Agent Provocateur (37 page)

Betty lifts her head up after she hears the door close behind him. She feels awful. She looks round and sees that Johnny has packed up all the toys, and removed the tray. All that remains of her humiliation is the fact she is still wearing her edible knickers and her high heels, and she is also clutching the handcuffs. She takes them off and puts on her tracksuit. She takes a deep breath. Was he telling the truth? Is he playing golf with a client? She hates herself for it, but she goes to the hall cupboard and sees that his clubs have gone. She then opens his wardrobe and sees that he is wearing his casual golf clothes (she knows his entire wardrobe). She breathes easily. Until she remembers what it was that set her off when he mentioned golf. Grace once trapped a man playing golf.

She knows what she has to do as she starts ransacking the house, looking for clues. She has to know if he’s cheating, or if he’s about to. Would Grace have called her if they had already done something, or would she wait? It is nearly the two month deadline; it is looming so close that she can almost touch it. But she can’t wait that long. She has to know. First she goes through his work jacket pockets, but finds nothing. Then she goes through the desk drawer where he keeps his bills, but still nothing. She looks under the bed (irrationally), in his trouser pockets, even in his shoes. Finally, exhausted and with nothing, she picks up the phone and calls Alison.

Grace’s buzzer sounds at exactly ten o’clock. This doesn’t annoy her, as it would do normally. She feels relieved. She had been worrying that he might not turn up. Grace isn’t used to conventional dating, and the fear that sat within her until the buzzer went was immense, and alien. Not that she is dating, of course. But it shook her up. She grabs her clubs, locks her door and bounds down the stairs to meet him, as they arranged.

He sees her coming towards him and he smiles. She opens the door, and he cannot help but plant a kiss on her cheek as he takes her clubs for her. She looks delicious. His mind flips, briefly, to Betty and her knickers, but he banishes it. Whatever happens, he needs this day. Even if it’s the last.

He opens the car door for her and she climbs in. She turns to him and smiles, he does the same as he switches on the ignition. Anyone witnessing them would assume they were a happy couple going out for the day. Instead of being locked in confusion.

‘I’ve got you a gift,’ he says, handing over a silver bag. She smiles. She wants whatever is in that bag more than she wants anything. She opens it, and pulls out a cap. It’s funky but also perfect for golf.

‘You’re an angel,’ she says, kissing his cheek and putting the cap on. Whatever happens, she will always cherish the cap. Her gift from Johnny.

‘Betty, will you calm down? I can’t understand a word you’re saying.’ Alison is in bed, on the phone. Matt is looking at her with questions in his eyes and also exasperation. They were in the middle of making love and it annoys him that Alison abandoned him for the phone. His penis is deflating at a rate of knots.

‘OK, give me half an hour and I’ll be over,’ she says finally.

‘Great, not only do you abandon our Saturday shag but now I haven’t got any chance of a retry.’

‘Don’t be silly, it doesn’t take you half an hour.’ She decides to take a leaf out of Betty’s book and keep her man happy before she leaves.

Matt stays in bed while Alison dresses.

‘So, Johnny isn’t there, I take it?’

‘No, he must be playing golf, like you said.’

‘What is going on with those two?’

Alison colours slightly, and feels angry all of a sudden that she has to lie to him. Matt can be a bit frivolous at times but that doesn’t mean he deserves this.

‘I don’t know, but Johnny is acting strangely, according to Betty.’

‘Well, he seems fine to me. Apart from that drunken thing the other night.’

‘Matt, do you think he’s cheating on her?’

‘No, I don’t. First of all he’s not like that, and second he adores her. Christ, they have the perfect marriage, or that’s what it seems like. I don’t understand what’s been happening lately.’

‘Maybe Betty will shed some light now. Are you sure you don’t mind me going out?’

‘No way. I get a nice peaceful day.’ He winks to show he is teasing, and she kisses him and leaves.

‘Have you been burgled?’ Alison asks, as she walks into Betty’s house.

‘No. I did this.’ She is storming around still. The lack of evidence has made her even more angry.

‘You ransacked your own home. Why?’ Alison is trying not to be too shocked by Betty’s appearance. Her hair is sticking up, as if she has been electrocuted, her tracksuit is one that she normally would wear only to weed the garden, and her face is pale. She looks like a wild woman.

‘I want evidence that he’s with her, that he’s having an affair. I need to know. You know, Grace told me once that sometimes you might only have a tiny, tiny bit of doubt in your mind, but that tiny doubt grows and grows, with suspicion feeding it and she says it drives people mad. That’s how she justifies what she does. She says it’s better to know what’s going on than to suspect, because otherwise you go insane. And I argued and told her that trust was the most important thing and what she did was wrong, but look, she was right. I don’t trust him anymore. I have a tiny doubt and it’s taking me over and now I’ve ransacked my house looking for clues and I am going mad.’

‘Then put an end to it.’

‘What, the bet?’

‘Of course the bet. Look at you. Remember when you told me you were doing this? I told you not to, but you said that you trusted him completely. And for the first week you were fine, but then you began to lose it. First the doubts just because you knew she was chasing him but you didn’t know when and where. Then the Superwife thing, which is still going on. Betty, you’re right, you are going mad. So for goodness’ sake put an end to it, please.’

‘I will.’ It suddenly makes sense and she feels composure return.

‘You’ll call her?’

‘Yeah, let’s do it, let’s do it now. But what if she pulls the article?’ She can barely believe that, in the state she’s in, she is still thinking about the article.

‘Then she does. You tell Fiona that you can’t do it.’

‘But she’ll kill me.’

‘And that’s more important than Johnny?’ Alison snaps.

‘No, of course not.’ Betty remembers how she did all this for her career and realises that her priorities were round the bend. Why didn’t she refuse? Was she really afraid of losing her job, or was she, deep down, curious to know if Johnny was a cheater? She is unsure if she wants to find the answer.

‘Well then, tell her that she’ll have to demote you. You’ll get another job if you need to, Betts. Please just stop this and worry about the consequences later.’

‘Shall I call her now?’

‘Yes! Right now.’ Alison is rarely exasperated with her friend, and she is not used to being the sensible, in control one. She wants Betty back, and Betty with Johnny, like normal. The world would be rebalanced.

‘Shall we have coffee before we start?’

‘Um, yes, please, I’m still half asleep.’ Grace yawns to demonstrate this fact, but she is just beginning to realise how tired she is. They sit in the golf lounge and wait for the coffee to be brought to them.

‘This place is amazing,’ Johnny says, looking around him at the heavily portraited walls.

‘Isn’t it? I love it here.’ It is not quite a lie: she does love it, but she is also seeing it for the first time. She blames it on her sleepiness that she was initially not entirely sure where she was going, but she has quickly discovered the way round and memorised it; something she is used to in her job.

‘So, how are you doing? You still haven’t given me an answer on my financial proposals.’

‘Oh, so that’s why you agreed golf with me, so you could get me to sign my money away to you?’

‘Absolutely.’ Johnny smiles at her, feeling an urge to kiss her. He pushes it away. There is too much of a mess in his head. He is just going to enjoy the day, enjoy it for now. ‘But there was the added bonus of playing golf here. I’ve always wanted to do it.’

‘Right.’ She pretends to be disappointed, but she can tell from his eyes that he is happy to be with her.

‘Oh, and the company isn’t too bad.’

Now she laughs, as does he. She finds it unbelievable that their conversations are so basic yet they fill her with joy. There is no intellect needed – not like with the others. With Johnny, just a hello is enough to keep her warm for an hour.

‘This coffee is lovely. Johnny, I hate to ask this, but I have to. Did your wife mind?’

‘You’re a client, or you will be one day if you ever get round to signing the papers. I’m playing golf with a client.’ He looks serious.

‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. I didn’t want to, but well, you know …’ She wants to declare her feelings to him. Not as part of any phase – she has long given up playing that game – but because she needs to. She has to mention Betty to him because she is an issue, and Grace needs to know how he sees her before she opens her heart.

‘Grace, I don’t know what’s happening here, but I’m with you today, and that’s all. Please can that be all?’

‘Yes, Johnny, that can be all.’

Betty dials Grace’s home number. It rings until the answer phone kicks in. She listens to the message, as if it will offer a clue, but she hangs up just before the beep.

‘She’s not there.’

‘OK. Leave a message.’ Alison is talking to a child.

‘Saying, “Keep your slutty hands off my husband”?’

‘We don’t know if she has her slutty, I mean, her hands on him.’

‘I’ll call her mobile.’ Betty dials for a second time.

Grace is about to hand her handbag over to the cloakroom attendant, when her phone rings. She thinks about not answering it, but when she sees it is Betty, she cannot resist. She chastises herself for her evil, but there is a devil sitting on her shoulder. It is out of her control. She mouths ‘sorry’ to Johnny and answers.

‘Grace.’

‘It’s me.’

‘I’m a bit busy at the moment.’

‘Doing what?’

‘I’m not sure I can say.’ She looks at Johnny, who smiles back.

‘I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.’

‘Well, I’ll call you tomorrow.’

‘It can’t wait. I need to talk to you now.’

Grace smiles at Johnny apologetically. She realises that there is no need for Betty to know who she is with, that revenge is not her goal, and that Betty doesn’t deserve that kind of vindictiveness.

‘Look, I’m really going to have to go.’ She shrugs in exasperation, which Johnny takes as his cue.

‘Grace, come on, or we’ll miss our slot,’ he says loudly.

Grace freezes, Betty freezes. Grace hangs up the phone and, feeling dreadful, she gives her bag to the lady who has been patiently waiting for it.

‘Betty?’ Alison is staring at her, as she holds the receiver in her hand. She blinks, but does not move. ‘Betty, give that to me.’ Alison hangs up the phone and leads Betty to sit down.

‘I heard his voice,’ she says eventually. ‘He’s with her, and she’s won. And I’ve lost.’

‘What’s wrong, Grace? You seem a bit preoccupied.’ Johnny has barely managed to get a word out of her since they made their way on to the course.

‘Sorry. I just didn’t think it would be this hard.’

‘What, golf?’

‘No. Not golf.’ She smiles at him sadly, but she cannot walk away. Not yet. ‘I know, let’s get on with me thrashing you, and then we’ll talk over supper.’

‘Good idea. Golf and talk don’t mix. I hope you’re not one of those women who never shut up when they’re playing.’

‘How dare you?’ She pretends to be indignant. ‘For that, I’m going to tee off first.’

As they start playing, Johnny is swinging from feeling relaxed. It is a mixture of fresh air, his favourite game and Grace that is doing it. But his composure is being interrupted by a collage of the morning’s events with Betty. The breakfast, the handcuffs, the edible knickers. He hits a bad shot.

‘Oh dear, you weren’t concentrating,’ teases Grace, who is on good form despite the fact she hasn’t played for a while.

‘I thought I’d give you a chance, or something. But for that, I won’t. Prepare to be humiliated.’

‘OK, Johnny, do your worst.’

The most awful thing is that he can see it now. There are two Johnnys: the one who would now be talking about going to the supermarket with his wife, Betty; would be petting Cyril, and arguing over who does which chore. Then they would have lunch and then he would probably play golf with Matt, or watch sport. Not the most exciting life, but his life, his chosen life, the life he was always happy with.

Then there is the Johnny who would bring her breakfast in bed, because Grace is the sort of woman for whom you have to do that. He can picture himself pulling back the duvet, and kissing her from her ankles, up her long legs. He shudders with that thought. Luckily, Grace is lining up a shot. Then, after a morning of making love, they would get up and do something. Play golf, maybe, go horse riding (although he can’t ride), drive to the country. That is what he would do with Grace. She promised excitement and he wouldn’t go shopping, do chores – no, because that isn’t what Grace represents. He knows that there is an element of fantasy attached and the reality would be different, but the worst thing, the thing he is losing the ability to cope with, is the thought that he wants to try. To give that life a go, maybe.

He loves Betty, but he believes he loves Grace, and there aren’t two of him to go round, so he is clueless as to what to do.

‘Nice shot,’ he calls, as he realises that the only thing he can do is play golf.

‘They’re playing golf together, but that doesn’t mean that anything else is happening.’

‘No, but how do we know they are playing?’

‘You said he said that they’d miss their slot.’

‘That could mean anything. They could be fucking. “Oh, Grace, put the phone down. I missed your slot.”’ Betty realises what she’s said and she bursts out laughing, sounding hysterical.