Till We Meet Again (14 page)

Steven winced as he remembered how he’d put his foot in it right then by questioning her as to where she came from, why she’d chosen to work in Bristol, and where she lived. With hindsight, it would have been far better merely to have introduced himself, offered to get her some coffee and disappeared. Friends often teased him about being like a large over-enthusiastic puppy, and he certainly was that day, trying too hard to be liked, almost to the point of slobbering over her.

Beth made herself quite clear from that first day. ‘I appreciate your interest,’ she had said in a chilling tone, ‘but I’m a very private person. I’ll be happy to confer with you about clients’ cases or other legal matters, but nothing more personal.’

That, it transpired, was exactly how she operated. She was snooty and cold, never chatted to anyone in the office, appeared to have no sense of humour, and the only time he saw any animation in her was when they discussed a case. But her striking looks and elegant, often sexy clothes suggested there had to be another side to her, a side that was yearning to show itself.

It was only at the office Christmas party last year that he saw a glimpse of a warmer person beneath that tough shell. She had bought presents for each of the office girls, not the usual chocolates or a bottle, but carefully chosen personal gifts, all beautifully wrapped. She’d also brought in that morning a large tray of delicious canapés for the party. They were all home-made. For the first time in the three months she’d been with the firm, she unwound a little, and drank quite heavily. He thought he sensed in her a reluctance to go home too.

Four days later, when she came back to work with her arm in plaster, having fallen and broken it after leaving the party, Steven felt sure that she’d been alone for the whole of the holiday, and probably in pain too, with no one to call for help. His curiosity about her was heightened with sympathy then, and he began to study her more closely. She was an enigma, excellent at her job, totally committed, fair-minded and honest too. Whilst she gave nothing of herself away, she invited confidences from others. Steven often found himself telling her things he wouldn’t normally have divulged to anyone.

Snooty she might be, but she was no snob. She didn’t talk down to the people beneath her, in fact she seemed far more relaxed with the office cleaner and young thugs from housing estates than she was with her peers. She was also very patient and considerate with any new staff, taking the trouble to explain things carefully, which none of the other lawyers did.

It soon became clear to Steven that Beth’s snootiness was a carefully constructed act, designed to keep people like him, who wanted to know more about her, at bay. That made her even more intriguing.

Steven began to smile at the absurdity of studying another lawyer, when it was his client he should be thinking about. But then he was guilty of the same kind of absurdity in his private life too.

He portrayed himself as a happily married family man, but there was nothing happy about his home life any more. His wife, Anna, was a drunk, and his girls, Polly and Sophie, were suffering because of it. Night after night he’d go home to find Anna out cold, the house in a mess and the girls tearful and hungry.

Again and again he had pleaded with Anna to get help to stop drinking. She would promise him she would, but the next day she’d start again. He’d lost count of the times she’d gone out and stayed out all night. On Sunday nights it would be he who was washing and ironing the school uniforms for the morning, just as it was he who did the shopping, the cooking and the cleaning.

There was only one real solution to prevent her messing up the children’s lives any further. That was to give her an ultimatum, to stop drinking or he’d throw her out. But he hadn’t done that because he knew she would almost welcome being thrown out, so she could do just as she liked. She’d said often enough that she drank because she was bored with him and her dull life. If he had believed she really could look after herself, he would have been glad to rid himself of the responsibility and the constant bad scenes. But he knew she couldn’t, and he couldn’t bear the thought of the woman he once loved ending up being arrested for drunkenness, or begging in the streets.

He felt like a juggler, trying to keep all the balls in the air at once, trying to be mother and father to his girls, running the home, hiding Anna’s drinking from friends and family, and doing an exacting job too, all the while pretending he hadn’t a care in the world. It was the pressure of pretending, the lack of anyone to confide in which made him despair sometimes. At times he had fantasized about Anna being killed, run over, or her kidneys finally giving up, just so it would end. He had even thought of killing her himself in really dark moments.

‘That might make Beth sit up and take notice of you.’ He grinned at the preposterous idea. But it was true, committing a serious crime was one way to get yourself noticed, and taken care of. Maybe that was the reason Susan did it.

‘Well?’ Beth leaned her hands on his desk, looking down at him. ‘What did she say?’

Steven thought she looked stunning today. She was wearing a light grey trouser suit and a red polo-necked sweater with matching lipstick, her hair slicked back into a bun. He grinned impishly at her, amused that Susan had rattled Beth’s chains enough to make her come haring into his office, something she’d never done before. He still didn’t understand why this seemingly implacable woman could have retained such affection and concern for someone so different from herself.

‘Lots,’ he said, determined to wind her up a little more. ‘I discovered she would like to be a gardening Vanessa Redgrave, married to Marc Bolan if she could have her life all over again.’

‘Marc Bolan’s dead,’ Beth snapped.

‘So he is,’ Steven retorted. ‘I’ve got to get home now. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.’

‘Come and have a drink with me first,’ she suggested, a note of pleading in her voice.

He was so staggered by this U-turn from her usual standoffish manner with him that he felt himself blush. ‘That’s a very tempting offer,’ he said. ‘But Anna’s out and I’ve got to see to the kids.’

‘Let me come home with you then,’ she said. ‘I could cook us all a meal.’

Steven hardly knew what to say. Aside from being unable to imagine her cooking a meal for anyone, he hadn’t thought her capable of caring about anyone enough to be so desperate for news of them.

He’d have dearly liked to take her up on it, but Anna wasn’t really out. Polly, his eight-year-old, had rung him only a few minutes after he got back from the prison, saying Mummy was sick and in bed. That of course meant she was drunk yet again, and the house would doubtless be in a shocking state.

‘No, you c-c-can’t do that,’ he said, stammering because he hadn’t time to think up a plausible excuse. ‘I mean, I’m not prepared. Neither are the girls.’

Beth looked at him sharply. ‘Is everything all right at home?’ she asked. ‘Anna’s not ill or something?’

‘Er, no. She’s fine, just gone out for the day. The house will be a tip.’

‘Well, why don’t you go home, pick up the girls and bring them to my place?’

Steven felt that since she was offering the hand of friendship, to refuse it would look very odd.

‘God, you’re persistent.’ He half smiled. ‘Do you want to know about Susan that badly?’

‘Yes, I do.’ She put her hands on her hips and looked at him defiantly. ‘But it would be nice to meet your girls too. So go and get them. I could have a meal ready by the time you get back.’

‘Beth, they are six and eight.’ He sighed. ‘That isn’t your scene.’

She gave him a challenging look. ‘How do you know? Just because I haven’t any kids of my own doesn’t mean I’m a child-hater.’

The thought of having a meal cooked for him was greater than his fear that one of the girls might blab about Anna. ‘Okay, I give in. But don’t hold it against me if it turns out to be a disaster.’

‘It won’t be,’ she said. ‘I was a little girl once myself. I know what they like. Now, you know where my flat is in Park Row, don’t you? It’s number twelve.’

‘Please behave, girls,’ Steven said to his daughters as they drove down Whiteladies Road towards Beth’s flat. He adjusted the driving mirror so he could see them both in the back seat, and wished he’d got them to change out of their school uniforms.

Polly, the eight-year-old, was like him, fair, with blue eyes, and tall for her age. Her newly arrived big teeth looked too large and slightly crooked in her mouth and like him she always seemed untidy. Sophie was more like Anna, with dark brown hair and eyes and plump, apple-like cheeks.

‘Of course we’ll behave, Daddy,’ Polly assured him. ‘But I hope she won’t give us some weird food.’

‘Whatever she cooks for you, eat it,’ he said, getting anxious now, for Polly’s idea of weird included most meats, salad, anything spicy or with herbs. ‘And while Beth and I are talking you must leave us in peace.’

‘Will we be able to watch telly?’ Sophie asked.

‘I expect so,’ he said, wishing he’d had the foresight to bring one of their videos with him. ‘And don’t say anything about Mummy being sick. She’s gone out with a friend if Beth asks about her.’

The girls were impressed by the way the front door of the flats opened automatically after Beth had spoken to them on the entryphone, but less so by their first view of Beth leaning over the banister as they went up the stairs.

‘She looks like Cruella De Vil,’ Polly whispered.

There was a delicious smell of garlic as they went into her flat, and the girls were struck dumb by the restrained elegance of the sitting room and the view of Bristol from the window.

After introductions, Beth smiled down at the girls. ‘I should have asked your daddy what you like to eat. But I’ve played safe and made cheesy omelettes and tomato salad, and I’ve fried some potatoes. I hope that’s going to be okay?’

Both girls looked relieved. Omelettes were one thing they’d eat anytime, anywhere.

Whatever Steven might have thought about Beth previously, she was surprisingly good with children. She chatted easily, showed them around her flat, and gave them a drink of apple juice while she dished up the meal. They ate in the cheerful red and white kitchen at a small round table by the window.

‘This is great,’ Polly said with real enthusiasm as she tucked in. ‘I love the potatoes.’

‘They are only boiled ones, fried up with some garlic,’ Beth said, pouring some wine for Steven and herself. ‘My sister does them for her girls and they liked them when they were your age.’

‘Mummy drinks too much of that,’ Sophie said, pointing to the wine.

Beth wouldn’t have thought anything of the childish remark but for Steven’s obvious embarrassment. He had blushed scarlet and his retort to Sophie, ‘What a ridiculous thing to say’, suggested the child was right. But Beth made no comment and told them she’d made chocolate Angel Delight for their pudding, because when she was little that had been her favourite.

‘I got you a video to watch too, while Daddy and I talk,’ she said as she put sundae glasses with the chocolate pudding in front of them. She’d squirted some cream on the top in a spiral and both girls grinned delightedly. ‘You’ve probably seen it already, it’s
Beauty and the Beast.
’

‘They’ve only seen it once at the pictures,’ Steven said. ‘They loved it too, they’ve been on at me to get the video.’

Steven was touched by the way Beth was with his girls, cool as she always was, but interested and surprisingly caring. It was amazing she’d thought to get a video for them, and the pudding served in such posh glasses proved she really hadn’t forgotten what it was like to be a small girl.

‘Why haven’t you got a husband?’ Sophie asked as she spooned out the last of her pudding.

Steven wanted to snap at her again, but Beth just laughed.

‘I kept looking for a prince,’ she said. ‘And none came along.’

‘I wouldn’t care about getting married if I could live somewhere nice like this,’ Polly said. ‘I’d have animals instead of children.’

‘That sounds quite a good idea,’ Beth agreed laughingly. ‘I’d like a dog, but it’s not fair to have one in a flat, especially when I’m out at work all day.’

‘So you like dogs?’ Steven said. ‘I would have imagined you with cats.’

Beth shook her head and winced. ‘No, they’re too superior for me. If I got a pet it would have to reward me with lots of slavering love.’

‘What’s slavering?’ Polly asked, scraping the last of the chocolate pudding from the glass.

‘Like this!’ Beth said, and leaned over towards her, licking her cheek and panting.

Polly giggled in delight. ‘Down, doggie, down,’ she said.

‘Can we watch
Beauty and the Beast
now?’ Sophie asked. ‘Or should we help you wash up?’

Beth smiled. ‘What a good girl,’ she said, patting Sophie’s hair. ‘No, you watch the video and Daddy and I will stay here and talk. Just call out if you need us.’

Steven put the video on for the girls and felt relieved to see them curl up on the settee together to watch it. As he went back into the kitchen Beth was putting some cheese and biscuits on the table. She poured him another glass of wine.

‘They’re lovely girls, a credit to you and Anna,’ she said. ‘Now, come on, tell me about Susan.’

As Steven explained everything which had passed between them, and his own thoughts on Susan, time and again he was distracted by the incongruity of fate. He’d spent the best part of a year trying to find out more about this woman, and suddenly here he was in her flat, his children in the next room, and he was just so comfortable. It was so long since he’d been waited on, his glass filled, a plate of cheese placed before him, the dirty dishes disappearing like magic into a dishwasher, that it brought it home to him even more poignantly just how bad his home life had become.

‘I can hardly credit she spent eighteen years looking after her mother.’ He sighed. ‘Talk about being buried alive! But time ran out all too quickly. Still, at least she wasn’t hesitant at talking, I think next time I’ll be able to get her to open up about Annabel’s father.’