbing and it's too early, so she's going to have dinner with us. OK?'

‘Jake, I can't butt in like this!'

‘Yes, you can,' said one of the other men, who, now Nel looked at them, all seemed terribly young. ‘We don't often get to see Jake's totty.'

Nel giggled nervously. ‘I'm not Jake's totty! I'm just someone he knows from the country.'

‘Let me make some introductions,' Jake said.

Nel immediately realised that as they all had the same haircuts and very similar clothes she had no chance of remembering their names until she got to know them a bit.

‘This is a sort of works do,' Jake explained. ‘We don't usually have them on a Saturday night, but no one here has got a girlfriend at the moment, so we agreed on tonight. We have a meal first, and then we go on somewhere.'

‘So you can go on the pull?' asked Nel, seriously.

The young man opposite her nodded. ‘That's right.'

‘Well, I won't get in your way. I've got stuff of my own I need to do.'

‘Here's Luigi's,' said someone as the cab drew up. ‘The firm's paying for the cab, right?'

THE MEN WITH
Jake were extremely nice to Nel, she thought.

‘Let me take your coat,' said one. ‘God! It weighs a ton!'

‘It was my husband's, and it was his father's, so it's ancient. But very warm.'

‘I should think so,' said Jake briskly as he went and hung it up for her.

The group was obviously well known at the restaurant. ‘
Ciao, ragazzi
!' said the head waiter. ‘Oh, you have a lady with you. How nice!'

Nel tried to match her smile to the mood of those around her. ‘Hello.'

‘She's with Jake, Luigi,' said one of the men, who, Nel had to keep reminding herself, could not be thought of as boys.