Still Thinking of You (19 page)

32. Jason’s New Love Interest

Jason was making great progress with his boarding lessons. Rich was a considerate and dedicated teacher, and Jase was a natural sportsman. He was fearless, tireless and, if the occasion necessitated it, mindless, too. He did not become frustrated with repeatedly practising the same moves over and over again in an effort to perfect a new skill, and his perseverance, a trait often lacking in daring sportsmen, paid off.

Mia had dutifully joined Jason for another snowboarding lesson from Rich; however, after falling over for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, she decided to return her board to the rental shop and get back on to her skis. She could not imagine that she would impress, let alone seduce Jase if she slowed his progress and wept in pain.

She made light of her failure by mocking those who were successful at what she couldn’t master.

‘I’ve decided I don’t want to join the baggy-trousered, peroxide-haired boarder girls, with their slouchy walks and their impossibly cool demeanours. They are so fake,’ she insisted.

‘You don’t have to be blonde to board,’ pointed out Jason.

‘But I have a feeling it helps,’ added Mia dryly.

‘Those girls know how to have fun at least,’ sighed Jason. Mia pretended not to hear him and went to find Ted and Kate. Rich was pleased to find himself alone with Jase. Jason was invariably sunny, and today he was positively bouncing. Rich hoped that some of his carefree attitude would rub off on him.

‘Yessssss. I’m fucking brilliant, if I say so myself,’ yelled Jason, as he had successfully negotiated an entire blue run on his board, only falling once

‘Mate, you are too modest,’ laughed Rich.

‘I am an Olympian hero,’ shouted Jase, holding his arms aloft like a weightlifter.

Rich smiled to himself. Jason was short, he had stumpy legs, he didn’t look like a hero, and yet Rich noticed that women couldn’t keep their eyes off him. Maybe, like Rich, they were attracted to Jason all the more because his confidence was as misplaced as it was abundant.

‘Seriously, though, you have every right to be proud of yourself. I’ve never seen anyone take to boarding as quickly as you have.’

‘Yeah, well, I’m truly motivated,’ smiled Jason.

‘Oh, yeah?’

‘Yeah, I have honey girls to impress. And I think it’s working.’

Rich looked around him, to see if Jason meant anyone in particular. He had noticed a couple of Italian girls who had been flashing smiles and fluttering eyelashes when they shared the chairlift. They were beauties and, of course, promised hot Mediterranean passion. Rich had had the best everything-other-than-sex in his life with Italian girls. They were the consummate teases. In fact, it was his opinion that only Italian women knew how to strip so as to be sluttish and quintessentially unobtainable at the same time. He smiled fondly at the memory of his various Italian girlfriends, and then his grin broadened as he registered that, while he was buoyed up by the recollection, he wasn’t in the slightest bit interested in these girls’ flirtatious come-ons. Not now he had Tash. He was happy to retire from the game and enjoy living the chase vicariously through Jase.

‘You mean the Italian girls?’ he asked.

‘Oh, no, I’m thinking of something much closer to home,’ Jason raised his eyebrows, and nodded to the left of Rich. Rich turned around.

Jayne.

Jayne was standing only metres away. She smiled broadly and headed towards them. Both Jason and Rich felt giddy, although neither of them suspected the other.

‘Hi, guys. You looked fantastic out there, Jase. I’ve been watching you.’ Jayne scooted up to Jason and leant in to place a full, lingering kiss on his mouth. Rich was pretty sure that she didn’t use her tongue.

Pretty sure.

But she definitely meant to be more than friendly.

Jason grinned, ‘You think so?’

‘You’re a natural. I love sporty men.’ Her big smile dissolved into a pout, and then – and Rich could hardly believe that she really did this – she started to chew on her little fingernail as she cocked her head to one side. She ran her wet finger over her lower lip, leaving some saliva glistening. Rich sighed impatiently. She might as well have carried a sign saying ‘I give good head’ – which, by the way, was true.

Her tactics were transparent. She was trying to make him jealous. How pathetically juvenile. It wouldn’t work. The only loser here was poor Jase. He clearly had the hots for Jayne, and she was leading him to believe that the feeling was mutual.

‘Is it OK if I join you?’

‘Yes,’ said Jason at the exact moment that Rich spat out an emphatic ‘No.’

‘I thought you were boarding with Tash.’

‘I lost her.’

Rich didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified. ‘We were just going to practise some more turns,’ said Rich. ‘You’d be bored.’

Jayne didn’t acknowledge Rich, but simply repeated her question to Jason, who of course agreed instantly. She grabbed his hand, and they made their way to the chairlift.

Rich climbed on the chair behind theirs and was forced to watch Jayne’s show of affection as she flirted, caressed and whispered into Jason’s ear for the entire ride. At the top of the run, Jayne took charge of Jason’s tuition, leaving Rich feeling redundant. He toyed with the idea of boarding away and going to find some of the others, or just going to one of the parks and doing his own thing, but he didn’t want to leave Jason alone with Jayne.

He was being irrational. Jason could more than look after himself where women were concerned and, even if Jayne were only paying attention to Jase in a misguided effort to irritate Rich, the chances were Jason wouldn’t care. Like most men, Jason rarely questioned women’s motivations for not wanting to sleep with him, and he
never
questioned their motivation when they did want to. All the signs were that Jayne did want to.

Still, Rich felt uneasy. They stayed together for a couple of runs, slowly making their way down and then back up the slopes. Jason’s already good technique improved further under Jayne’s tuition, and he wanted to try a longer run.

‘As much as I’d love to stay and watch, I have got to get back. We girlies are meeting for lunch, then I’m going to the hotel spa. I have an appointment with a mud bath.’

‘Oh, lucky mud,’ grinned Jase, as he and Rich watched Jayne’s lithe body float across the snow. ‘Great arse,’ he added. Rich shrugged, and refused to agree.

‘I can’t believe Jayne invited herself along,’ Rich muttered, ostensibly to himself, but in reality he wanted Jason to hear. He felt that they needed to talk. That was another thing Tash had done to him. Suddenly he was feeling things so deeply that he had overwhelming urges to bloody share them. He was British, for God’s sake, and male. He didn’t know how to deal with these impulses to communicate.

‘Why, mate? What’s the matter with Jayne joining the party?’ asked Jason.

‘Well, you know. Numbers and stuff. This isn’t just a holiday, it’s our wedding,’ Rich tried to sound indignant, rather than terrified. ‘We wanted to keep it small, just very close friends. Christ, if my mother finds out that my friend’s sister came along because of some spat with her boyfriend, after I’ve insisted that I’m keeping it to essential witnesses, she’ll never forgive me.’ Rich was stalling.

‘I’m not complaining,’ replied Jason. ‘She’s
über
-fit. As far as I’m concerned, she evens the numbers up. Before she arrived I didn’t have a chance of a shag, which I think you’ll agree is a tradition for the best man. Nay, a duty. No disrespect, but I can’t do Tash.’

‘No, you can’t,’ bit Rich dryly.

‘Kate is, well…’

‘Fat.’

‘I was going to say married.’

‘Maybe, but you meant fat.’

‘Yeah, I did. And Mia and I have done it every which way. There’s no challenge in a repeat performance. Jayne is a very welcome addition.’

‘She’s Ted’s sister,’ objected Rich, aware that he was being a hypocrite.

‘Yes, true. But that doesn’t have to be a big deal. I figure it will be worth the faux pas because I figure she’ll go like a train.’ Jason smiled to himself and contemplated with relish the moment that he’d get to find out for certain. ‘Anyway, she’s clearly gagging for me. It would be rude not to.’

‘I have her down as a prick tease. I don’t think she’ll follow through. You could spend your entire holiday trying to get one in the back of the net and never do it,’ argued Rich.

‘No, she’s there for the taking.’

‘What makes you so sure?’

‘Let’s just say that we got very close last night.’

‘How close?’ asked Rich. He wished he knew why he wanted to know. His question was complexly motivated. He was curious, that much was certain – he was always curious about Jase’s conquests, as Jase had always been about his. They always swapped details. Well, nearly always. Of course, Jayne was a notable exception. He was also nervous. Nervous because he didn’t want Jase and Jayne to become close. That was nearly as bad as Jayne and Tash becoming close. Closeness inevitably led to confidences and, clearly, that would lead to trouble. Finally, he wanted to protect Jason. He didn’t want Jayne to use Jason to get at him, and he was fairly certain that was what she was doing.

‘Are you jealous, mate?’ laughed Jason. His question wasn’t entirely serious, nor was it entirely a joke either.

Was he?

‘Funny. Why should I be jealous? I have Tash.’

‘Fair point. Tash is a cracker. But Jayne, there’s something irresistibly filthy about her, isn’t there? Don’t tell me you wouldn’t be interested if you weren’t with Tash.’

‘She’s not my type,’ said Rich firmly.

‘You have a pulse, don’t you. Of course she’s your type. Anyway, she put the blow in blow job for me last night and I tell you, mate, I was the best man.’ Jason winked, and set off down the mountain at a surprising speed, leaving Rich to take in the significance of his words.

33. Black Run Monday

Ted and Lloyd had grabbed a light bite and quickly got back to the slopes. They’d lost sight of Rich and Jase that morning and, while the girls were meeting for lunch again, it was clear they didn’t want the boys to join in. ‘Go away. We don’t want you to join our lunch,’ had in fact been Jayne’s exact words. Of course, she’d delivered them with that bewitching smile of hers, demonstrating she was only playing. The guys weren’t offended. They thought it pretty slack to call it a day at 2 p.m. when there was still good light until at least four.

The guys took a lift to the highest point in Avoriaz, Les Hauts Forts, which was 2,466 metres closer to the clouds than the hotel. Their main motivation for selecting this difficult run was so they could mention it at dinner that evening; however, their initial competitiveness was blown away on first sight of the spectacular view and was replaced by something approaching awe.

‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it? When I’m somewhere like this I can understand why Kate believes in God,’ mused Ted.

‘Don’t you?’ asked Lloyd. ‘I assumed you did.’

‘Don’t know,’ replied Ted thoughtfully. ‘I suppose. But not actively, if you know what I mean? Not actively until I’m somewhere like here.’

Lloyd followed Ted’s gaze and understood him. They sat in silence for some moments, drinking in the pink, blue and golden skies.

‘Look, Lloyd, old chap, I’m glad that we’ve got this chance to… I wanted to say…’ Ted didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say. ‘About the other night, Saturday.’

‘Oh, let’s not go there. I’d drunk a brewery,’ smiled Lloyd.

He was embarrassed that Ted had brought up the subject of his pissed-ness. Since his outburst, he’d tried very hard to be the perfect guest. Last night he and Mia had enjoyed a few quiet drinks, then turned in before midnight. He had been careful to confine his conversations to subjects such as his work and the effects of GM crops on the environment. He did not mention his divorce, the lack of dinner-party invitations or Saturday night’s outburst. He hoped, although didn’t really believe, that everyone had forgotten it.

Still, if anyone was going to mention it, it was better that it was Ted. Ted and Lloyd had once been close friends. They’d both married and had children, which set them apart from Jason and Rich. That said, Lloyd was divorced now, which set him apart from everyone.

‘I just wanted to say that I’m sorry we haven’t seen much of one another recently,’ said Ted. ‘But it’s not what you think. I’m not avoiding you. There’s been a lot going on in my life, too, which, er, made it more difficult than usual to see friends.’

‘Oh.’ Lloyd waited to see if Ted was going to say anything else.

It wasn’t their style to probe. They’d both been trained at public school and would rather eat their own innards than probe uninvited into their friends’ personal lives. Ted would offer as much information as he deemed necessary. Lloyd would accept any detail he was given without asking further questions.

For a moment Ted thought he might want to say more to Lloyd. He really wanted to talk to someone, explain it to someone and get some advice. What a mess he was in. What a mess he’d got himself in. The stress of this enormous secret was taking its toll. He was comfort eating and therefore piling on the pounds. Everyone assumed that his recent weight increase was due to the numerous client dinners that he attended. If only. His body had never been very athletic, but this year Ted hadn’t needed padding to bulk out the Father Christmas costume which he wore for the children’s party. He should probably go to the gym. But even as the thought flitted into his mind he dismissed it. He knew he wouldn’t. He used to say he didn’t have the time, that worrying about getting fat was women’s work. Now he had time, but he still didn’t go.

He had no energy. No drive.

And yet he was hardly sleeping. He knew that he looked closer to a guy in his late forties than mid-thirties.

Even here in beautiful Avoriaz Ted couldn’t relax. Ted had spent most of last night watching the digital numbers on the clock radio add up to 6.15 a.m. He’d lain rigid, pretending to be asleep, desperate not to wake Kate. Eventually, when time had crawled to 6.15 a.m., he couldn’t stay still any longer and had decided to swing his legs out of bed and get up. It was a relief to stretch after spending another night feigning sleep. He’d slept for an hour, at tops. He could have got up almost as soon as he’d gone to bed. Ted wondered whether if he did that often enough, and quickly enough, he could turn back time. Because Ted, who had always been a big believer in progress, would very much like to turn back time.

Of course, he knew it was impossible. The space–time conundrum was nothing more than a little boy’s fantasy. And a little man’s fantasy.

He’d tried not to wake Kate. She was used to getting up early, as the kids demanded her attention from about 6.30 a.m. every day, but she might as well get the extra snooze time while she could. They were on holiday, after all. Besides, he didn’t really want a postmortem of last night. He doubted Kate would push the issue of him turning down sex. It wasn’t her style. They’d been together long enough to know that sex drives come and go, and that they don’t always flow in sync with one another, tragically. Kate hadn’t wanted sex for months in a row in the past; admittedly, it was usually towards the end of her pregnancies. But, still, he didn’t want to risk having the conversation. It wasn’t dignified.

Despite his care, Kate had sensed that Ted was awake, and she’d rolled over towards his side of the bed. She didn’t open her eyes, but lifted her head off the pillow and smiled in his direction, the way she did every day. Ted loved that and smiled back, even though she was still too bleary-eyed to notice. Ted thought his wife was beautiful. He knew she worried about her weight, and it was true that her waistline was thickening and her boobs were sort of melting towards the floor, but Ted didn’t care about that. That morning he’d watched her sprawled sleepily across the bed. Her skin warm, voluptuous and inviting, her brow a little furrowed, her stomach exposed, wearing her Caesarean scars like war medals, and for a moment he’d had difficulty continuing just to breathe in and out. His heart contracted with love, leaving him, even after all these years, breathless.

How could he have done such a terrible thing to her? To the woman he loved so much?

‘What’s the rush?’ she’d asked sleepily. ‘No need to get up early this morning.’

Ted hadn’t bothered to reply. Instead he’d stepped out of his boxers and headed into the bathroom. He’d held his penis in one hand and used the other to scratch his head, his stomach and then his arse. He’d watched himself in the mirror as he did so. Maybe he would get a hint from his reflection as to what this was all about. His hair was thinning and actually turning grey. He patted and pulled at the skin on his face. It didn’t help much – he looked tired. He turned sideways to check out his profile. He had at least two chins. Bugger, his urine had splashed on the floor. Kate wouldn’t like that.

Ted liked the shower on full force and the temperature up high. He liked the feeling of the water drilling down on to his back. A good, hot, strong shower was the best way to start the day. He tried not to think about the time when he’d thought sex was the best way to start the day, but Ted honestly couldn’t remember when he last had sex in the morning. When they were trying to conceive Aurora? Maybe, or maybe before then? He’d considered having a wank, but couldn’t summon the energy for that either.

Ted washed with designer liquid soaps which Kate had packed, even though the hotel provided perfectly good toiletries. Kate would never use hotel toiletries. When he once asked her why she replied, ‘Because
nobody
does!’, as though he were stupid for not knowing that particular piece of universal bathroom etiquette. Kate insisted that they spend a lot of money on ‘treating our senses’, as she called it. She said Ted worked damn hard and needed to be pampered.

Fuck.

The designer liquid soap, to wash away his sweat, cost twenty-two quid a bottle. It did smell good, and it was thick and creamy – although Ted always liked the smell of Imperial Leather well enough, it reminded him of his father. His shampoo cost
£
17.50. His toothpaste cost
£
8 a tube. His aftershave, over fifty quid.

Fuck.

Ted got out of the shower. He left large footprints on the marble floor. He barely noticed that the tiles were underheated because Ted and Kate had the same at home. Underfloor heating cost a small fortune, but Kate didn’t like radiators. She’d read somewhere that they ruined
chi
. So, last year they removed all twenty Bisque radiators which they’d had installed throughout the house in 2001, installing underfloor heating instead.

Fuck.

Ted had stared at his heavy footprints and found them a comfort. Sometimes, recently, he worried that he’d disappeared. He’d towel-dried himself with the Egyptian cotton bath sheets, which took a long time because he was a very hairy man. As a teenager, he had grown pubes and hair on his chest and legs long before anyone else. He’d been very proud of his hirsute state and enjoyed walking naked around the locker changing rooms. He loved being so manly when the majority of the others were clearly still boys, with high balls and bare chests. He hated to admit it now, but he used to whip the hairless boys with wet towels. Not that Ted was a particular bully, far from it; it was simply the done thing at his school. No one complained.

Now Ted had hairy arms, back and shoulders. He even had hairs spouting from his nose, ears and on the back of his hands. He had grown into Mia’s nickname. He’d become a large, rotund teddy bear. Ted read a disproportionately large amount of articles about how women find excessive hair growth a turn-off. He’d worry about that, except Kate had never complained.

Kate didn’t complain about things like that. About how he looked, or even the things he said. She was very easygoing on him. She swore it was because she loved him and thought he was perfect. But Ted didn’t need to look at his reflection in the mirror this morning to know that he wasn’t perfect. How could she love him? Really love him? She might love the Ted Lewis-Ponsonby package, i.e. the huge three-storey mansion in Holland Park and the converted farmhouse in Bordeaux, the Jaguar, the Range Rover, the private schools, private health care, the full-time housekeeper, the designer wardrobe and the half a dozen holidays a year. The chubby thighs, the paunchy belly, the thinning hair and the slimming conversation were accepted as part of that package.

They would not stand alone.

Ted was thinking all of this as he sat with Lloyd on the mountainside. He did not turn to face Lloyd. He did not want to catch his eye. He needn’t have worried. Lloyd was well aware that this was a very personal conversation, and therefore he had no intention of looking directly at Ted either. Guys only met one another’s eyes when they were on safe ground, such as when they were discussing bottled-beer preferences or horsepower.

‘Things OK?’ asked Lloyd.

He racked his brains as to what might possibly not be OK in Ted and Kate’s world. He was clueless. Ted’s parents were both healthy and lived very comfortably in their old pile in Suffolk. He knew that Kate’s mother was well because last night she was saying that they had just bought her a house in the Cotswolds, for her to retire to. As far as he knew, the kids were doing fine at school. What could be wrong? Could Ted be ill? Lloyd stole a glance.

Christ, it was possible. He looked crap. Fat and sallow-skinned. Lloyd felt concern rising through his body, his heartbeat quickening. He’d been so engrossed in his own problems that he hadn’t noticed.

‘Are you ill?’ he demanded.

‘No, not ill,’ sighed Ted. Lloyd raced through other possible explanations. Something was very clearly amiss. What could it be? And then suddenly he knew. Of course. It appalled him, possibly more than the idea of Ted being ill. Of course, that’s why Ted had chosen to confide in
Lloyd
. That was the thing everyone confided in Lloyd, and he was sick of it.

Ted was playing away.

God, it disgusted him that so many people thought that just because he’d once been indiscreet they could unburden their sordid tales to him. He didn’t want to know if Ted was having an affair. He couldn’t have cared less. It wasn’t romantic, or amazing, or clever, or even different. And he should know. Lloyd turned to Ted to say as much, but something stopped him. Ted’s eyes were fractured with worry, not bright with passion. His body was bloated with indifference, not taut with illicit pleasure. His face was a maze of anxious wrinkles. He did not look like a man in the middle of a fevered dangerous liaison.

‘What’s the matter, buddy?’

And Ted wanted to tell him, as he’d wanted to tell Kate for several months now. The problem was that he couldn’t find the words. He wanted to unburden himself. Just by blurting out his secret he would feel better, surely. Perhaps if he confided in Lloyd, Lloyd could be the one to talk to Kate. Maybe it would be better if this kind of thing came from a third person. But maybe not.

He’d let Kate down. Brutally. Dismally. Completely. He could not imagine a way in which he could put things right. He’d lain awake night after night coming up with plan after impossible plan to try to fix things. They were fantasies, not solutions. The very least he owed her was a bit of directness. Ted had to talk to Kate before he talked to anyone else.

‘Nothing’s the matter. I’m cool.’ Ted forced his mouth into, if not a smile, then at least a line. ‘In fact, I’m not just cool, I’m cold,’ he joked weakly. ‘Let’s get going again.’ And before Lloyd could quiz him further, Ted was up and away down the slope.

Lloyd sighed, relieved. Thank God everything was OK with Ted and Kate. Their OK-ness was a given. An absolute. A necessity. Hearing that they were in the slightest bit shaky was tantamount to declaring a disbelief in sunny childhoods or happy endings. And Lloyd more than anyone needed to believe in happy endings.

Lloyd launched himself down the slope after Ted. He swept to the left and to the right, and then left again. He was pleased with his speed and technique. That was the amazing thing about snow. Every year he forgot just how fabulous it felt to be up on the slopes until he was there, and it made him feel fantastic. So bloody strong and in control. This was a tricky run, and only the extremely competent skiers even attempted it, so it was genuinely peaceful. It was possible to get to quite a speed and just enjoy the velocity without worrying about bumping into gaggles of boisterous novices from the ski schools.