A Question of Love (21 page)

‘It’s precisely because we are together again that I
can’t.
I feel far more possessive about you than if we’d only just met. So I
can’t
bear the thought of it, no. And the point is, it’s not even ordinary stuff. I could cope with the odd pair of trainers, or an old sweatshirt—but she’s left
sexy
stuff here as a form of provocation.’

‘That’s almost certainly true,’ he conceded. ‘She’s very combative.’

‘Why the hell do I have to look at her slinky dresses hanging next to your jackets, or see her lacy underwear and thongs in your drawers?’ I tugged open the medicine cabinet. ‘And I
don’t
want to see her packet of Tampax when I’m getting out the toothpaste. When you come to my flat, Luke, what do you see of Nick’s? Nothing,’ I answered for him. ‘Not a
thing.
You don’t see his shaving foam in the bathroom. You don’t see his Y-fronts when you open a drawer. Imagine how
you’d
feel if the tables were turned.’

‘I’d hate it—but that’s a completely different situation.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘It is. My ex has left, but he’s vanished—so he doesn’t bother you at all. Magda’s at the other extreme. She’s left you but she remains omnipresent.’

‘That may be true, but she’s in my life. And she always
will
be because she’s the mother of my child, and that’s what you must
understand
. My relationship with Magda has to be a cordial one, Laura—even a good one—because I can’t afford to antagonise her—especially while Jessica’s so young.’

‘You’re in her power,’ I said as he climbed into bed.

‘I suppose I am,’ he replied quietly. ‘Like many separated fathers. But I won’t do anything which might lead to my seeing less of Jessica.’

‘That’s fair enough but there are limits, Luke. So if you don’t feel you can return Magda’s things, would you at least put them away so that I don’t have to look at them every time I come round?’

‘Oh, I’ve had enough aggro for one night.’ We were irritating each other, I realized. The honeymoon was over. He pulled the duvet over his head. ‘
You
do it,’ he said. ‘If you really feel you must.’

‘Okay then,’ I said quietly. ‘I
will.’

I went downstairs and got two carrier bags from the kitchen. Into them I neatly put Magda’s clothes, her shoes and her underwear, then, with a small but significant sense of triumph, I pushed them under the bed. Then I removed her things from the medicine cabinet and put them in a bag in the bathroom stool.

Now, for the first time, I put away the few things that I wanted to leave in Luke’s house—a beautiful pale blue silk kimono that Hope had brought back for me from Tokyo; a green cashmere cardigan and a pair of jeans; some underwear, a t-shirt and a small toilet bag. In the medicine cabinet I put a pot of moisturiser, my hair-straightening mousse and a few bits of make-up.

Feeling better now, I got into bed.

‘Don’t let’s fall out, Laura,’ Luke murmured. I felt his arm slide around my waist. ‘That’s precisely what Magda wants —to drive a wedge between us.’ I vowed not to let her. ‘I love you, Laura,’ he whispered. ‘I’m so glad I’ve found you again.’ I felt my indignation subside. ‘I’m sorry I had to abandon you tonight.’ I felt his chin on my shoulder, the stubble scraping my skin. ‘Did you have a nice evening with Hope?’ I thought of her marital problems, and of Felicity’s, and of how complicated all our relationships were now proving to be.

‘I had a lovely evening,’ I lied.

I wanted to tell Hope that I’d seen Hugh with Chantal, but she wouldn’t speak to me. I phoned her three times the next morning but her P.A. said she was busy. I could tell from her artificially bright tone it wasn’t true. Being the youngest, Hope has always expected to get what she asks for, and, when she doesn’t, she sulks. But I felt sorry for her because she’d exposed her vulnerability, without getting what she’d wanted. So I sent her a friendly text message with the numbers for three private detectives. Then I wondered what to do about Fliss…

I could casually let Hugh know that I’d spotted him with Chantal, but that would only make them more careful next time. I
could
ring up Chantal herself…No. I couldn’t possibly. I shuddered. It would be awful. Downright
primitive
…So I decided I’d just go and see Fliss. She’s so open—she should have been named Candida, I often think—that I’d be able to tell whether or not she already suspected. So I rang to say I’d pop round after work to drop off an Easter present for Olivia.

‘That would be…lovely,’ she said. She sounded distracted. ‘Yes, yes, that would be…great. Erm, come round at about…ooh…I dunno…five, I suppose.’

‘Are you okay Fliss?’

‘Well—no. Actually, I’m not. In fact, I’m
worried
about something.’

‘What’s that?’ I asked innocently. I heard a sharp intake of breath. She knew. She knew about Hugh and Chantal.

‘Because Olivia’s got her first casting after lunch. It’s for the Tiddli-Toes Baby Bouncer and we’re really,
really
nervous—so please just keep everything crossed.’

So after we’d recorded the show I got the driver to drop me in Moorhouse Road. I climbed the steps to the front door, then rang the bell, clutching the musical rabbit I’d bought for Olivia. I was so nervous I squeezed it too hard and it began to play a lullaby. The door was flung open. Fliss was standing there, clutching Olivia, smiling dementedly.

‘We’ve got the
job
!
‘
she declared as she ushered me inside. ‘Olivia’s agent has just called. Isn’t it
fabulous
?’

‘Er, yes,’ I said as I squeezed past the pram.

‘All she had to do was twang up and down a few times, beaming for the camera! Bingo! That’ll be seven hundred and fifty quid! The photographer said she was the prettiest baby girl he’d
ever
seen. Didn’themylickledarling?’ Olivia clapped her podgy little hands. ‘Thassrightmysweetiepops! Give yourself a
big
hand! You’reavewy
clever
babygirlaren’t-you?!’ she squeaked as she wiped infant dribble off Olivia’s chin with the hem of her t-shirt. ‘We’ve got another audition tomorrow,’ she added, as we went down to the kitchen. ‘Coochisoft non-bio fabric conditioner. All she has to do is sit on a fluffy towel looking adorable—
not
exactly difficult in her case—and if we get it, that’ll be twelve hundred. Then she’s got two TV castings at the end of next week. There are some babies who don’t get out of their cots for less than five grand. I’m convinced Olivia’s going to be one of them,’ Felicity continued as she plonked Olivia in her playpen. She looked like a tiny jailbird as she stared out balefully through the bars.

‘Give her a chance, Fliss, she’s only just started.’

‘I know. But she’s
so
beautiful that she’s bound to hit the baby Bigtime isn’t she? Plus she has loads of
character,
which is what they’re really looking for.’ Olivia gave us a vacant stare. ‘Some of the other mothers were
so
irritating though,’ she snorted as she filled the kettle. ‘They could have bored for England about their little darlings. Talk about proud parents.’

‘Really?’ I glanced at the framed enlargement of Olivia’s thirteen-week scan. ‘That must have been annoying for you.’

‘Oh, they can’t help it,’ Fliss said indulgently. ‘They don’t even realize they’re doing it.
Zero
self-awareness.’

‘Uh huh.’ By now Olivia was ripping the tissue paper off my gift and trying to stuff it in her mouth.

‘That’s a
sweet
rabbit isn’titdarlingit’salovelylicklebunny-wabbit! Thanks, Laura.’ Felicity looked at me over her shoulder, and saw that there was a slick of regurgitated baby rice on it. ‘Blast.’ She dabbed at it with a sponge. ‘That’s always happening. Lapsang or Kenyan?’

‘I’ll have Lapsang—but I can’t stay long. Er…where’s Hugh?’

Fliss peered into the garden. ‘In his bloody shed. He’s spending inordinate amounts of time in there at the moment. Says he’s got some brilliant idea.’

‘What is it?’

‘He won’t tell me. Claims I’m not sufficiently supportive. But I imagine it’ll be about as useful as a laundrette in a nudist colony. You know, Laura, I seriously think Hugh’s going to end up being financially supported by his six-month-old daughter!’

‘Felicity,’ I said. I felt myself shifting from foot to foot. ‘Look Fliss…’

‘Yes?’

‘Um…’ I stared at her. ‘Well…’

‘What’s the matter, Laura?’ She peered at me. ‘You look like the dog’s just died.’ Her smile suddenly vanished. ‘Christ, has something awful happened?’

‘No. I don’t think so. At least—not yet.’ I could hear the water begin to boil.

‘What do you mean? Not yet?’ Steam was misting the kitchen window. ‘What
is
it Laura? Would you please stop being mysterious.’

‘Well…I think you should…spend more time with Hugh, that’s all.’

She shrugged. ‘I see him every day.’

‘But you don’t go
out
with him. You don’t do nice
things
with him.’

‘We can’t,’ she said as she got down the teapot. ‘We don’t have a babysitter.’

‘But you could easily get one. Through an agency.’

She looked horrified. ‘Absolutely not! I refuse to leave Olivia with anyone I don’t know!’

‘Then
I’ll
baby-sit for you. I wouldn’t mind. In fact I’d love to.’

‘Would you?’

‘I don’t know why you haven’t asked me before.’

‘Well,’ she said as she put in two teabags, ‘because Hugh and I never go out at the same time so it hasn’t been necessary.’

‘Exactly. Big mistake. But now she’s over six months, I think you should. In fact I think that you ought to, maybe, go away together some time.’

‘We are. We’re going down to Hugh’s parents tomorrow for Easter.’

‘I mean, go away together—on your
own
. Why don’t you stay in a nice little hotel somewhere? Maybe for your fortieth?’

‘That’s not ‘till July—and anyway, we’re skint. As you know, Hugh’s income is zero, and my maternity pay’s about to end. The Notting Hill Workhouse awaits us,’ she added matter-of-factly. ‘I just hope it’s comfortable. I hear Stella McCartney designed the bedspreads.’

‘Look, Fliss, a weekend away wouldn’t cost
that
much. In fact I could give it to you, as an early birthday present.’

‘Really?’ She got down two mugs, both of them adorned with photos of Olivia. ‘Well, that would be wonderful—and very generous of you.’ She looked at me, uncomprehendingly. ‘But why are you being so adamant about it, if you don’t mind my asking?’

‘Because I just…think it would be a good thing to do. A very good thing actually.’

She opened the biscuit tin. ‘But
why
?’ She peered at me. ‘What are you
driving at
, Laura?’

‘Oh…nothing.’ I sat down at the table.

‘I
know
you. There’s something on your mind. Isn’t there? Something you’re not telling me.’ The water was boiling loudly now.

‘Well…okay, yes, there is—and it’s that I simply think you’re…neglecting Hugh. I’ve said it before, Fliss. You’re so obsessed with Olivia that you’ve ignored him and that could have…consequences. Serious ones, quite possibly.’

Felicity had narrowed her eyes. ‘What’s going
on
here?’ She tipped the scalding water into the teapot. ‘What are you
gettin
g at, Laura?’ The tarry scent of Lapsang filled the air. ‘C’mon. Tell me, will you?’

‘I think…you might be storing up problems, that’s all.’

‘
What
problems?’ She gave me a challenging stare. ‘You’re talking in riddles—would you
please
be direct?’

‘All right, then.’ I took a deep breath, as though about to dive underwater. ‘I saw Hugh,’ I said. ‘Last night. In Julie’s.’ She gazed at me as I told her, calmly and quietly, what had taken place. There was a stunned silence as she took it in.

‘Hugh and Chantal?’ Felicity repeated quietly. ‘Are you saying that Hugh and Chantal…?’

‘I’m not saying anything,’ I interjected. ‘I just think you should be…aware, that’s all.’ Felicity sank on to a chair, while Olivia peered at her through the bars of her playpen, making little clicking noises.

‘Are you seriously suggesting that Hugh—and
Chantal…
?’ Felicity looked at me.

‘Well. Yes, Fliss. I suppose I am. She was all over him like chicken pox, put it that way.’

Fliss was looking at me dumbfounded. Then she shook her head in disbelief. Now she was looking quite stricken, and I saw I’d made a terrible mistake. Like Hope, Fliss couldn’t handle the truth. By now her face had gone red, her mouth was twisted and, oh God, she had started to cry. She leaned forward, convulsed with distress. I heard a high-pitched whine, an odd little gulp, then she threw back her head.

‘That’s the
funniest
thing I’ve heard all week!’ She made a loud, honking noise, which startled Olivia.

‘It
isn’t
funny.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she snorted. ‘But it is.’ Her shoulders were shaking.

‘Look. I
saw
her flirting with Hugh.’

‘There’s no way Chantal would do that,’ she insisted. She poured two cups of tea.

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I’ve known her for twenty-one years. And I can tell you that she’s not…well…
like
that.’

‘Then what were they doing having a drink?’

She shrugged. ‘Why shouldn’t they? He’s her friend too. Anyway, Hugh
told
me he was meeting her.’

‘But why did he want to, without you being there?’

She sliced the end off a lemon. ‘Because I’ve got Olivia to look after, haven’t I?’

‘Then couldn’t they have met up here?’

‘Julie’s is on Chantal’s way home—it was more convenient. Plus Hugh wanted her advice.’ I looked at Fliss. ‘That’s the main reason, actually.’

‘What sort of advice?’

‘Professional advice—about this thing he’s working on, whatever it is, which he refuses to tell me—so I don’t think he
wanted
me there.’