Flights of Angels (18 page)

Kristen’s face broke into a little smile. ‘Sorry I keep boring you with all this.’

‘You’re not boring me. I’m getting a free meal, aren’t I.’

‘Yes, you are,’ she said, turning her attention back to the industrial size pan of pasta. ‘So tell me what you’ve been up to. Any new women on the horizon?’

Simon flinched slightly at the question, a vision of Miss Moonshine flickering through his mind.

‘Only if you can count a goldfish. And I don’t even know if it
is
a female.’

‘God, Si! You’ve not been buying more fish? You’ve really got to get a life!’

‘I know. I know,’ he complained. ‘I must be having one of the worst years on record.’ He picked up the jar of tomato sauce, reading the Italian-sounding name. Turning it round he read,
made in England.

‘No, not quite,’ Kristen chipped in.

Simon raised his eyebrows. How could anyone have had a worse year than him?

‘You’ve heard me talk about Claudie, haven’t you?’ Kristen said, a huge wooden spoon in her hand.

Simon nodded. ‘The lady whose husband died?’

‘Yes. She’s been acting very strangely lately - talking to herself.’

‘Well I do that.’

‘At work? All day?’

‘Er - no.’

‘Well
she
does. But the strangest thing about it is that she seems happier than she has for a long time. I keep trying to talk to her about it, and she swears she’s fine.’

‘So what’s the problem? Why not leave her to get on with things in her own way?’

‘Because it’s not normal, is it?’

‘Who are we to say what’s normal, and what isn’t?’

‘Stop getting all profound on me. I invited you round for some advice and I’m getting all your university notes regurgitated at me.’

Simon grinned. ‘Sorry.’

Kristen picked up the jar of sauce. ‘My speciality,’ she said. ‘You know I spend hours making this sauce and then pouring it into ready-bought containers.’

‘So that’s the secret, is it?’

‘I don’t think I’d make a very good housewife, actually,’ she said in a more serious tone of voice. ‘I’m a terrible cook.’

‘Who said that?’ Jimmy asked, poking his head round the door. ‘You’re not a terrible cook. I love your cooking.’

‘It’s hardly cooking,’ Kristen said, draining the pasta and emptying the pot of sauce over it.

Jimmy walked over to her and squeezed her round the waist, planting an embarrassingly loud kiss on her cheek.

Feeling a little uncomfortable in the middle of a scene of domestic bliss, Simon walked through to the living room and left them to it.

The post hadn’t arrived before Simon had left for Kristen’s, and he wasn’t surprised to find three window envelopes on his mat when he got home. He opened them, grimacing at the amounts he owed to various people, and wondering how long he could delay payment.

But one envelope caught his eye. It wasn’t brown, and there was no window in sight. He tore the envelope open and lifted the letter out, immediately seeing the words
congratulations, you have won
. He didn’t bother reading any further. Or he wouldn’t have, if two Eurostar tickets hadn’t fallen out from behind the letter.

Simon picked them up and read them. They looked official enough. There was no red rectangle asking him to telephone anywhere to claim his free prize.

He picked the letter up and read it again.
Yours was the winning caption in our “Paris Passion” competition
, it stated. Winning caption? Was it referring to that daft thing he had filled in and posted months before without thinking? He couldn’t even remember what his caption had been. Something slushy, in the hope of winning a romantic weekend for two, and thereby keeping Felicity sweet. But that was two weeks before she’d upped and left.

‘Blimey!’ he laughed. He’d won a trip to Paris for two. But who on earth was he going to take?

‘Why is it that every woman thinks she’s the perfect matchmaker?’ Jimmy asked between mouthfuls of bacon butty.

‘Because they probably are!’ Kristen said. ‘Anyway, it was your idea.’

‘I don’t think so,’ he mumbled, shaking an extra large dollop of brown sauce onto his plate. ‘I only mentioned Simon and Claudie in the same breath and you slapped the two of them together as if they were destined to be with each other.’

‘I really think they might be. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner,’ Kristen said, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

‘Well you can count me out of it. It will only end in disaster. You’ll probably make a fool of yourself, and lose both Claudie and Simon in the process.’

‘Don’t be so melodramatic. This could really work.’

‘And how many times have I heard that one?’ Jimmy asked, shaking his head in despair. ‘Look what happened to Linda and Patrick.’

‘That was different,’ Kristen said sharply.

‘How?’

‘They just didn’t get into the spirit of the thing.’

‘They nearly murdered each other, Kris.’

Kristen pouted. She didn’t like being proved wrong. ‘That had nothing to do with me.’

‘Really!’ Jimmy dunked his butty into the brown pool of sauce that was turning his plate into an Irish bog.

‘They obviously weren’t meant to be together.’

‘Obviously. And what makes you think Simon and Claudie are?’

‘Well, it’s-’ she lifted her eyes to the ceiling, ‘it’s indefinable. I’ve known them both for so long now. I know how they tick. I know that they’ll just slot together.’

‘Kris, they’re people, not pieces from a jigsaw puzzle. You can’t just piece them together and expect things to work out.’

‘Why not? Isn’t that how we were introduced? At a mutual friend’s party.’

‘Yes but-’

‘But nothing! We were sat next to each other, when Penny knew perfectly well that we were both single.’

Jimmy declined to answer.

Kristen shook her head. What if Jimmy was right? What if she messed things up good and proper? She’d even almost failed to get to first base by deciding to make fresh pasta with a pesto sauce. Thankfully, she’d remembered just in time.

Pine nuts. Something as simple as pine nuts could spell absolute disaster. Kristen remembered the day she’d gone shopping with Claudie. It was only a few days after the funeral, and Claudie had been as limp and lifeless as a ragdoll. Kristen had put her in charge of the trolley, thinking it best that she had something physical to hold on to, whilst she had hunted down the items on the list.

She’d just returned with a bumper box of tissues for Jimmy’s hayfever when she saw her. Standing stock still, Claudie was staring down at something as if she meant to melt it with her gaze. Kristen had approached slowly and looked down to see what it was she was holding. It was a little packet of pine nuts. She didn’t know what they meant; what significance they held, and she wasn’t sure that it would have been wise to ask.

‘
Do you want to buy those, Claudes?’
she’d asked in a very calm, quiet voice.

Claudie had shaken her head and, with a hand that trembled like a catkin in spring, replaced the packet on the shelves.

No. Kristen didn’t suppose she knew what she was getting herself into, but she was determined not to let Jimmy change her mind. She’d just have to keep her fingers crossed and hope that fate was on her side.

‘Anyway,’ she started again, pulling herself firmly out of her anxieties, ‘what’s the big deal if I want to invite my two best friends round at the same time? It’s a wonder it hasn’t happened before. In fact, I’m quite surprised with myself that it’s taken me so long. They’re the two nicest people in the world - just waiting for me to get them together.’

‘Don’t forget that Claudie’s only been-’

‘I know,’ Kristen interrupted again. ‘You don’t need to tell me that. But I really do think it will do her good.’

Jimmy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Well, you know how I feel about it.’

‘Shut up, and leave me to it,’ Kristen said, throwing him another bacon butty.

On Monday morning, Simon was still smiling. It was as if he’d won the lottery rather than a holiday break. He knew that it wasn’t exactly life changing, but it was the symbolism of the thing. He’d been feeling so miserable, so self-absorbed and put-upon lately; nothing had been going right, and then, within the space of two days, he’d secured the website design for the company in York, and had won the competition. Was his luck finally taking a turn for the better?

Walking into the office, he wondered whether he should tell anyone. Mandy, for example. Or would she think that, by telling her, he would want her to go with him to Paris? Could be dangerous, he thought. Best not to mention it.

Strangely enough, Mandy didn’t seem to be in a very talkative mood. She’d nodded and said morning as he’d sat down, but hadn’t broken into her usual non-stop gossip routine. It was rather disturbing. He’d kind of got used to her drone as he worked. Perhaps something was wrong. Perhaps he should do the decent thing and ask if everything was all right.

He looked across at her as she sat smiling away to herself. There didn’t appear to be anything the matter. In fact, now he was actually paying attention to her, she seemed to be even happier and perkier than normal. Her lips were cherry-red and turned up into the most dazzling smile, and her face was glowing like a Halloween pumpkin.

She turned round to face him, as if she knew he was looking at her. And that was when he saw the love bite at the base of her throat. He tried not to stare at it, which was rather difficult because it looked like an old teabag glued to her neck.

Mandy the man-eater had obviously found a guy who knew how to bite back.

Simon’s hair was still wet from his shower as he left for Kristen’s. It was a mild evening, and he decided to walk into town. It gave him a chance to think about the night ahead.

He’d rang the competition organisers to explain how his circumstances had changed since he’d entered back in the autumn, and a very nice lady had said that there wouldn’t be any problem in exchanging his double room for two singles. He’d been so grateful to her that he’d almost invited her along as his guest.

Which posed the question, who was he going to take with him? Paris was definitely not a place to take a mate to. It just wouldn’t work, walking down the boulevards with a guy. Unless you really were into “gay Paree”.

There was only one choice: Kristen. But that posed a whole set of other problems. They were best friends, and it went without saying that a weekend away with her would be great fun, but what would Jimmy have to say about it? Would it be worth invoking the wrath of Jimmy Stanton?

Kristen was in the kitchen when he arrived. For someone who claimed to be a lousy housewife, she spent an awful amount of time hovering over the oven with a pinny wrapped round her waist.

‘Your hair’s wet,’ Kristen observed as Simon peered over the hob to see what was cooking.

‘Here.’ He passed her a bottle of wine.

‘Thank you. Do you want to do the honours? The glasses are over there.’

Simon uncorked the bottle and poured the wine out into the glasses on the worktop.

‘Four?’ he queried.

‘Yes. Didn’t I mention?’ Kristen turned round and smiled coquettishly. ‘Claudie’s here.’

‘No. You didn’t mention it.’

‘I thought I had. Silly me.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed, knowing instantly that Kristen was likely to have her own agenda for the evening.

‘I’ve a funny feeling you’re going to get on really well together.’

‘And I had a funny feeling you were going to say that.’

‘What? Don’t you believe me?’

‘It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I don’t like the idea of anyone making my mind up for me.’

‘Don’t be such an old windbag.’ Kristen play-punched him in the stomach. ‘Come on,’ she said, untying her pinny. ‘I’ll introduce you.’

Simon grimaced but followed her through to the living room. It was impossible to get angry with Kristen. She had a heart the size of Hull, and truly believed she knew what was best for people. He’d just have to humour her for the length of the evening. Anyway, he’d always wondered what this friend, Claudie, was like.

‘Claudie,’ Kristen began as she entered the room, ‘this is Simon. Simon, this is Claudie.’

Simon stepped out from behind Kristen and immediately felt his mouth spring open. It was Miss Moonshine.

‘Hello,’ Simon said, a smile warming his face as he leant over to shake her hand.

‘H-Hi,’ she said, eyes widening.

Kristen looked from one to the other. ‘You know each other?’

‘No,’ Simon said.

‘Yes,’ Claudie said.

‘Not really,’ Simon agreed. ‘But we have kind of met before.’

‘In the bookshop,’ Claudie said, her French accent tickling his ear musically.

‘Over Judy Garland,’ Simon added, almost laughing.

‘Judy Garland?’ Kristen looked puzzled. ‘I didn’t know you were an old film buff like Claudie.’

‘Ah!’ Simon began. ‘You see, there’s a lot about me you don’t know.’

‘Obviously,’ Kristen said.

‘He tried to steal the book I was going to buy,’ Claudie said with a little laugh in her voice.

‘Only because I had no idea you wanted it.’

Kristen looked from one to the other, quite baffled by the situation. ‘So that’s how you two met?’

‘Well, we didn’t exactly
meet
,’ Claudie said, ‘I mean - we didn’t know each other’s names or anything.’

‘But we did see each other again, you know,’ Simon added, sitting down opposite her. ‘At the pub. Do you remember? You were hovering at the door.’

‘Yes! It was that night we went out,’ Claudie explained to a bemused Kristen. ‘When we didn’t quite make it into the pub.’

‘You saw Simon?’ Kristen asked. Claudie nodded. ‘Why didn’t you say something? I could have introduced you.’

‘But I didn’t know you knew him then, did I?’ Claudie giggled at her friend’s mistake.

‘Oh, yes!’ Kristen said, looking from Claudie to Simon, and back again. ‘This is all very strange, you know.’ Kristen turned to Jimmy, but he merely gave his head a little shake as if reminding her that he wanted nothing to do with it.