Agent Provocateur (36 page)

‘Absolutely not.’ Even if he knows that he shouldn’t go, he cannot help himself. He needs to see her.

‘Good. You’re still OK to pick me up?’

‘I’ll be there at ten. Grace?’

‘Yes?’

‘I wondered if we should grab an early supper before heading home?’

‘That would be lovely.’

‘What’s up, Betts? We’ve just finished a great story.’

It is time for Betty to make Fiona realise what she’s done.

‘I am so glad, seeing as it’s going to cost me my marriage.’

‘Don’t be so dramatic. Only the other day you said it was all fine.’ Fiona feels herself heat up at Betty’s words. She is beginning to realise that she perhaps shouldn’t have done what she did.

‘I try to believe that, but when I know that she is trying to seduce my husband and I have no idea how she is doing it, what methods, when she sees him, it’s driving me a bit crazy.’

‘Betty, darling, you trust Johnny.’ Fiona speaks to Betty as if she were addressing a child. Not that she knows much about children.

Betty paces her office. ‘I do, but I don’t trust her. Would you?’

‘I don’t have a husband.’

‘That’s not the point. The point is that the other night I put on a negligée before he came home and I did unspeakable things to him on the kitchen floor.’

‘Great idea for a feature. What exactly did you do?’ Fiona realises that she just can’t help herself as she mentally tells herself to shut up.

‘Fiona, please, let me continue.’

‘Sorry.’ Fiona rarely apologises but she is beginning to realise just how serious it is.

‘And then, Rich took me shopping.’

‘Oh dear!’

‘What do you mean “oh dear”?’

‘Well, the last time he took me shopping I ended up buying this really silly tent thing which was meant for meditation and tantric sex. I’ve never had tantric sex.’

‘Yeah, well, I got chocolate body paint, edible undies, handcuffs and lesbian porn.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yes, oh. Don’t you see what I’ve been reduced to? A couple of nights ago I went out and he was two hours late and I got so drunk worrying. I’m falling apart.’

‘Um. I think you’re doing the right thing.’

‘What?’

‘Well, spice up your sex life. Have your hair done – have you done that?’

‘Does it look like it?’

‘Not really.’

‘That’s because I haven’t. But you know what I have done? I’ve had everything waxed. I even had a Brazilian. I’ve got this tiny tuft of pubic hair left, and it was bloody agony. I also had a facial, a manicure, a pedicure, it is costing me a fucking fortune.’

‘But it’s worth it. Did you consider colonic? I can get you a special deal.’

‘Fiona!’

‘Sorry, wasn’t thinking; what I meant to say was, if you need anything, you know where I am.’ She wonders if now would be a good time for her to hide under her desk.

‘That’s why I’m here now.’

‘Oh. Why exactly?’

‘Because you encouraged me to do this so I thought it only fair that I rant at you.’

Fiona looks relieved that that is all it is. She is worried that she might have been rumbled.

‘Quite right too. Well, I think you are proving yourself to be very resilient. And if you want to borrow my tantric tent, I’ve never used it and would be quite prepared to give it to you.’

Betty glares at Fiona, who looks a bit scared, a little confused and slightly manic. Then she laughs.

Fiona breathes a huge sigh of relief and laughs too. ‘Remember, she will not win. He is yours.’

‘You’re right. Thanks, Fiona. You’ve been really helpful.’

‘Any time,’ Fiona replies, without a clue about what she actually did.

Betty marches back to her desk, feeling refuelled.

‘Hannah?’

‘Six on Friday night. I pulled every con to get this so make sure he does you proud.’

‘He will. You’re a star.’ And Grace is history, she adds to herself. It is time for her to stop being a wimp and fight properly.

Johnny pays extra for next day delivery to his office for Grace’s cap. A cap, even though it is a funky one, is not a romantic present and it is not too expensive. He feels pleased with himself.

Grace has her new outfit, and is ready to go. All that stands between her and a day with Johnny is a couple of jobs. She just has to wait patiently for Saturday to arrive. It’s like waiting for Christmas.

‘What are you doing this weekend?’ Alison asks Matt over dinner.

‘Nothing, so far. I did ask Johnny if he wanted to play golf but he was busy.’

‘I know. I asked Betty if she fancied shopping and she said they had plans.’

‘That’s funny, because he said he had to play golf with a client.’ Alison looks at him, feels herself panic, and decides not to let on.

‘Oh, I must have been confused.’

‘Right...’ Matt doesn’t believe her. Alison never gets things like that mixed up. He feels as if everything is strange at the moment, but he is trying not to think about it. Matt doesn’t like to think too much.

Later, Matt is watching a drama on television, so Alison goes into the hall and calls Betty.

‘Hi, it’s only me,’ she says when Betty answers.

‘Hi, Ali.’

‘I just wanted to check if you definitely can’t come shopping on Saturday.’

‘I can’t. You know, operation handcuffs and porn, that’s Saturday,’ she whispers.

‘With Johnny?’

‘Who else would it be with?’ Alison quickly changes the subject and wraps up the call soon after.

‘I spoke to Betty, Matt, and she thinks that her and Johnny are spending Saturday together.’

‘Well, maybe they are then, and the client thing was him being confused.’

‘I hope so.’ Alison has a bad feeling about everything now, and especially about Saturday. ‘But if not, then Betty might want to go shopping.’

‘That’s fine. I wouldn’t mind a day in peace to watch sport.’ Matt hugs her extra tight, not-something he normally does. ‘I love you,’ he says, and buries his lips in her hair.

Alison can’t help but feel that the bet is affecting everyone, and that Saturday is going to be a turning point.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Grace never went on day trips or holidays as a child, but she thinks that this is how it would have felt if she had done. She can’t sleep with the excitement. Every time she tries to sleep her head whizzes round, but she is so happy that the lack of sleep doesn’t upset her. She gives up at five in the morning, lies in bed for another hour, then gets up and goes to have a long, hot bath. She pours in her most expensive bubbles, and lies for as long as she can without wrinkling up. She thinks, thinks, thinks. All thoughts of Johnny. When she gets out, she goes to make coffee, which she enjoys with the fish. It is still too early, so she has another cup before making herself eat some cereal to try to calm her stomach.

She liberally applies her best body moisturiser, and she gets dressed and puts her make-up on. Then she sits, like a child, staring out of the window, even though she has almost three hours left to wait.

Betty is so excited that she can’t sleep. She got in late on Friday night after a work do, and Johnny was gently snoring in bed. But that served a purpose because she wants to blow his mind today. She lies awake, planning her outfit, her entrance, what she will do first, what she will do next. She watches him sleep, smiling at the thought that he has no idea what treats are in store for him. At seven she gives up on sleep and gets up. She goes to the bathroom and has a long hot bath, with expensive oils, before covering herself in moisturiser. It is still only seven thirty so she quietly tiptoes to the wardrobe, pulls out the edible knickers, her high heels and the handcuffs. She puts the knickers and the high heels on once she is back downstairs, and she makes a breakfast of croissants (partially cooked, only need heating), orange juice (freshly squeezed) and coffee. He won’t know what’s hit him.

Johnny has no idea what Betty is up to, but he doesn’t want her to know he is awake. He has been awake for a while, thinking of the day ahead and worrying about what he is doing, at the same time as looking forward to it. His head is a fuzzy mess. He notices Betty get out of bed and go downstairs, so he tries to doze. Later she comes back, opens her wardrobe and disappears again. He knows that he won’t sleep but he still can’t face getting up yet.

He can see the sun seeping in through the curtains and he hopes that it will be a sunny day. He doesn’t want the rain to ruin his golf, or his time with Grace. He might be fuzzy but he needs that.

Betty returns to the bedroom with a tray.

‘Morning,’ she says seductively, causing Johnny to open his eyes and sit up.

‘What on earth ...?’ He looks at her in disbelief and hits the side of his head to make sure he is awake.

‘Well, big boy, I thought I’d handcuff you to the bed, and feed you your breakfast. I’m wearing your dessert.’ Betty walks seductively up to him but it goes wrong as she tries to balance the tray on one hand and unhook the handcuffs with the other. Although she doesn’t drop the tray, Johnny cannot help but burst out laughing. Not his most sensible move.

‘What’s funny?’ She regains her balance and abandons the handcuffs.

‘What are you doing? You, you... I don’t know what to say.’ He is astounded.

‘I thought we’d have breakfast and stay in bed all day.’

‘Nice thought, but you know I have to play golf with a client today.’

Betty puts the tray down on him, hard, and he steadies it so he doesn’t end up wearing the coffee.

‘I knew no such thing.’ She is standing up, half naked and exposed. She still has the handcuffs. Johnny knows that he hasn’t told her, but he did that on purpose because of the guilt. He kept meaning to tell her, then kept backing out. He has had to play golf with clients at weekends before, but this time he is meeting Grace, and she still isn’t technically a client.

‘I did say,’ he protests. Lying makes him feel even worse. He is not having an affair, he is not going to, he just needs to see her, which is different. To his surprise, Betty bursts into tears.

‘You’ve ruined everything.’ She is angry with him because she knows that he didn’t mention golf and she is afraid that it is with
her
.

‘What? What have I done? Betty, we didn’t discuss your plans this weekend either.’

‘I planned to keep you in bed.’ She angrily marches over to her wardrobe and pulls out her large brown paper bag. She empties it on top of him, spilling the coffee, which he is powerless to mop up. He gets out of bed and puts the breakfast tray on the floor, then he starts going through what is lying on the duvet. As he looks through Betty’s sex toys he doesn’t know whether to laugh or to be outraged. He has a strange urge for both.

‘Betty, what on earth’s brought all this on? Please tell me you’re not doing a feature on it.’ They have never spoken about the need for sex toys. Underwear is one thing but porn isn’t something he believed his wife would ever even watch, let alone buy. The idea of her going into a shop and asking for lesbian porn is enough to make him want to laugh hysterically. He can’t picture it with a straight face.

‘How dare you suggest that I would only have sex with you with all this for a feature?’

‘A French maid’s outfit? We’ve never done dressing up.’

‘There’s always a first time.’

‘Porn? I’m not complaining but you told me that porn disgusts you.’

‘I changed my mind. I’m allowed to change my mind.’

‘I don’t need this.’

‘What? What the fuck don’t you need?’ She is not Superwife any more, she is superfluous.

‘I don’t need you to do this for me. I love you and I am quite happy with our sex life. I don’t need to eat your knickers.’ He bursts out laughing, unable to keep it in any longer.

‘How dare you laugh at me?’ She is stamping her feet and her fists are clenched. He goes to put his arm round her. She shrugs him off.

‘Fuck off, fuck off. Go to your client. I hate you.’ She gets into bed and pulls the duvet over her head. She is having a tantrum but she doesn’t want to look at him. She doesn’t want to drive him any further into her arms, but neither can she just let it happen. She wishes Grace were there. She would love to slap her right now.

‘I’m sorry.’ He touches her shoulder, feeling awful. He just can’t get over how bizarre she looks.

‘Just go.’ She pushes him away. Johnny looks at her, feels awful as he sees her body shaking with rage. He wants to kiss her, to apologise, to make it up to her. But just as he is about to do that, he thinks about where he is going, and torn, feeling ripped in two, he starts towards her, then away, and then towards her, finally going to the bathroom where he has a shower, before getting dressed.

Her head is still firmly under the duvet when he says goodbye, and despite the fact that he feels wretched, he leaves. As he walks out of the front door, he acknowledges that he has a big problem and he has to deal with it. Soon.

He is early, so he drives around near Grace’s flat, feeling awful and wonderful at the same time. He wishes that his life were not going this way. He is not a cad, has never been, even in his youth. He wants to be happy – he is happy – but all of a sudden his happiness is being questioned, being teased, changing beyond his control.

Grace moves away from the window as the time draws closer. She checks her reflection in the mirror, and she goes through her handbag, making sure she has everything she needs. She reapplies her lipgloss, and tries to feel calmer. Next to the front door, her golf clubs are waiting. She is glad she held on to them. She has pulled her hair back in a ponytail, and she is wearing a pair of loose brown trousers, and a cream jumper. She looks practical, yet still a bit sexy, as the jumper is tight. Her flat shoes go with the outfit. She can’t believe they are spending the day together. She can barely contain her excitement.

She thinks back to the first day they met, and how she was going to give him the full Grace treatment. He is getting just that, but genuinely. She means everything she says or does.