Swimming Pool Sunday (24 page)

Read Swimming Pool Sunday Online

Authors: Madeleine Wickham,Sophie Kinsella

Tags: #Contemporary Women

BOOK: Swimming Pool Sunday
12.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘How do you think that makes me feel?’

Amelia gazed back in silence. She didn’t really understand what had happened. One minute Mrs Russet had been all friendly, then she’d suddenly changed and started saying horrible things. And she’d had a huge row with Mummy, and now Mummy was furious, and it all seemed to be Amelia’s fault. Suddenly Amelia gave a little sob. Louise turned to look at her, and the angry lines in her forehead softened.

‘Oh, Amelia, darling,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.’ She gave a small strange laugh, and changed gear roughly. ‘It’s my fault, just like she said. If I’d remembered to pick you up, this would never have happened.’

‘It’s not your fault,’ said Amelia fiercely. ‘I hate Mrs Russet,’ she added. ‘I wish she’d just go away.’ Louise sighed.

‘So do I,’ she said, ‘but somehow I think that’s a bit unlikely.’

When they got home, Frances Mold was waiting on the doorstep. She looked worried and stepped forward as soon as the car stopped. Louise looked at her with a curious, not particularly friendly expression. She knew Frances was a close friend of Meredith Delaney. No doubt she was firmly in the Delaneys’ camp.

‘I’ve just had Gillian Russet on the phone,’ said Frances, as Louise got out of the car. ‘I’m afraid she was … a little worked up.’ Her eyes moved briefly to Amelia and back to Louise.

‘Amelia,’ said Louise, handing her the door key, ‘let yourself in, and then go and play in the garden.’ As Amelia clattered off, Louise turned towards Frances with frank bitterness in her face.

‘Don’t tell me,’ she said, ‘you think she’s right. You think I brought Katie’s accident on myself as a punishment.’ Frances’s face didn’t flicker.

‘Of course not,’ she said steadily. ‘I’m afraid Gillian tends to get things out of proportion,’ she added. ‘Alan’s had to speak to her before about this sort of thing.’

‘Really?’ said Louise sharply. ‘And is he going to speak to her this time?’

‘Of course,’ said Frances simply. She sighed. ‘Actually, I think he’ll get quite angry with her.’ She ran a weary hand over her face. ‘Gillian has a lot to learn about compassion, but she’s actually very well-meaning in many respects.’ Frances looked at Louise earnestly. ‘I hope you can manage to forgive her.’

Louise leaned back against the car. She felt suddenly very weak.

‘That woman has no idea,’ she said unsteadily, ‘no idea what this has been like for us.’

‘I know she hasn’t,’ agreed Frances. ‘None of us has.’ She came over and leaned back next to Louise.

‘I feel I haven’t been as supportive as I should.’ She looked at Louise. ‘I was wondering, when Katie comes home, whether I could help you with her. Perhaps I could come and read with her? Would that be helpful?’

Louise looked at Frances’s earnest ugly face and felt almost tearful.

‘I’m sure that would be a great help,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’ Then, before she could stop it, her old defensive anger flooded to the front of her mind, and she added in a sharp voice, ‘What will Meredith think? I thought you were a great friend of hers?’

‘I am,’ agreed Frances, ‘but Meredith will, I’m sure, simply be glad that I can help.’ She looked steadily at Louise. ‘We all want to help, really. Unfortunately the Delaneys have been legally advised …’

‘To stay away from us?’

Frances nodded slightly.

‘I suppose you think’, said Louise, her voice harsh and defensive, ‘that we’re evil people, taking Hugh and Ursula to court.’

‘Not at all,’ said Frances mildly. ‘I have every faith in British justice. If you do have a case, then I’m sure the system will work.’

Louise stared at Frances, unaccountably dissatisfied by this answer. Then she shrugged. ‘Well, Katie’s coming home in a week or so,’ she said.

‘That’s marvellous!’ said Frances. ‘I’ll look out some easy reading books.’ She looked anxiously at Louise. ‘She is reading, isn’t she?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Louise, suddenly breaking into a smile. ‘She’s done so well! The programme at Forest Lodge is just wonderful. You’d almost never know …’

She broke off suddenly, as though struck by something, and frowned.

‘Well, I’ll be in touch,’ said Frances. She looked seriously at Louise. ‘And I’m sorry about Gillian Russet. I hope very much that Alan will be able to persuade her that testifying against you is not, as she seems to think, her duty. But I’m afraid she’s not constrained to do what he advises; she’s her own person.’ She spread her hands helplessly.

‘Well, thanks for trying, anyway,’ said Louise. ‘Thank you …’ She swallowed. ‘Thank you for everything.’

Meredith was not as glad as Frances had predicted. She glared at Frances as she handed her a glass of sherry, and said, reproachfully, ‘You’re supposed to be on our side.’

‘Meredith,’ remonstrated Frances. ‘I’ll pretend you didn’t really say that.’

‘Well, for Pete’s sake, Frances,’ said Meredith, ‘this is taking good behaviour a bit far, isn’t it? You’ll be testifying against us in court, next.’

‘Meredith!’ said Frances, suddenly angry, ‘I can’t believe you’re so obsessed by this case that you can’t feel compassion for an injured child.’

Meredith stared at Frances, chastened.

‘I know,’ she muttered eventually, ‘I’m sorry. I think it’s really good of you to help out like that.’ She took a sip of vodka. ‘And I even think you’re right about this nut-case woman,’ she added. ‘If she offers to besmirch Louise’s character in court for us, we’ll say, no thanks.’

‘I think that would be wise,’ said Frances.

‘Even though’, Meredith’s eyes began to gleam, ‘it would be great to have her up there on the stand. Wouldn’t it? I mean, she’s practically saying Louise threw Katie off the diving-board herself!’

‘She’s completely overreacted to the situation,’ said Frances. ‘I’m sure she’ll calm down eventually.’

‘That’s what I keep saying,’ put in Ursula, surprisingly, from her corner chair. ‘I’m sure everyone will calm down eventually and this silly case will all blow over.’

Frances glanced at Meredith, who raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders.

‘I hope you’re right, Ursula,’ said Frances pleasantly, ‘but, you know, I’d say there’s a fair chance it might not blow over. You really should be prepared for that.’

Ursula, who was bent once more over her tapestry, looked up. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. She had to admit, in her own mind, that her conciliatory letter to Louise had not been as effective as she had hoped. Louise had returned the bundle of banknotes almost immediately, accompanied by a short note which thanked Ursula politely for her kind wishes and added that she couldn’t possibly accept so much money.

But Ursula had not given up. The bundle of money still sat, untouched, in her dressing-table, together with another, unfinished letter. She was absolutely sure that if only she could express herself properly; if only she could find exactly the right words, then all this unpleasantness could be overcome …

Ursula’s thoughts were interrupted by Meredith.

‘You know,’ she was saying to Frances, ‘what gets me is walking through the village and seeing everyone’s faces, and knowing they’ve been talking about it.’ She gestured dramatically with her arm. ‘Seeing their gleaming eyes, and their hands rubbing together, waiting for our downfall. They just can’t wait.’

‘Rubbish,’ said Frances. She grinned at Meredith. ‘You’re just getting paranoid.’

‘It’s true,’ insisted Meredith. ‘All the sympathy’s on Katie’s side. They think we must be child murderers or something. And what they really want is for the courts to make a huge award to the Kembers. A kind of lottery
award. A couple of million pounds would do the trick. So they can all gasp to each other, and wonder what they would do if
they
won two million. Then, of course, when they realize it’s us who’s got to pay it, a few will start feeling sorry for us, but it’ll be too late by then. Far, far too late.’ She tossed her hair melodramatically.

‘Meredith!’ Frances was laughing. ‘I’m sure no-one thinks like that.’

‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Meredith darkly. ‘You don’t know how low people sink when the vicar’s wife isn’t around to keep them in line.’

She grinned wickedly at Frances, who blushed very slightly and said, ‘Nonsense!’

Ursula, whose attention had drifted away during Meredith’s little speech, put down her tapestry and stood up.

‘I’m going to pick some raspberries for supper,’ she said.

‘I’ll come out in a minute,’ said Meredith. ‘Have another drink, Frances.’

Frances hesitated, then she held out her glass.

‘I think I need it,’ she said cheerfully. ‘After listening to nonsensical tirades from you
and
Gillian Russet in one evening …’ She looked at Meredith and gave a little giggle.

‘Actually,’ she said, as Ursula closed the door, ‘I was thinking, as I listened to Gillian shouting down the phone, that if any court heard such a dreadful diatribe against Louise, they would probably immediately find in Louise’s favour. Just out of sympathy.’

Meredith grinned.

‘I guess no witness is better than a lousy witness.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Mind you, what about poor old Ursula? If she has to testify as a witness, we’re done for. Witless, more like.’ She began to shake with giggles. ‘She’ll say something like … she always thought the swimming-pool was dangerous for children.’

‘Don’t!’ said Frances, trying not to laugh. Suddenly Meredith stopped giggling.

‘Oh Jeez. Why am I laughing about it?’ She leaned back and closed her eyes. ‘The worst thing is how long everything is taking. I mean, they haven’t even filed their claim against us yet. This whole case could take years, and meanwhile we can’t make any plans. Oh, no, better not do that; we might go bankrupt next year. What kind of life is that?’ She took a swig of vodka, emptying her glass, and roughly put it down on a side-table, with a little crash.

Frances took a sip of sherry and looked seriously at Meredith.

‘Why is it taking so long?’

Meredith shrugged. ‘Alexis says there’s been some delay on the other side. Apparently these things always take ages; lawyers are never in a hurry.’ She ran a hand through her hair and winced as it was caught up in a tangle. ‘It’s fine for them,’ she said in a bitter voice. ‘They’re not even paying their own fucking legal fees. Nothing to lose.’

‘And you …’

‘Alexis is being very generous,’ said Meredith in a carefully flat voice, ‘but he has to eat. He can’t do it all for nothing.’ She picked up her glass and got up to pour another drink, ignoring Frances’s quizzical look.

When she sat down again, she seemed to be pondering whether to say something. Frances waited. Eventually Meredith said, in a low casual voice, ‘What is it with Alexis, Frances? I really like him, you know.’ She swallowed. ‘I always thought he and I might … you know, get together.’ She fingered the soft fabric of the sofa. ‘And he’s round here often enough – I’m sure he wants to make a move on me, but nothing ever happens.’

Meredith paused. She could feel Frances drawing breath, and hurriedly carried on, ‘So I was wondering,’
she said in a rush, ‘do you think it would be a good idea to make a pass? Or do you think that would frighten him off?’

Meredith looked up. The expression on Frances’s face scared her.

‘What?’ she said. ‘What is it?’

‘Don’t you know?’ said Frances. She exhaled sharply. ‘I can’t believe you don’t know.’

‘Know? Know what?’ Meredith’s heart began to thud. ‘What should I know?’

‘Oh, Meredith,’ said Frances sadly. She took hold of Meredith’s hand. ‘Alexis is having an affair.’ She paused and squeezed Meredith’s cold hand tighter. ‘He’s having an affair … with little Daisy Phillips.’

Chapter Fifteen

Alexis lay entwined with Daisy on the floor of her sitting-room, while around them pounded and swirled a Sibelius symphony. He had just brought Daisy to a shuddering orgasm, and was now watching her face with almost unbearable tenderness, as her contorted features softened, her eyes slowly opened, and she gave him a shy embarrassed smile.

He stared at her silently, running his eyes over her flushed face; breathing in her scent; feeling the haunting, pulsating, powerful music coursing through the air and into his body. He felt as though each sense and every emotion was being tested to breaking-point. Daisy gave a little sigh and snuggled closer, so that her body fitted neatly into his. She smiled up at Alexis and he looked back; unable to express himself; unable to do anything except put out a trembling finger and gently push back a strand of her hair.

‘I always …’ began Daisy in a soft voice against his chest. She stopped. Alexis ran an encouraging hand down her back, around her waist, and began to tickle her tummy. She giggled.

‘What do you always?’ he said tenderly.

‘I always think …’ Daisy blushed. ‘I think … will it really happen again? You know … will I …’ She broke off and blushed even harder. ‘Each time, it’s so lovely, I can’t believe it’ll ever happen again.’

Alexis stopped tickling Daisy’s tummy and kissed her neck. Daisy gave a little gasp.

‘I don’t mean’, she added hurriedly, ‘that I don’t think
you … I mean, I know you’re really …’ She broke off and looked at him with worried eyes, as though afraid she might have given offence. Alexis threw back his head and laughed.

‘Daisy, my darling, it’s all right. You’re allowed to doubt my technique if you like.’ Daisy gave a little jump.

‘But I don’t,’ she said anxiously. ‘I didn’t mean …’

‘It’s all right,’ said Alexis. ‘I know what you meant.’ Daisy stared at him doubtfully for a moment, then smiled and closed her eyes.

Alexis stared at the roughly plastered, oak-beamed ceiling. The symphony had reached its inexorable climax; triumphant horns and strings pounded loudly around him. And inside, Alexis felt a soaring triumph to match. But it was a triumph dulled by a strange, chastening humility. He had felt humble ever since, a few weeks ago, they had made love for the first time – and for Daisy, it had transpired, the first time ever.

He still remembered the shock – of panic, guilt, and a sneaking relief – as he’d discovered that he was the first. He’d been sliding a cautious hand up between her legs, hastily shaking off his own trousers at the same time, trying desperately to judge her expression, ready at any moment to retreat if necessary. And, to pave the way slightly, he had murmured against her neck, ‘It must seem strange for you – doing this with someone so much older.’

Other books

We Stand at the Gate by James Pratt
A Twist of Betrayal by Allie Harrison
The Spoiler by Domenic Stansberry
The Clockwork Teddy by John J. Lamb
Blonde and Blue by Trina M Lee
Understanding Research by Franklin, Marianne
Beauty and The Highlander by McQueen, Hildie
Loving the White Liar by Kate Stewart