Perfect Blend: A Novel (29 page)

“What are you saying? Of course it does. You and Brian are like Bacall and Bogie, Ben and Jerry. You’re made for each other.”

“No. The way I see it, I was upset and vulnerable. There were masses of sexual tension in the air because neither of us is getting laid—Okay, I’m getting laid, but not satisfactorily. I think that in a sense we just used each other.”

“‘Used each other’? I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

“Amy, I’ve told you before, I can’t be in a relationship with somebody who presses my buttons all the time. Can you imagine how wearing that would be? The constant sniping and fighting would get us both down.”

“So what are you going to do about Ulf?”

“I really don’t want to hurt him, but I guess I’ll have to end it. Sleeping with Brian made me realize that I can’t be in a relationship where the sex is lousy.”

“So apart from the sex, you’ve got no feelings at all for Brian?”

“Even if I did, they’re irrelevant. He’s crazy about Rebecca.”

“Oh, yeah—so crazy that he slept with you.”

“Amy, I’m telling you, this was a one-off. It was a stupid mistake, and it won’t happen again. Now let it go.”

FIVE MINUTES
later Brian was on the phone to say he had slept with Bel.

“It was truly amazing, but the thing is, I can’t work out if I did it because I have feelings for Bel or because I’m so sexually frustrated. To be honest, if I’d been at Miss Piggy’s house last night, I would have come on to her.”

“God, you two are impossible. Bel said almost the same.”

“What, that she would have slept with Miss Piggy?”

“No. She said you used each other.”

“She’s right.”

“I don’t get it … How can two people be so blind? Brian, listen to me. Of course you have feelings for Bel, the same way that she does for you. If the pair of you weren’t so insecure and would just stop competing for five minutes, you’d be able to see it.”

“But all we ever do is compete with each other. Isn’t that the point?”

“All I know is that I saw how jealous you were when Bel started going out with Ulf. You’re mad about her.”

“No, I got over that. It’s Rebecca I’m mad about now.”

“But the woman refuses to sleep with you!”

“Okay, I don’t deny that the point may come when we split up over that, but it doesn’t alter the fact that what Bel and I did was a huge mistake. We both know that. I think the best thing is for me to call her and suggest we just put it behind us and move on.”

“Perfect,” Amy said. “Just perfect.”

THAT AFTERNOON
Sam came over. Amy found an old car rug, which they took into the garden and spread out over the balding lawn. They sat in the sun drinking tea while Charlie played in the tent he had made by covering his climbing frame with old sheets.

“I just can’t believe how complicated some people’s lives get,” Amy said, plucking at some grass. “My dad’s trying to rescue poor Joyce. My mum’s seeing a man who is sweet and kind but can’t see beyond his own narrow world. Bel loves Brian and Brian loves Bel, but for some reason they’re both too scared to admit it. Oh, and then there’s Victoria and Simon, but at least they’re trying to sort themselves out. It’s exhausting just thinking about it all.”

“We don’t realize how lucky we are,” Sam said.

“I know. Our relationship may have gotten off to a rocky start, but now it feels so easy and straightforward.”

He nodded and smiled, but at the same time she got the sense that something was bothering him. She was about to remark on it, but he got in first.

“You know, Amy, I’m really falling for you in a big way.”

“Ditto,” she said.

He stroked the end of her nose with a buttercup. Then he kissed her.

Chapter 13

“HEY, AMES,” BRIAN
said as she walked into the café on Monday morning. “You still on the lookout for possible newspaper stories?”

“You bet.”

“Well, I may have a something. It’s nothing huge, but I thought it might make a piece for one of the newspaper food and drink pages. CremCo, the company that produces Crema Crema Crema, has developed this fancy new espresso machine. I don’t know much about it, but it’s meant to be pretty revolutionary. The launch party is on Wednesday night, and I’ve been invited. Apparently I am one of their ‘valued customers.’ The ticket admits two, so I thought you might fancy coming along. Only problem is, it’s in bloody Luton. They have their roasting plant there and want to show it off.”

Amy wrinkled her nose. “I dunno. All the newspaper and magazine food journalists will have been invited. I’m not sure there’ll be anything in it for me.”

“When I phoned to RSVP, they did mention there would be some pretty fancy freebies. Free bags of Crema Crema Crema, plus a fifteen percent discount on new orders, which is why I’m going.”

“Bearing in mind I don’t like coffee, you’re not selling it to me so far.”

“Oh, and the name Prada did come up. They’ve something to do with the design of the coffee machine. We
could
be talking handbags, especially when they’ve dragged the media thirty miles out of London.”

“Seriously? Wow. I have to say I’m tempted, but I’m not sure I can justify it. I’ve been leaving Charlie quite a lot lately. It’s not fair to abandon him again just so’s I can pick up a Prada bag. Why don’t you bring it back for me?”

“Amy, you’re not abandoning Charlie. You’d be leaving him with a baby-sitter. You’re always saying how much he loves Lilly. Please come. It’s a schlep up there. The do is bound to be deadly dull. I’d really appreciate the company.”

“Why don’t you ask Rebecca? Or Bel?”

“Rebecca’s working, and I can’t ask Bel.”

“Why?”

“It’ll look like I’m asking her on a date.”

“What’s wrong with that? You just slept with her.”

“Yes, but we’ve agreed that was a huge mistake and that the best thing is to pretend it never happened. If I start asking her out, it’ll look like I’ve got a thing for her.”

“Which you have.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Have.”

“Amy, can we please get back to Wednesday? You’re right, the food journalists will all be there to cover the espresso machine story, but you never know, you might get chatting to somebody and stumble across something else.”

“It’s not very likely, but I suppose I shouldn’t be turning down opportunities.”

“So you’ll come?”

“Okay, so long as I can get a baby-sitter.”

“Great.” He paused. “By the way, what happened between me and Bel can never get back to Rebecca, right?”

“Oh, come on. What do you take me for?”

“If she finds out, she’ll never forgive me. She’s already furious with me for telling everybody about her reclaiming her virginity.”

Amy said she wasn’t surprised.

“I’m going to have to make it up to her in some way. God knows how.”

“I guess you could always take her out to dinner. Oh, no, I forgot, she doesn’t eat anything.” Amy immediately regretted the comment, but she felt frustrated that Brian had let Bel go.

“You don’t like Rebecca, do you?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be bitchy. I’m sure when I get to know her …”

“Well, just for the record, I really like Sam.”

“Yeah, the two of you seemed to be getting along really well. I’m glad. I would have hated for there to be any ill feeling between you.”

“There’s none. Believe me.”

They were interrupted by Zelma bustling in, humming “I Feel Pretty.”

“You’ve got a spring in your step,” Amy said.

She winked. “I got some action yesterday.”

“No kidding? Good for you, Zelma.”

“Yes, all that dreadful bloating has gone, and I didn’t need to take any fiber today.”

AMY WAS
in the middle of eating lunch—a slice of tarte provençale—when Bel rang, full of excitement.

“You’ll never guess what.”

“What?”

“No, you have to guess.”

“But you just said I’d never guess.”

“Okay, get this: They’re making a new Bond film … and I am up for a part.”

“Bel, you are kidding! That is amazing. So what’s the part?”

“The voice of the Aston Martin’s satnav.”

“Wow … that’s amazing,” Amy said, trying not to sound too underwhelmed.

“No, you don’t get it. If I was to get the part, my voice would become really famous and the likelihood is that one of the satnav companies would use me. And other big stuff would be bound to follow. I could be the voice of TomTom. Kerching!”

“Okay, now I’m with you. That really is fantastic news.”

“I know. I’m so excited. The audition is in a few days. I’m going for purring, sexy dominatrix. What do you think?”

“Purrfect!”

Amy asked her if the police had been back in touch re the burglary.

“Some hopes. Once they know all the stuff’s insured, they’re not bothered. Hey, I’m really sorry I broke up the party on Friday, particularly after all that effort you went to. And I meant to say how fabulous Sam is. He’s great-looking, intelligent, funny. Do you think he could be, you know … a contender?”

Amy laughed. “It’s early days yet, but just between you and me, I think he could. And it really helps that he and Charlie like each other.”

“You know, he really looks like Charlie.”

“It’s funny, Victoria said that. I guess they do both have the same coloring.”

“No, it’s more than that. They have the same eyes.”

“She said that, too.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t noticed. Take a look the next time they’re together.”

Amy said she would. “So, are you okay with the whole Brian thing?”

“Fine. The other night was just something that happened. It’s all forgotten.”

Amy let out a sigh of frustration.

“Sweetie, I don’t know how to put this,” Bel said, “but has it occurred to you that maybe it’s you who has the problem with this?”

THAT EVENING
she had only just gotten Charlie to bed when Sam turned up unannounced. “I thought I’d surprise you,” he said, kissing her.

“I’m glad you did. Come into the kitchen. I’ll make tea.”

“I’d rather go into the living room and make out.”

“No way.” She giggled. “Charlie’s barely asleep. I’ve got cake, though.”

“Ah, even better.”

Sam sat at the kitchen table, and she filled the kettle. “You know, it’s the weirdest thing: People keep telling me that you and Charlie look alike. I was looking at him tonight as I put him to bed, and I think they’re right.”

Sam shrugged. “Really? Not sure I’ve noticed, but I’m not very good at seeing resemblances. Maybe it’s a bloke thing.”

“Well, Bel and Victoria can see it. Don’t you think it’s odd?” she persisted. “I mean, you look alike, you’re both talented artists.”

He was laughing. “Amy, you are joking, right? I’m sterile, and even if I weren’t, I donated sperm fifteen years ago.”

“I know that. I just think it’s a strange coincidence, that’s all.”

WEDNESDAY NIGHT’S
Crema Crema Crema launch was due to start at seven. Brian said that since they would be driving in the rush hour, they should allow extra time. They got changed at the café and set off exactly at half past five. They were walking to Brian’s car when his cell started ringing. “Yes … okay … I see … I’ll phone and make another appointment. Thank you for letting me know.”

He turned to Amy. “The clinic just got the results of my blood test. Turns out my estrogen level is above normal. Shit. What do I do now?”

Amy took his arm. “Come on, take it easy,” she soothed. “The doctor already told you it could take years before the estrogen causes any real harm. I know it’s worrying, but there will be an answer to this thing. It’s just a matter of time.”

“I hope you’re right. Meanwhile, I’m going back to the doctor to talk about having some liposuction to reduce the size of my moobs.”

“Hey, maybe he’d give us a twofer and do my hips and thighs while he’s at it.”

As soon as they got in the car, Amy phoned Ruby to make sure Charlie was okay. She had arranged for her to give him supper. Afterward, Lilly would collect him, put him to bed, and wait for Amy to get home. Ruby said that everything was fine and that Lilly had phoned to say she was on her way. “Fab,” Amy said. “Give him a kiss from me and tell him I won’t be too late.”

The traffic was by no means light, but there were no actual holdups and they managed to keep moving.

At one point Bel phoned Brian to say she was filling out her insurance claim form and how much had he paid for his MacBook Pro, as she’d lost the receipt and she knew they’d both bought them around the same time.

“Look, I’m driving. I’m with Amy; we’re on our way to Luton to this CremCo gig I told you about. I’d have to check what I paid. Why don’t you take a look online … okay, sorry, yes, of course … you don’t have your laptop … What? No, Amy didn’t tell me you were auditioning for a part in the new Bond film. That’s amazing …” Then he said he had to hang up because there was a police car behind them and he didn’t want to get a fine for being on the phone.

Amy brought him up to speed re Bel’s latest audition and the moneymaking possibilities if she got the part. Brian said he often worried about Bel.

Amy asked him why.

“She’s had a rough time of it over the years, what with that scumbag father of hers. I really hope she makes it. I’d love nothing more than to see her do well.”

Oh, he so had feelings for Bel, but Amy wasn’t about to tackle Brian on the subject again. He’d made his position clear. Plus, they were just pulling into the CremCo car park.

AS THEY
got out of the car, they were greeted by the powerful aroma of roasted coffee. Brian inhaled deeply. “Wow, don’t you just love that smell?” Amy said what she always said about coffee aroma promising more than it delivered, and Brian called her a philistine. As they made their way over to the CremCo building, they continued to exchange good-humored insults.

A jolly, hair-flicking PR girl named Sophie welcomed them at the reception area. She referred to her guest list, crossed off their names, and directed them to a large conference room on the ground floor. Inside, waiters were hovering with trays of champagne and canapés.

Amy and Brian helped themselves to champagne and miniature portions of piping hot fish and chips.

About forty people had shown up. Judging by the snippets of conversation Amy was picking up, most of them were food writers. Others ran Internet businesses or shops selling upmarket tea and coffee. A few, like Brian, owned cafés and restaurants. As they waited for a few latecomers, Brian spotted a face he recognized. He nudged Amy. “See that bloke over there, working the room? That’s Hugh Cavendish. He’s the head of CremCo UK.”

An excessively tall, forty-something chap with slicked-back hair that was a particularly unnatural shade of chestnut was chatting earnestly to a group of journalists. Amy took in the chalk-stripe suit, the pink shirt and white collar, the gold signet ring on his little finger. Had she been asked what the CEO of CremCo might look like, she would probably have said übertrendy, thirty to forty-something, with an edgy haircut and slightly weird German specs.

“He looks like one of those upper-class types you read about in the papers,” Amy whispered to Brian. “You know, the ones that claim to be a lord and then con unsuspecting women out of their life savings.”

Brian laughed. “It’s the hair. My gran always used to say you could never trust a man with dyed hair.” He broke off. Hugh Cavendish was coming their way.

“Good evening to you,” he brayed like an off-duty master of the hunt. “I am Hugh Cavendish from CremCo. Welcome to our little soiree.”

“Thank you for inviting us,” Brian said. He went on to introduce himself and Amy.

“And I’m assuming that you and the delightful Ms. Walker are members of the press.”

“I’m a freelance,” Amy said. “Brian owns a coffee shop called Café Mozart. It’s on Richmansworth Common.”

“Fascinating,” he said. Cavendish, who couldn’t have looked less fascinated if he’d tried, took Amy’s hand in his and didn’t so much kiss it as slobber over it. Amy shot a look at Brian to let him know that she thought the man was a complete sleazeball.

“We’re all looking forward to seeing the new espresso machine,” Brian ventured.

“Ah, yes. It’s been several years in development, and I have to say that all of us at CremCo are immensely excited. We’re confident it’s going to claim the majority of the market share over the next couple of years. And of course sales of Crema Crema Crema coffee are continuing to soar. We are struggling to keep up with demand.”

“I’m not surprised,” Brian said. “It is quite exceptional … that smoky top note with a hint of caramel. Then there’s that citrusy insouciance and a really complex finish that is quite—”

“Yes … well, if you’ll excuse me.” With that Hugh Cavendish took his leave, but not before he had patted Amy’s rear.