Acquired Tastes (3 page)

Since then she had been in full retreat from the world, affecting shapeless clothes like the calf-length peasant-style dress she wore today. She kept her light brown hair long, so that any movement of her head caused it to fall in a veil across her face. It was useful when she wanted to hide her face and gather her thoughts before speaking. Now, having thought, she tucked her hair behind her ear and looked up at Vanessa.

'I'd like you to meet Fergus sometime, I'm sure you'd like him. He's at work on a radical new examination of the meaning of sexual fantasies. He says it will revolutionise thinking about human sexuality.' She lowered her already soft voice. 'Confidentially, Fergus is considering turning his paper into a book. It's already been turned down by the reactionary old academics who edit most of the big psychology journals, but he thinks it's about time he went public, so to speak. If the book is a best-seller, the university hierarchy will be made to look very silly.'

'Sexual fantasies?' Suddenly alert, Vanessa stopped admiring herself in the mirrored restaurant walls and fixed her gaze on Alicia. 'What kind of fantasies?'

'I really couldn't describe them over the dinner table. Some of them are, well, really very odd.' Alicia's voice was so low, Vanessa was forced to lean across the table to hear her. 'I really can't understand how people can think some of the things they do, but Fergus says we are socialised into being ashamed of our perfectly natural desires, and that we should be able to bring them out into the open and enact them if possible. He says we would all be much healthier if we did, and that many so-called illnesses are just cases of sexual frustration. He intends to call the book
Terminal Diagnosis
-
A Report on the Nation's Sexual Health.'
Alicia's voice had sunk to a whisper.

Vanessa leaned back in her seat and stared into the distance. Either this man was trying the most complicated come-on with Alicia she had ever heard of, or …

She snapped her fingers at a passing waiter. 'Pen,' she demanded crisply, and when it arrived, began scribbling on her napkin.

Assuming she had once again lost her friend's attention, Alicia was just about to change the subject when Vanessa looked up. 'I'd like to meet this Angus person of yours sometime, maybe read a copy of his research too.'

Alicia was about to point out that his name was Fergus, but before she could say anything, Vanessa looked at her watch and groaned.

'Oh god, late again. Look, I've got to get my skates on. I've got an ideas meeting with PP and the rest of the team.' Vanessa picked up the bill and slapped down some large notes. 'My treat this time. Put it on expenses.'

She ushered Alicia, who was still struggling to find her purse, through the restaurant and out on to the pavement.

'Call you soon, lovely to see you.' Vanessa kissed the air beside Alicia's cheeks while hailing a taxi.

Left alone, Alicia stood bewildered for a moment, dazzled by the bright sunshine and the noise of traffic on the Old Brompton Road. Then she thought of the cool quiet of the British Museum Reading Room, and tightly clutching her bulging briefcase, headed for the Underground.

'Beautiful day, isn't it darling?'

Dark eyes flashed at Vanessa in the driving mirror. A pudgy forefinger casually guided the steering wheel, beefy forearm resting on the open window. As the taxi shuddered to a halt in the traffic yet again, the taxi driver leaned back in his seat and half turned his head.

Vanessa glimpsed a Mediterranean profile.

'Had a good lunch? That place is a bit too expensive for my tastes, but I bet a good-looking woman like you doesn't pick up the tab too often.'

The voice was pure Balls Pond Road.

Vanessa toyed briefly with the idea of deflating his over-active libido, but she had far too much on her mind. She leaned forward and snapped the glass partition firmly shut.

As she did, the large cluster of diamonds on her right hand glittered as it caught the light. The ring had been a little reward to herself for divorcing Jeremy. It was about the only worthwhile thing she had got out of her relationship with him, and even then she had bought it herself. It was the story of her life.

Why Alicia always had to ask about Jeremy when they met, she did not know, although she suspected Alicia might once have had a crush on him. On the occasions that they met, whenever Jeremy spoke to her, Alicia had blushed and stammered even more than usual - if that was possible.

She should have known she was making a mistake with Jeremy right from the start, Vanessa mused. After all, they had met at a cricket match and she thought sport in any form was pointless, and cricket was the most pointless sport of all.

If she remembered rightly, she had only gone to the cricket match nearly eight years ago because her then boyfriend, Gavin, had been captain of the host team, and as his father was rumoured to be mega-rich, she was prepared to tolerate almost anything, even cricket. Gavin had coyly suggested that it was traditional for the wife of the captain to provide tea for all the players which seemed like a pretty big hint, so she enlisted Alicia to help. Alicia had toiled for days making pork pies and quiches, several trays of iced fairy cakes, four Victoria sponges, and gallons of lemonade made from fresh lemons. On the day she had also buttered enough bread to make a mountain of brown and white bread sandwiches with assorted fillings.

Since nobody actually
asked
her whether she had made the tea, Vanessa saw no reason to mention Alicia washing up in the tiny, lean-to kitchen behind the pavilion. She merely tied a frilly apron around her middle and stood behind the table in the pavilion smiling graciously as everyone 'oohed' and 'aahed' at the sumptuous spread. Gavin was pink-faced with pride, and went on and on about her being 'absolutely spiffing' and 'a jolly good sport' then whispered that he hoped she might consider wearing her apron when they got back to his place -
just
your apron, he emphasised.

Tea over, Vanessa steeled herself to sit through yet more, tedious cricket. Wrapping herself up in Gavin’s very expensive cashmere sweater - she was wearing a fetching slip of a cotton dress and it was freezing despite being May - she ventured outside again. She was just in time to see a tall, dark-haired man with satisfyingly broad shoulders and a determined look on his handsome face, thundering down the field. His arm had shot up and then his back had arched rather fetchingly as he leapt into the air and bowled a blistering delivery that scattered the stumps of the opposing batsman, stopping him reaching his threatened half century.

The small crowd of spectators had risen cheering to its feet and Vanessa joined in, even if her appreciation was more for the perfection of the bowler's buttocks than his delivery. It was only then that she noticed that the batsman who had been bowled out was Gavin.

Gavin trailed dejectedly back to the pavilion, but if he hoped for any solace from Vanessa it was not forthcoming. She had made allowances for his shortness of stature, but why she had not noticed before that he had such a round, nondescript face with a weak chin which was already reproducing itself, and that his wispy, pale brown hair was already receding at an alarming rate, she could not understand. She barely acknowledged him before pushing her way through the crowd of admirers around Jeremy to introduce herself.

Jeremy was engaged to a pretty blonde called Chloe whose titled parents owned a large pile in the country whose upkeep they could not afford, but which they hung onto, living in the unheated servants' wing, for the sake of the family. Chloe was used to making do and had spent two years designing and making peach and dove grey antique lace-trimmed outfits, based on a Gainsborough painting, for her six bridesmaids and four page boys. But Chloe - despite being an 'Honourable' - had not stood a chance against Vanessa. Two months after the cricket match, Vanessa and Jeremy plighted their troth in the very marquee that should have witnessed the sit-down lunch for two hundred, with dove grey table linen and peach rose floral displays lovingly planned by Chloe.

Jeremy had felt guilty about using the same marquee, but Vanessa pointed that if it hadn't been for Chloe's last minute cancellation, how else could they have got a marquee in June and anyway, he had said her parents were bankrupting themselves to pay for their daughter's wedding so now they would be able to feed their six golden Labradors as well as themselves.

But while Vanessa at first congratulated herself on seizing Jeremy from the Hon Chloe's fragrant clutches, she soon began to rue her precipitate action in marrying him. To her disgust, Jeremy's killer instinct on the cricket pitch did not extend to the money markets where he worked. While all around him in the City were getting rich in the get-rich-quick Eighties, he was content to remain in a back-water division of the merchant bank in which several generations of male Swifts had served, safe in the knowledge that a directorship awaited them no matter what their skills, or indeed, their lack of them.

Jeremy proved immune to Vanessa's relentless urging to make more money. For some reason that was beyond her, he claimed to be perfectly happy. When she brought the subject up, he would wait for her to finish and then smile that silly, lopsided smile of his, ruffle her hair or kiss her on the end of the nose and say something irritating like 'as long as I have you Vee, I'm the richest man in the world'. It drove her mad.

Forced to accept that Jeremy was not, and never would be, a financial firebrand, Vanessa had decided that her only hope was Jeremy's father. Before their wedding, she had checked on Swift senior's financial standing, which, although not quite in Gavin's father's league, was not inconsiderable. He was also a lot older than Jeremy's mother, and at the time of their wedding had appeared to be close to his demise having to be pushed around in a wheelchair. But he proved tougher than he looked. Vanessa had been forced to wait a further three years before Swift senior met his fate at the age of eighty-three, falling off his horse in pursuit of hunt saboteurs while riding to hounds.

Vanessa had entertained high hopes for the will reading, but they were cruelly dashed. Jeremy's father left the bulk of his fortune in tax and tamper proof trusts to his grandchildren. The income from the trusts was bequeathed to Jeremy and his older brother James, on the proviso that they, too, produced sons or, failing that, a reduced proportion on the production of daughters.

As Jeremy's older brother James, and his redoubtable wife Lucinda, had already produced four boys, it looked as if they would be the principle beneficiaries.

Jeremy's suggestion that, in the circumstances, they, too, might now consider having children - a long but secretly held ambition on his part - had not met with quite the reception he would have wished.

'Children
, what on earth led you to think I might want children?' demanded Vanessa.

'Well, you know - the patter of tiny feet and all that, don't all women want children? We could easily move to the country to make room for a litter,' Jeremy said brightly.

Vanessa's lip curled. 'If you wanted a good breeder you should have married someone like your brother's wife. I mean,
four
children in six years, frankly, I think that's obscene. Have you taken a good look at Lucinda lately? Her boobs will reach her knees if she doesn't stop breast-feeding soon.'

Jeremy looked pained. 'That's a bit strong Vanessa. I mean, fair's fair, Lucinda is a jolly good mother. Those four boys take a lot of looking after.'

'That's exactly it. Who has to walk around looking like a beached whale for nine months? The woman. Who has to clear up all the mess and the puke? The woman. Who has to …'

'All right, all right,' Jeremy interrupted, 'I see your point, but I assumed you would have someone to help. I'm still in touch with old Nanny Greig. As a matter of fact, it's her birthday next week, and I thought I might pop over with some chocolates or something. I could float the idea by her then.'

Vanessa's voice was heavy with sarcasm. 'Wonderful. I do
so
love your bright ideas, Jeremy. Not only do you want me to ruin my figure bearing assorted little Swifts, but you also want me to turn my house into a geriatric home for senile nannies. Sometimes you astound me.'

Vanessa had received the impression that he and his brother James had been largely raised by their beloved Nanny Greig, and Jeremy, who was the baby of the family, had been particularly attached to her. When he spoke of her it was in reverent tones.

Now she waited for him to get angry and for a moment she thought she had succeeded. The colour drained from Jeremy's face and his jaw moved in an agitated way. But he simply stood up and walked over to the window where he stood with his back to her.

After a moment he spoke. His voice shook with suppressed emotion. 'Vanessa, there are times when I think my mother was right. She said you would never understand the duties of being a wife, and although I'm prepared to put up with a lot, insulting Nanny Greig is going too far.'

Vanessa leapt to her feet. She was fed up. Everything about Jeremy was suppressed. Before their marriage she had succeeded in getting him to forget his inhibitions and indulge in some wild sex, but only by plying him with large amounts of booze and dressing up in fish-net stockings and high-heeled boots. However, once they had got married, everything had changed. She no longer seemed to be able to provoke him, not even into a good argument.

She went to the door. 'Frankly Jeremy, I couldn't give a damn for your mother, your nanny or anyone else connected with the great Swift family. Please read my lips: I do not now, nor will I ever, want children,' and with that, she slammed the door behind her.

Jeremy had never been the same again. The marriage lasted another three years before Vanessa threw him out, and during the final year, communication between them had shrunken to words of one syllable and the occasional lawyer's letter, which was why she could not understand the reason for Jeremy calling last night and begging to see her.