Venus Envy (33 page)

‘Why so down?’ Gordon asked when he came in at lunch. ‘Always look on the bright side of life. You’re never fully dressed without a smile. Whistle while you work.’

‘How do you know I’m down?’ I mumbled. ‘How?’ He threw an expansive arm around the shop. ‘You’re not cleaning, stacking, moving, packing or typing. Nor are you mooning over sculpture books

or throwing clay birds in my back yard.’

‘Just a bit of man trouble.’

‘Don’t talk to me!’ Gordon said fiercely. ThenI Who can understand them? Doesn’t he like you?’ , I shook my head.

‘Maybe he’s gay,’ Gordon said with satisfaction, ‘yes, he must be gay, and you don’t want to wind up a fag-hag, too demeaning, so you’d better hand over his phone number. I promise not to be too rough.’

‘Tom’s not gay,’ I said morosely. ‘Tom’s as straight as ,a laser. He used to be a soldier.’

‘Truly butch, how thrilling.’ Gordon looked at me, and stopped himself. ‘Oh, spoilsport, perhaps he isn’t gay, well, it’s his loss. Why doesn’t he like you?’

‘Because he’s in love with someone else. With -‘ I forced it out - ‘my kid sister.’

‘Ahh.’ Gordon tried to look sympathetic, but he was gripped, the gossip hound. Who could blame him? If it was anybody but me, I’d have. been gripped too. ‘So the arsenic in the teacup option is ruled out? Tampering with her brakes is a nonstarter?’

“Fraid so,’ I said. I couldn’t help it, a big tear welled up over my lashes and splashed on to my cheek.

‘Come on now. This too will pass,’ said Gordon, coming over all profound. ‘Plenty more flesh on the street.’

‘Don’t you meanm’

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‘I know what I mean,’ said Gordon with a jaunty wink, going into the back.

All I wanted was to be left alone with my heartbreak, but Gordon wasn’t having any of it. He had plenty of advice, and since he signed my wages, I had to listen to it.

‘You’re going to have to mend your quarrel. You

know you are. He likes your sister—’

‘Big time.’

‘And she likes him, so I expect wedding bells will start to chime. Love and marriage, love and marriage, go together like a horse and carriage… OK, OK, no need to look so upset.’

‘You’re taking things a bit fast, aren’t you?’ I asked, my heart thudding. ‘They’ve only been going out for a couple of weeks.’

‘Yes, tsut she wants him, you’re telling me she’s making all the little girly moves.’ Gordon crinkled his eyes delightedly. ‘And if he’s keen on her … Tom Drummond doesn’t sound like a chap who mucks a girl about.’

My tummy lurched. That was true! I’d never

thought of that. If Tom acted serious, he was serious. ‘So. You can’t keep avoiding him.’

‘I can! I can keep avoiding him,’ I cried desperately. ‘I’ve managed to be out every time he’s come over so far, and out or in bed when he brings her back. He doesn’t want to see me anyway.’

‘But you want to see him. Not with Gail, I know, but there it is. You’re going to have to be brave,’ Gordon said soulfully. ‘If love has passed you by, at least you can behave with honour, with quiet dignity, like Josephine after Napoleon divorced her, or that girl in the Lord of the Rings, when Aragorn spurned her,

or—’

‘Oh, all right,’ I managed. ‘Maybe.’

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‘You can’t hide your head in the sand for ever,’ Gordon said.

I thought about that. He was right, but I didn’t want him to be. I had changed my mind about the ostrich: it seemed like a remarkably clever bird, with a neat way of confronting a crisis.

‘Put on your glad-rags and throw a dinner party!’ Gordon enthused.

‘Oh, get lost,’ I said, ‘you’ve got to be kidding.’

Throw a dinner party? What did he think I was? The sodding orchestra on the deck of the Titanic?

But Gordon had a point. I repaired my tear-smudged foundation, sold a couple of watercolours, and got out

,of the shop as early as I could. There was no point trying to make myself pretty, I was like a candle next to the sun of my beauteous sister. God, it had been bad enough growing up with Gail, listening to all the jokes, watching all the mothers crowd round the elfin little girl instead of the big clumping gnome that was me. If yoga ask me, the Ugly Sisters were more than fair to Cinderella. They only made her sweep the bloody cinders. They didn’t sue her for mental distress, or even mutilate her, I thought they were most restrained. I knew where they were coming from. My only comfort, growing up, had been that Gail

liked different men than I. I had my shopping list sense of humour, charm, poetic looks, Byronic dash ingness,
etc.
And Gail had hers - money.

Funny thing, that - Tom satisfied Gail’s list, but he scored a big fat zero on mine. I mean, OK, he had a great sense of humour. He was about as sensitive as a prison guard. And he wasn’t lean and curly haired, the slight, Byronic look I used to fancy. He was a

whopping great beast of a man.

But I wanted him.

I thought about it all the time. How it would be to

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go out with a bloke capable of carrying me across a threshold. To be folded up in arms with huge biceps attached to them. When Tom was fat, he was a teddy bear, and he’d been cute, if that’s your bag - like the bloke in Roseanne, you know the one. But now he was in shape, he was a grizzly bear. It was a whole different deal. It was sensuous.

Remember those lines in Julius Caesar? ‘Let me have men about me that are fat. Yon Cassius has a lean and hungry look; Such men are dangerous.’

Right on, Bill, now you’ve got me dredging up my O-level English, and that’s when you know it’s serious.

Oh, what the hell. Tom was going out with my stunning, amazingly annoying little sister. He wanted the kind of passive, wifely girl I could never be. What heartbreak, but there it was. Even as sad as I was, I knew I c6uld never change. It would be like asking a penguin to fly; I’m just not that sort of bird. Even though, agreed, my own career was a lesson in how not to do it, and my audience as an artist consisted of my mirror.

I missed two buses thinking about this, jumped on the third, and had a row with the conductor about the right change. So that took my mind off him for a good two minutes.

By the time I was trudging up Elgin Avenue, I’d come to a reluctant decision. I had to face this situation. Otherwise Tom might think - might possibly think -might just maybe get an inkling that I actually fancied him.

I gritted my teeth. That would be worse than anything yet.

‘Hey, Gail,’ I shouted as I let myself in. I pasted a smile on my face like Happy the Dwarf. Was there a Happy? Well, I was going to be Merry, Cheerful, Detached,

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Happy, Joyous, Perky and Gay. Unless Gordon bag sied that last one.

It was clear from the buzz of the hairdryer that Tom the target was not yet in firing range. Also, Gail’s knickers were draped all over the sofas.

‘Hi, Alex, you’re early. Got anything on this evening?’ Gail asked. ‘Stupid question, you never go out, do you?’

‘I might go out,’ I said.

She laughed loudly. ‘Oh right, good one, yeah. Anyway, Tommy’s coming round to pick me up quite soon.’

‘Where are you going tonight?’

‘Out to a party at the French embassy, I think. Or is fit in the British Museum, and the embassy thing next week?’ Gail turned in front of our mirror, brushing out her gleaming gold hair. She wore a fishtail silver dress that clung to her minute curves, and some glittery eyeshadow and palest pink lipstick. She looked like a

mermaid. ‘He takes me to the most wonderful places.’ I grunted.

‘Tommy will be pleased you’re home, he always asks about you.’

‘(that do you mean?’

‘Oh, if you’ll be there when he arrives, or when we come back. Oh gosh,’ Gall put her manicured nails up to her lips, ‘maybe he doesn’t want to bump into you, Alex, maybe you should leave.’

‘He can bloody welllump it,’ I said furiously, wretched at the thought that that might be what he meant. ‘I live here!’

‘God!’ Gail pouted and threw her Mason Pearson across the room. ‘You’re so selfish, Alex, if you do anything to muck it up for Tom and me I’ll kill you.’

‘Do you really like him, then? You’ve only known him for a month or so,’ I said desperately.

‘Oh, you know - I think he’s the one;’ Gai.l said

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dramatically, ‘I really do. He’s a perfect gentleman and I love his house, and we fit so nicely, and anyway - I’m ready.’ She retrieved her hairbrush for a few extra

strokes. ‘Yes, I think it’s time.’

‘Time?’

‘Time to settle down. Marriage, children … Mum

always says that’s what really fulfils a woman.’ ‘But do you love Tom, though?’

‘Oh, masses, I love him loads,’ Gail said emphatically, ‘he’s my baby elephant.’

‘Your what?’

‘My ickle Babar, that’s what I call him, because he’s so strong, and he never forgets to call,’ Gail explained, drenching herself in Dune.

The doorbell rang, and I was grateful to hear it. The sound of the gates of hell clashing shut behind me would haCe been a welcome change from this conversation.

‘You get it, AI, I want to look busy,’ Gail squealed, running into her bedroom and slamming the door.

Reluctantly I got up and let Tom in. I couldn’t see what he was wearing, because of the two dozen pink roses he thrust in my face.

‘Gail,’ Tom said warmly.

I stepped aside. ‘Sorry, only me.’

Tom had on a dark, .charcoal-grey suit and black shoes. It picked out his eyes and his black lashes. He looked so muscular, so purely male. I had a hateful image of that barrel chest cradling my sister’s fragile body. Jealousy rocked through me; Iwould like to say

I fought it down but I didn’t, I blushed a rich crimson. ‘Alex, how are you?’ Tom asked gently. ‘I’m fine,’ I muttered.

‘And how’s work? You resigned from Hamilton Kane?’

‘Gail!’ I yelled frantically. ‘Gail, Tom’s here! Er89

yes. I’m working in a gallery down in Piccadilly. Younger’s?

‘Oh. Much more your speed,’ he said neutrally. There was a hideously awkward pause.

‘I’m - uh - I’m sorry for the misunderstanding at Carrefour. I had no idea,’ I said, and any redder and the blood vessels would have exploded of their own accord.

‘Don’t give it another thought, entirely my fault,’ Tom said, so fast and so smooth the words tumbled into each other.

I couldn’t take it, it was such a polite dismissal, exactly the kind he used to give to the drunk Yanks who had hit on him, when they apologised the next day. He was clearly as uncomfortable as I was. He hates being here with me, I thought, he just wants to get Gail and get out.

‘Tommy,’ Gail breathed, emerging from the bedroom. Her voice had gone up an octave. ‘Flowers for me, ooh, how sweet.’

‘Gall, you look wonderful,’ Tom said. ‘Like a fish.’ ‘A fish?’ she asked. ‘A mermaid,’ he said hurriedly, ‘and, um, Alex, you look marvellous too, sort of like …’

‘A whale. Ah-ha ha ha,’ Gail giggled. ‘Has Alex been boring you to death? Sorry, I was busy with my embroidery.’

She held up one of those awful round frames of a kitten playing with a ball of wool. Jesus.

‘It’s charming,’ Tom said, looking perplexed. ‘No, Alex was telling me about her new gallery. We’re looking for art for the office, perhaps I should drop by some time.’

‘It’s a very small gallery,’ I said, ‘it really wouldn’t suit you.’

‘And are you seeing someone?’ he asked awkwardly. God, this was horrible, I was hating every bloody second.

‘Don’t be silly. Alex! She lives like a nun,’ Gail

giggled.

.

My face flamed back up. ‘But I am,’ I said. ‘Seeing

someone.’

‘You never said,’ Gail accused. ‘Who?’

‘Gordon Farrell, he owns the gallery,’ I said trium phantly. Tom raised an eyebrow, but I ignored it.

There was no way I was going to let Tom Drummond

walk out on me all superior and forgiving. ‘He’s very successful and from an excellent family.’

‘Have you been going out long?’ Tom asked, his face working a little.

‘Mmm. Well. He’s been asking, but now I’ve said

yes,’ I lied, ‘so you won’t be catching me in all that often, because Gordon likes to take me to new openings and the theatre and that sort of thing.’

‘What sort of thing?’ Gail challenged, her smoky lids narrowing.

‘The cinema. Foreign films. Ones with subtitles,’ I

concluded, folding my arms for extra emphasis.

The phone rang, and I jumped on it.

‘Hello, is that 555 zz37? This is Mr Brines,’ said Bronwen’s boss.

‘Oh, hello, Gordon darling,’ I said brightly, ‘yes, I

was just talking about you, I hope I’m not too late for Manon des Sources. Maybe tomorrow. And thank you for the lovely roses, red ones are definitely my favourite.’

.’Hello? Hello?’ asked Mr Brines.

‘Oh, me too, darling. Goodbye,’ I said sweetly, and

hung up.

‘Oh well,’ Gail announced. She looked slightly miffed, one-nil to met ‘Don’t let us keep you, we don’t want to be late.’

‘Where are your roses?’ Tom asked.

‘In the office,’ I said, ‘Gordon always likes me to

have flowers on my desk. He says I’m far more beautiful than they could ever be. Anyway, have a good evening.’

Tom nodded at me and shepherded Gail out the

door.

I fled into my bedroom and collapsed.

Keisha arrived back with Bronwen in tow. Both of

them were deliciously excited: Clan the Man was

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making ‘move in with me’ noises. Keisha had met Jeremy, her current man, for a drink, and was still saying zip. So it sounded like both of them were on the move.

I thought about what it would mean if they moved out. Oh please, not yet, I couldn’t face drinking soya. milk and eating tofu burgers. Although with Tom in the frame, maybe I wouldn’t have to for long.

‘So how’s it going, girlfriend?’ Keisha asked me, when the ‘Clan is great’ stream of conversation had run its course. ‘I met Gail and Tom outside, she said you’re