Wishful Thinking (46 page)

‘He seemed awfully disappointed you weren't there,' Georgie said afterwards. ‘He kept asking about you, unobtrusively, trying to make it look like casual interest rather than real curiosity, but I wasn't deceived. Cookie . . .'

‘If it was curiosity,' I said, ‘it was the idle kind. He's got a very glamorous girlfriend. Helen Aucham.'

‘Oh, I know. Seen her with him. Isn't she a lawyer?'

‘Human rights.'

‘A lawyer is a lawyer,' Georgie said obstinately, ‘no matter what angle they use. They'll fight anyone's corner if the money's right. Besides, she looks like a bitch.'

I didn't comment.

Lin had decided not to go to Andy's wedding, it would be too painful, and apparently he hadn't called again, which, under the circumstances, was rather surprising, though she had had a couple of e-mails from him. When the grim day arrived Georgie and I joined her in taking the children out – the Planetarium, lunch, an afternoon film – an act of solidarity which, she said emotionally, she would never forget. Apart from saying things like: ‘It's eleven o'clock. They must be going up the aisle now,' and ‘He told me they're going to honeymoon on safari,' she bore up nobly.

‘Safari?' said Georgie. ‘Oh-ho. Presumably so Catriona can shoot herself a lion, on the grounds that they're vicious and deadly predators who will kill the cubs of rival males if they get the chance.'

‘
Will
they?' Lin was horrified.

‘She was a nice girl, though,' I said unwisely. ‘In her way.'

‘So was Eva Braun,' Georgie retorted.

Clare of the appendectomy returned, the blonde temp departed, and Cal started talking to me again, once in a while, and even to Lin, though he didn't venture more than common greetings with Georgie. But I thought I detected a note of yearning behind his backchat, and the sad look in his eyes seemed a little sadder, though it was hard to be sure because of the glasses. But he didn't make any moves and maybe he never would, choosing a safer, duller life. Love is always a high-risk option, especially for someone in his position.

And then, in November, two things happened. Firstly, I got a call from Catriona. I'd given her my number in the way you do, without ever expecting her to use it, so I was taken aback when she said her name and had to ask her to repeat it. She was in town for a few days – no, not with Andy, though she was staying in his flat – and could we meet? Just her and me and Georgie, like when we went shopping. She was so grateful to us, we had no idea, she'd never
enjoyed
shopping before . . .

We met in the coffee shop in Dickens and Jones. (We didn't tell Lin.) Catriona had retained much of her rock-chick style, though suitably toned down, a polo-neck sweater instead of a skimpy top, faux-sheep-skin jacket, boot-cut trousers. It was a minute or two before I noticed her left hand resting on the table. The emerald had gone and there was no wedding ring.

‘We called it off,' Catriona explained. ‘It was . . . sort of mutual, really. The thing is, he wanted me to still be the little girl he used to buy chocolates for. A bigger little girl, of course, but not changed, not sophisticated. And I wanted . . .' She stopped, fiddling with her napkin.

‘To leave home?' Georgie said, not without sympathy. ‘To be spoiled, and fussed over, and swept off your feet?'

‘I suppose so. It sounds rather cheap, doesn't it? But I honestly thought I was in love. Andy's so
kind
.' People were clearly unanimous on that. ‘He helped me get a job in Edinburgh, on a magazine, and he's paying my rent until I can get a bit more money. I didn't want him to, but he insisted. He even talked to Mummy and Daddy, tried to make them understand. They were frightfully keen on my marrying him.'

I'll bet, I thought.

‘Anyway, I'm down here with Morag, my new friend from work, shopping again.'

‘Andy's credit card?' I said with burgeoning suspicion.

‘Yes – isn't it sweet of him? He says it's to make up for my being jilted – but I said
I
jilted
him
. Anyway, I wanted to thank you both. If you hadn't helped me that day, I'd never have this great new image, and I might have married Andy and been really unhappy, trying to be someone I wasn't.'

‘Good luck,' Georgie said, evading my gaze. I seconded her.

When Catriona had gone she remarked bitterly: ‘He gives her his credit card when they're not even together any more! Why don't I meet men like that? A couple of the credit-card companies are getting really nasty, threatening legal action. I saw a lawyer last week. I could lose the house.'

‘Bugger.'

‘And it isn't as if I've been running up the debt any more lately. I don't seem to care about clothes the way I used to. It's just that the minimum payment's got so big, I can't always manage it.'

‘How
have
you been managing?'

‘I took out a bank loan. Against the house, you know? The Loans guy fancies me a bit, so . . .'

We lapsed into a silence heavy with financial gloom.

‘At least we've got some good news for Lin,' I said.

But when we called round for coffee on Sunday, she had other matters to think of.

(That was the second thing that happened.)

‘Is there anyone outside?' she demanded when she admitted us, peering into the street with unaccustomed paranoia.

‘No,' I said blankly.

And Georgie: ‘What's the problem?'

‘It's Sean.' Her voice had an unusual edge. ‘Bloody Sean. He paid a private detective to trace Ivor, and last night he got drunk and went round there and beat him up. He was arrested but they've released him, and now he's making statements to the press. I've had the
Express
and the
Sun
on the phone already.' I saw the receiver was off the hook in the living room. ‘He has to go and prove his stupid machismo! It wasn't as if anything happened to the twins. And now it'll be in the papers, the whole story, and they'll be pestering me and the children – it'll be worse than when Garry died.'

‘Good for Sean's image, though,' Georgie said pensively. ‘Beating up a paedophile will always be popular with the crowd. Revives his bad-boy aura while making him look like a hero at the same time.'

‘Don't I know it,' Lin said with rare cynicism. ‘This wasn't about punishment, or revenge, or anything like that. That was just the excuse. This was about
Sean
. He's always been selfish and thoughtless and – and
thick
. He didn't care about me and the children. He just wanted to act tough and look good. I could kill him.'

‘That really
would
get you in the papers,' Georgie said wryly.

‘We've just seen Catriona,' I interjected with an abrupt change of subject. ‘Andy called off the wedding.'

Lin stopped in mid-fume. Her expression jolted – and froze. ‘What?' she whispered.

‘Mutual incompatibility,' Georgie said. ‘He didn't like her new image. At least one of our best-laid schemes didn't gang aft agley.'

‘He didn't tell me,' Lin said. ‘He hasn't even called. I expect . . . he thinks it's none of my business.' But her expression didn't think so. Her expression said it was very much her business.

‘He must have had a lot to sort out,' I suggested, by way of palliative. ‘I'm sure he'll be in touch soon.'

‘What did she say? Did she tell you—'

But what Catriona might have told us was never established. The doorbell rang, and Lin reverted to panic mode. ‘It'll be Them,' she said with a distinct capital letter. ‘Don't answer!'

‘I'll deal with it,' Georgie said. While Lin fled into the kitchen, she went to the door, and I heard her sliding effortlessly into PR mode. ‘ . . . a nightmare experience . . . profoundly traumatic . . . need for privacy . . . your consideration much appreciated . . . no further distress for children . . . case
sub judice
 . . .' From the tenor of the response, it seemed to be working. But even though she closed the door without a fight, we knew the problem wouldn't go away. If the columnists found out how easily Ivor had invaded Lin's life, they'd be staking out the moral high ground within a week. She'd be pilloried . . .

As long as no one told them. But we'd reckoned without Sean. After years of being ignored, he was riding high on a wave of fresh publicity, gushing like an oil well in a succession of interviews. I doubt if he thought about the implications of what he was saying, when he explained how Lin had invited a man she barely knew to live in her home. He was just anxious to present himself as a conscientious father and supportive ex-husband – not an easy task in view of his record. But it was Lin who got the fallout. The pundits saw an issue, a chance to pontificate and condemn – and they pounced.

Chapter 13

There is no Chapter 13. It's like the thirteenth floor in skyscrapers, which gets left out. We were in enough trouble, without throwing in a Chapter 13.

Chapter 14

And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by

From this day to the ending of the world

But we in it shall be remembered –

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

For he today that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition:

And gentlemen in England now abed

Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,

And hold their manhoods cheap while any speaks

That fought with us upon St. Crispin's Day.

SHAKESPEARE:
Henry V

Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party.

TYPING EXERCISE

Lin had never liked the publicity attendant on her marriage to Sean and subsequent relationship with Garry, but at least it had rarely been critical of her personally. What followed Sean's statement to the press was something else. The imminent court case offered some protection, more theoretical than actual, and the tabloids had the decency to leave Meredith alone, but once they learned that, on the strength of a few weeks' romance by e-mail, Lin had invited a paedophile into her home, there were plenty of voices ready to swell the chorus of condemnation. At best they called her a fool; at worst, criminally irresponsible, a bad mother who shouldn't be allowed to keep custody of her children. One or two suggested Sean should be their guardian, but when questioned on the subject he backtracked hastily, having no wish to be saddled full-time with a brace of pre-teenage boys. He rang Lin to make a grudging apology for the mud he'd stirred up, while Garry Grimes' mother emerged from seclusion to rake up old grievances against her late son's girlfriend, thus keeping the story going with fresh ‘revelations'. Lin took to disconnecting the phone whenever she was at home, and once again Georgie and I were there as much as possible, fighting off any hacks who tried to doorstep the place.

At Ransome, the entire company did everything possible to protect her. A Blitz mentality developed, and inevitably barriers came down. One evening in the pub Georgie was waylaid by a persistent journo who had heard she was close to Lin. With a brief apology to her neighbour, she helped herself to his pint – G&T being too small for her needs – and emptied it over her would-be interrogator. The journalist retired, his enthusiasm somewhat damped, those in the vicinity applauded, and Cal, who had been watching, stepped in when she offered to replace the beer.

I noticed he had forgotten to be aloof and was chatting to her with animation and the old familiar glow in his eyes. We left early to return to Lin, and Cal kissed her on the cheek by way of goodbye. I felt hopeful, but Georgie was curiously down.

‘He doesn't want to love me,' she said. ‘He thinks there's no future in it. But there's no such place as the future. It's always in front of you, always receding, and you never get there, and then one day you're dead. There's only the present. That's where we live. You can't live in the future. You can't plan for anything. You can only take what comes.'

‘Don't you think he might see it that way too?' I said.

‘How can he? I was the one who complained, because I wanted a future for us. It's my fault.'

I wasn't sure what to say to this, and did my best to make the right kind of noises, but Georgie wasn't listening.

‘Everything's my fault,' she continued sombrely. ‘It all started with those three wishes. We were doing fine till then. But I had to go around trying to make wishes come true, and now we're up to our ears in shit. If I hadn't gone looking for a cardiac millionaire I'd probably still be with Cal. If I hadn't told Lin she could find her One True Love on the Internet she'd never have met Ivor. At least you came out of it okay, but—'

‘As long as I don't try to be a sex goddess,' I said firmly. I'd consigned the flame-red dress to the back of my wardrobe and resolved never to wear it again. (Well, not for ages, anyway.) ‘I'm glad I've lost weight and I dress better, but that's all. Looking sexy doesn't suit me.'

‘Nonsense,' said Georgie, diverted from her private abyss of self-blame. ‘You can look sexy without having to go the whole hog. There are degrees of sexiness. Mostly, it's down to how you feel. If you
feel
sexy, even though you're covered from neck to ankle you can exude a sort of aura.'

‘I don't want to exude anything. It makes me sound like a bad case of environmental pollution.'

‘I think you should have a new dress for Jerry Beauman's party . . .'