Slightly Foxed (5 page)

Read Slightly Foxed Online

Authors: Jane Lovering

BOOK: Slightly Foxed
9.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

ages. "Maybe later."

Later, and after many more glasses of wine, drunk to spite

the girls who'd obviously wanted rid of me, I forced entry into

my hallway. With the kind of thuggish enthusiasm typical to

those who've had a night out which has proved a little too

much for their systems to cope with, I collapsed through

doorways. I ended up facedown on my bed.

"That was fun," I said to the pillow. "Piers is nice to be

seen out with." A moment's contemplation later I mitigated

this with, "Bloody annoying person though. Buying all that

wine. Making me drink it. And his friends are so
rude
."

The pillow turned a cold, glittering eye on me. Grainger

was drawing my attention to the fact that he was currently

occupying this pillowcase and would I mind buggering off to

be maudlin elsewhere because he had some serious bits of

sleeping he wanted to catch up on.

[Back to Table of Contents]

39

Slightly Foxed

by Jane Lovering

Chapter Five

"You are looking very white still, Alys." Jacinta's voice

boomed around inside my head as I attempted to sort books

without bending down. "You must get in bed early tonight."

The shop bell jangled like tinfoil across my nerve endings and

she looked at me expectantly. "Is your turn."

"Oh, have pity on me, Jace, please." I groaned, resting my

forehead against the undisturbed coolness of the Jane Austen

section. "I couldn't sell anything if it was 'Buy a Book or Die'

day."

"Hmm." Jacinta, decidedly lacking in sympathy, muttered,

"It not pity you need, it man with big muscle."

Honestly. First all I needed was "new clothe", now it was

"man with big muscle". What was she going to prescribe

next? Liechtenstein?

My stomach gave a small lurch and I hastily started pulling

books from the shelf to distract myself. A rogue
Northanger

Abbey
needed a swift sort out before it tried to infiltrate Iain

Banks on the rack below.

"It is a man." Jacinta's voice from the other side of the

shelf made me jump, as did the sight of her face peering

through the recently made gap. She looked disturbingly like a

bird of prey when all her features were squeezed into the

book-sized space. "He wants you."

"Oh, if only." I sighed. "Why does he want me?"

"He is not saying. I say you are not feeling bright today

and that you have brought back your tea."

40

Slightly Foxed

by Jane Lovering

"More information, Jacinta, than I think
anyone
needs. So

he didn't say who he was, or anything useful like that?"

"No. He is very pretty, you go see."

"But I don't know any...oh. Hello, Piers." I tried to become

unaware of Jace's looming, pouting presence as I confronted

Piers in front of the till. The thumping in my temples had

worsened suddenly, but he looked perfectly cool. "Um. Do

you want to buy a book?"

By now Jace had walked completely around Piers, giving

him the benefit of her Alpine-level cleavage and, for such a

large woman, her absurdly pert bottom. Over his shoulder

she was making lip-smacking faces in my direction.

"No, I wanted—just making sure you were okay. You

seemed kinda tanked last night and we didn't get to talk a

whole lot on the way back. Worried that my friends might

have, ah, upset you."

Jacinta was now giving me thumbs-up signs with both

hands and winking like a pantomime dame behind Piers's

back. "Well, as you can see"—I waved my arms in what was

meant to be a look-how-fine-I-am gesture, but came across

as though I was struggling to keep my balance—"I'm

completely all right. Super, in fact."

"Yeah, okay. Sure. Just thought I'd, well, you know." Piers

turned and almost collided with Jacinta who managed to

wobble most of her assets in her attempt to get out of his

way. "See ya."

As soon as the door had shut behind him, Jacinta was in

front of me, grasping me by both shoulders and squeezing

until my clavicles squeaked. "Alys, you have a man! And such

41

Slightly Foxed

by Jane Lovering

a man. So—
lindo.
" She burst into a torrent of Spanish,

punctuated with occasional shakings of my limp form which

might, in my fragile state, have proved fatal if Simon hadn't

walked in at that moment.

"Now, now girls," he said evenly. "No need to fight."

"She has a man." Jacinta managed to make it sound

accusing and her eyebrows, usually neatly pencilled arches on

her brow line, became two brackets containing an outraged

frown. "She did not tell me of any man."

"It was Piers," I said wearily. "He's got some family crisis

and I offered to help, that's all. Nothing else."

"Piers? Alasdair's wife's boy?" Simon looked puzzled. "But

he's about twelve, isn't he?"

"Something like that." My head was banging now, my brain

felt like the last biscuit in the tin. "Look, sorry, Simon, but I

think I've got to go home. I feel absolutely rubbish at the

moment. Jace can cope, can't you?"

"If you say." Jacinta helped me find my jacket and held

open the shop door for me. "He is very big boy for twelve,"

she muttered in my ear as I left.

[Back to Table of Contents]

42

Slightly Foxed

by Jane Lovering

Chapter Six

I awoke some time later, in bed with a migranous

headache and Theo Wood looming pixelatedly in front of my

left eyeball.
Shit.
I'd meant to post him off to Isabelle Logan

last night. I hadn't accounted for getting rolling drunk and

forgetting. I'd already admitted his presence to Simon,

pretending that I'd taken him home by mistake, and had to

face Simon's upper-class tut at my carelessness. If things had

gone to plan, Theo would have plopped through Isabelle's

letterbox by now.

I unstuck Theo from my cheek and wiped as much drool

off his face as I could, before I groaned my way into a more

comfortable position. Why on earth had I drunk so much last

night? I turned onto my side and felt the bed dip as Grainger

landed alongside me. He walked the length of my body to

gurn
toothlessly into my face before settling himself against

my chest with a small purr of self-satisfaction and a smell like

old anchovies.

I closed my eyes and let myself drift off into a pleasing half

dream about Theo Wood in which he was reciting poetry to

me in a breathless, love-struck voice, but woke again with a

start of recognition at the sound of a key turning in the front

door. Theo's gentle exhalations of desire turned into

Grainger's fishy snores and the background sounds became

voices. Florence and one other, male and young.

"Mum's at work, so we've got hours," and his reply,

"Great! So, d'you want to do it in here then?"

43

Slightly Foxed

by Jane Lovering

I lay, frozen, somewhere between embarrassment and

outrage. Okay, so Florence was sixteen, legally overage, but

even so. I really didn't think I could lie here and listen. But

how could I reveal my presence and ever be able to look my

daughter in the face again?

"I'll get my equipment unpacked." I heard the sound of a

lot of zipping and lifting, before some heavy items thunked

onto the living-room floor.

"Jesus, do you carry
all
those lenses all the time?" Oh,

thank God and the patron saint of mothers everywhere. "Shall

I sit over here? Is the light good enough?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I'll get the meter on you, just in case.

D'you want to change?"

"Nah, this'll be cool. Do a couple of shots, full length and a

portrait, that'll be fine."

I held my hand against my heart which was beginning to

slow down and tried to stifle a giggle of relief. Florence was

having her picture taken. She must have persuaded one of

the school camera club to do the honours. It was my birthday

in three weeks, so maybe this was intended to be my present.

Well, it would make a change from the usual half a pound of

Dairy Milk and a card bearing a joke which I didn't

understand.

He did seem to know his business, asking her to toss her

hair back off her face and pretend to be looking out of the

window. I wished I dared peep out at my daughter, posing

and teasing yet with such innocence in her laughter and

delight in her voice. It reminded me of listening to her playing

44

Slightly Foxed

by Jane Lovering

with Alasdair when she was much smaller. I couldn't wait to

see the finished results.

When I heard her close the front door, I relaxed and

picked Theo back up off the covers. His face looked a little

bleary from my sleeping on him, but he still retained that

saturnine expression which hinted at dark passion, proved by

the words of his poetry. I plunged into his metaphors with

gusto—this was a man who had known
exactly
where to put

his alliteration for maximum effect.

I read on for a couple of hours, finishing the book, and

stared at the face of the poet as dusk seeped into the room.

Why couldn't I meet men like this? Where were they all, the

sensitive, artistic types with eyes which could pull the soul

from your body? How come the only men I met thought that

buying you two egg sandwiches and a Mars Bar made them

irresistible? Next door the telephone rang, I heard Florrie

answer and could only hope that she would have better luck

in her relationships than I had.
Hold out for one who's out of

the ordinary
, I breathed in a silent wish for her.
A man who

wants to be your friend first and your lover second. Someone

who knows you.

Florence came in, flooding the room with bright light and

energy. "It's Simon on the phone for you," she said, then,

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason." I wobbled to my feet, jet-lagged after an

unaccustomed afternoon away from the vertical. "Just

wondering what kind of man you'll end up with."

"Oh, that's easy." She danced into the kitchen and closed

the door, shouting "RICH" as she did so.

45

Slightly Foxed

by Jane Lovering

"Hello, Simon."

"Alys. How are you feeling? Are you recovering?"

"I'm fine."

"Good. Good. Ah. So you'll be able to come back to work?

Only, I need a favour."

Florence had re-emerged from the kitchen and sprawled

herself across the sofa with a magazine, obviously listening.

"Simon, I'm not running any more consignments of crack

across town," I said, deadpan.

She simply raised an eyebrow and mouthed, "Oh,
Mother.
"

"I'm sorry?" Poor Simon was baffled.

"Never mind. What can I do for you?"

He had only assured Mrs. Logan that I would personally

deliver her book into her hands within the week. I breathed a

sigh of relief that I hadn't already posted it. Simon really went

for the personal touch.

"You know I can't travel, Alys," Simon said reasonably. "I'd

be having panic attacks before the train left the station. And

sending Jacinta wouldn't be fair."

"But what do I do about Florence? I can't just hop off for a

couple of days and leave her alone. She's got school. Exams,

that sort of thing. She needs me."

"No I bloody don't," came the loving reply from the sofa.

"I'll go and stay at Dad's."

"It's only for a couple of days. Train down, taxi to Mrs.

Logan's house, hand over the book. I'll pay your expenses.

Come on, Alys." He took a noticeably wheedling tone. "You

went to university in Devon, didn't you? Wouldn't you like to

go back and have a look round?"

46

Slightly Foxed

by Jane Lovering

"I was at Exeter, yes. Briefly." I tried not to look at

Florence when I said this, but failed. She was sitting very still,

carefully not reacting. "Oh all right. I'll go."

"Thank you. I'm sorry to be asking, but it
is
due to your

carelessness that the book is at your flat."

"Yes, yes, all right, I get that. I did apologise. It must have

fallen into my bag from the pile on your table. I was going to

post it to her, but—"

Thankfully Simon's insuck of air prevented me from having

to admit that I'd been out on the lam with Piers. "
Post it?
A

valuable book like that? I'm surprised at you."

You'd have been a lot more surprised if you'd seen me last

night, I thought.

[Back to Table of Contents]

47

Slightly Foxed

by Jane Lovering

Chapter Seven

All the taxis at the rank outside Exeter station told me that

they only did trips into the town and Charlton Hawsell might

have been Ulan Bator as far as they were concerned. So

farther onward travel was provided by a single-decker bus

which smelled of damp paper towels.

Other books

Dare to Hold by Carly Phillips
Hellenic Immortal by Gene Doucette
Fates and Traitors by Jennifer Chiaverini
A Fistful of Knuckles by Tom Graham
Adoring Addie by Leslie Gould
Forbidden Magic by Jennifer Lyon
Happy Is The Bride by Caroline Clemmons
Uncanny Day by Cory Clubb
Too Much Trouble by Tom Avery
Double Take by Abby Bardi