The Look of Love (20 page)

‘She’s pretty scary, isn’t she?’ Bella said. ‘If what you wear is about saying what sort of person you are, then no wonder Dominic hardly dares open his mouth.’

‘He’s madly in love with her,’ Shirley remarked. ‘Any fool can see that.’

‘
What?
Is he?’ Jules said.

‘I hadn’t noticed – what makes you say that?’ Bella asked.

‘I only saw them briefly when I was on my way out the other day, but it’s obvious. He watches her all the time. And wherever she is, he’s only a couple of steps away. You check, next time. I think she scares him as well, though.’

‘She walks all over him,’ Bella commented. ‘But we’re not going to let her do that to us, are we?’ She felt anxious, having another wave of certainty that this was a silly, time-wasting mistake, and would result in them all looking like a bunch of noodles on primetime TV.

‘No, we’re not.’ Jules backed her up. ‘I’m not wearing an egg cosy for anyone, even if it’s got a Prada label, and if she insists you wear a puffball skirt that makes your arse the size of a planet, I’ll slice it off you with a bread knife if I have to.’

‘Honestly,’ Shirley looked puzzled, ‘I don’t know why you two are getting so steamed up about it. First of all you could have just said no, but as you didn’t, then don’t fuss. After all, it’s only
clothes
. None of it really matters.’

‘It’s all right for you to say,’ Bella told her. ‘You are so confident about what you buy that even Daisy couldn’t make you wavery.’

‘Gran’s the one in the family who’s got total
style
,’ Molly said. ‘Everything you wear looks amazing, like
designer
?
’

‘Well, I’ve learned to shop
very
carefully,’ Shirley replied. ‘And thank you darling, how sweet of you. I shall leave you all my money when I die.’

‘Yes, thanks Molly,’ Bella teased, ‘for making me feel like a no-hope frump.’

‘Oh you’re not. You’re OK. Just!’

‘Well, I’ve been to Rigby and Peller.’ Jules went to the fridge and took out a tomato salad. ‘And I’ve mortgaged my soul for underwear that hauls me in and flattens me down to the point where I won’t be able to eat a single thing because my digestive tract will be huddled in a
teeny corner of my torso, completely unable to function. So, let Daisy and Dominic do their worst. Come on, let’s eat.’

‘I’ve got a free afternoon tomorrow,’ Molly told Bella as they sat down. ‘So do you mind if I hang out and watch them do the first bits of filming? Didn’t you say that’s when it starts? I won’t get in the way, I promise.’

‘You’ll make me nervous, watching me screw up and look silly,’ Bella joked. ‘Can’t you take your computer down to the library and do some work there instead? Or just stay up in your room? Though it might be noisy, I suppose.’

‘Oh let her join in. It’ll be educational.’ Shirley pleaded Molly’s case. ‘Don’t all young ones want to be in
media
these days? With any luck, seeing how it’s really done will put her off.’

‘I am
here
, you know,’ Molly said, spooning crème fraiche into her potato. ‘Oh yum, this smells so good.’

‘Well maybe you could watch, I suppose, if you don’t get in the way. Ask Saul. We’re on colour tomorrow; Daisy’s bringing someone in to tell us what suits us. Humiliation number one – we have to wear no make-up at all and have our hair shoved under a white hairband.’

‘I think it’s a really good idea,’ Shirley said. ‘At least when you know a bit more about colour, it’ll get you out of wearing black, Bella. If someone else tells you it
makes you look washed out, perhaps you’ll believe them.’

‘Someone already did, thanks Mum.’ Bella laughed, thinking of the Carole-in-New-York moment. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve already got that message in my head.’

‘We mustn’t drink too much,’ Jules said, as she topped up Shirley and Bella’s glasses and then her own. It was just the three of them now; Molly had gone home to watch a must-see science fiction drama on TV. ‘It’s going to be bad enough being filmed all bare-skinned. A hangover face in the mix would make it even worse.’

‘Oh, a good dose of moisturizer will sort you out,’ Shirley advised. ‘And a dollop of that wonderful Clarins Beauty Flash Balm. That doesn’t count as make-up and it’ll tighten your skin up nicely. I swear by it.’

‘Thanks for the tip,’ Bella said, feeling suddenly dispirited at the thought of what lay ahead. ‘We’re mad. I hate the whole idea now. Though I did have a great day today at the props place with Saul.’

‘Ah – so, yes how did it go? He
likes
you!’ Jules teased, prodding her arm.

‘I like him; but not in that way.’

‘I think he likes
you
in
that way
,’ Jules giggled. ‘He doesn’t look at me or Dina the way he looks at you!’

‘You’re imagining it,’ Bella laughed, ‘and besides …’ She stopped. Their conversation at the pub seemed a
long time ago, but the intimacy of the subject matter was still close in her mind.

‘Besides what? Is he married? Oh not another one,’ Jules groaned.

‘Another one?’ Shirley queried.

‘Don’t ask, Mum. It was yet another of my hopeless mistakes. No, Saul’s not married; well, he was … but she died. Years ago.’

‘And he hasn’t remarried? Wasn’t he happy?’ Shirley persisted.

‘Er … Well actually, I don’t think I should be talking about him like this. It feels wrong. He’s on his own, he says. Unattached. That’s all I know. He sounded like they were very happy, though.’

‘Hmm.’ Shirley was pensive. ‘It’s funny, you know, but over the years I’ve found that the ones who’ve been widowed but were really happily married tend to marry again, or at least settle with someone else, pretty soon after the loss of the first wife. If marriage has been a happy state, they’re keen to repeat it. Too many then rush into it with the first person who gets to them.’

‘But what if they have that feeling that no one could possibly match up to the first one? Wouldn’t that make them go the other way, to avoid getting involved because they’re so sure it’s going to be second best? And what about that feeling that they couldn’t bear to lose someone all over again?’ Bella asked.

‘Ah, but,’ Shirley said, ‘after the initial mourning and grief, the truly happy ones find it’s the actual
marriage
they miss as much as the person. The sharing and the laughs and the companionship …’

‘And the cooking and the laundry services and so on!’ Bella laughed.

‘And the sex,’ Jules contributed.

‘Oh, sex; well yes. An attractive man can get all the sex he wants, but to have the kind of sex where you don’t want to be on your own immediately after and wish that the partner could stay, rather than go home … that’s just worth so much.’

‘Well …’ Bella finished her wine. ‘I’ve no idea really, about Saul. All I know is … um … I’m having dinner with him on Thursday night but …
What
? Why are you looking at me like that?’

Silence. Two pairs of eyes were wide and staring across the table at her.

‘What is it? I’m just saying … it’s just friendly. To talk about the programme and stuff …’

‘You’re waffling, Bella!’ her mother said.

‘Wow, you’re a secretive one, aren’t you? Why didn’t you say something before? See how right I was?’ Jules was triumphant. ‘I
told
you he likes you!’

What
was
Shirley up to? The thought had crossed Bella’s mind the night before, during dinner at Jules’s house. As Shirley was giving them the benefit of her widow-position wisdom, it had vaguely occurred to Bella that her mother was finding it very comfortable and convenient living away from her own home. It felt a bit mean, well
very
mean really, but Bella had had one of those detached moments and had thought, ‘How come you’re still here?’ Now she had woken up trying to work out why Shirley had not only not yet gone home, she hadn’t even mentioned that she ever intended to.

She got up quickly and went down to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, took it upstairs and pulled the curtains back (another stunning day; was a drab, miserable winter on its way to punish them for such glorious late-summer luck?) She climbed back into bed
to think while gazing out into the avenue’s chestnut trees, which were starting to change colour. They were late turning: fat conker cases were already dropping the first of their fruit, but the leaves had clung to their green as if unwilling to let the autumn begin. Now the edges of the leaves were becoming multi-toned, through the subtle yellows and heading for the scarlet and bone-dry browns.

Twice now, in the time she’d been staying at Bella’s, Shirley had slipped back to her own flat to bring over some essential wardrobe item. Why hadn’t she moved back home? When the shoplifting story hadn’t been in her local paper she could easily have returned to Walton, but instead, in spite of the chaos in Bella’s house, she was happily settled in and showed no sign of returning. Hmm. It was working all right so far … but was Shirley secretly planning to move in permanently with Bella, infiltrating by the subtle means of
not going home
? But oh … was there something wrong with her mother that meant she preferred not to be living alone right now, but to be enjoying the company of her family
while she could?

She didn’t look ill, that was for sure. In fact Shirley was looking pretty radiant these days. Her hair – a sleek, silver bob – was always perfectly styled, her clothes were enviably well put together (eat your heart out, Daisy) and she was forever … going out. Ah, maybe that was
it. Bella’s proximity to a Tube station – that must be the attraction. It was so easy for Shirley to get into town from here, to go to the endless exhibitions and galleries that she so enjoyed. Meeting friends, she’d said the other day. You didn’t do that if you were ill … or did you?

Bella finished her tea, went into the bathroom and switched on the shower. In one way James had a point, she thought. In a few years, with both Alex and Molly grown up, she would be more or less living alone; unless of course they both finished university and came back to the nest, unable to afford to buy somewhere to live. But if they didn’t … did she really want to spend the potential years of freedom (even at risk of loneliness) with her mother? It would be like being sent back to childhood. Her childhood hadn’t been too bad, once her alcoholic father was off the scene. All the same, she didn’t want to have to do it all again. She let the water cascade over her hair and decided: Shirley would have to be tackled, if only to see what was going on.

‘Panic, panic, PANIC!’ Daisy squealed as she raced into Bella’s house, followed by Dominic. Fliss trailed behind, looking sulky. ‘We really
do
need one more victim! I mean,
subject
. Obviously. Yes.
Subject
. Three just
won’t
work! Saul! One more!’ Saul was in the garden, directing the placement of some last-minute
tubs of Japanese anemones. He took his time coming into the house, possibly, Bella thought, building up some inner strength to face Daisy in full wrath mode. She wondered if he’d mentioned their forthcoming dinner date to Daisy. Something told her he probably hadn’t. Anyway, it wasn’t anyone else’s business but hers and Saul’s, so why would he?

Daisy was ranting to whoever was within range, not really focusing on anyone in particular. Today she was wearing open-toed cream canvas boots and a dress made from vintage teal and indigo Hermès horse-head scarves. Over this she had a little aubergine bolero of what looked like long, overstraightened hair. Bella tried not to think it might be human. Whatever it was, it made her think of shrunken heads in museums and the stuffed animals in the prop house she’d visited the other day.
Please
, she thought, don’t let this be a look Daisy might insist they all went for. Dominic was looking alarmed, keeping his distance and loitering by the doorway. This certainly wasn’t a moment when any adoration for Daisy was apparent in him.

‘Ideally, yes, four would have been perfect, but we’ve talked about this and we decided it would work far better than bringing in someone who is unconnected with the others.’ Saul was talking to Daisy quietly, as if hoping she too would lower her volume. A lost cause – if anything, Daisy got louder.

‘But I’ve changed my mind! It’s just not
symmetrical
! And besides, it’s supposed to be a group of supportive friends – that was the whole point. Three is
never
supportive! Everyone knows that. With three, ganging up happens. Threesomes never work!’

‘This one might …’ Dominic dared to venture. Daisy glared at him. He put his hands up in surrender and backed away.

‘But couldn’t having just three make it dramatically tense?’ Bella suggested, wishing immediately that she hadn’t said anything, and half looking for something to hide behind in case of flung missiles from Daisy.

‘
Dramatically tense
? I don’t need
dramatically tense
!’ Daisy hissed. ‘I need bodies to dress! I’ve got a truckful of clothes on their way from designers and stores who are
lending
me all their top tat on the understanding that it will get
highly valuable
airtime! I’m short of that skinny cute one and I need another!’

Saul laughed. ‘Ah – I get it!’ he said. ‘You didn’t cancel the Zoe factor from the wardrobe angle, did you? You’d ordered it all in even before you met her and then when she quit, you forgot! And now you’ve got a whopping great rail of size 8s coming, haven’t you?’

Daisy flung herself on to a chair, put her arms out along the table and her head down on them. Silver bracelets clanked as she drummed her small fists up and down in frustration. Her blue-black hair, with today’s
weavings of peony-pink silk threads, spread across her shoulders like a magpie wing, mingling slightly horrifically with the shiny tresses of the bolero. Dominic, meanwhile, had sloped off into the garden. Bella could see him at the far end, keeping well away from the furore and having a sly cigarette break under the plum tree.

‘Have you got her number? The Zoe one?’ Daisy’s head came up again and her startlingly wide blue eyes were fixed on Bella.

‘Sorry – she’s gone to stay with her mother,’ Bella told her. ‘She’s feeling terribly morning-sicknessy all the time.’