Swimming Pool Sunday (17 page)

‘They’re beautiful,’ said Alexis. He looked at her. ‘You’re beautiful.’ Daisy blushed.

‘It’s been a lovely dinner,’ she said in a rather flustered voice. ‘I’ve really enjoyed it.’

‘Good,’ said Alexis.

He looked at her carefully for a second, then casually relaxed his grip on her hand. An infinitesimal beat of silence passed. Daisy didn’t move her hand away. Alexis stared downwards and counted to five. An unspeakable excitement was growing inside him. Slowly he raised his head and looked straight at her. A fiery red had covered her cheeks; her eyes were lowered; her thick dark lashes were casting shadows on her face. Gradually, scarcely daring to breathe, he closed his hand over hers again.

While Alexis ordered the bill and paid it, neither of them spoke very much. Outside in the street it was dark; a warm indigo-blue summer darkness, punctuated by glowing shop signs, and snatches of low laughter, and glimpses of brightly coloured dresses under yellow street lamps. They walked silently to the car. Daisy found that she had begun to shiver. The leather seats of Alexis’s car seemed cold and unforgiving as she got in; her legs were trembling and she could think of nothing to say.

‘I must hear you play properly some time,’ said Alexis
conversationally, as he switched on the engine.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Daisy. ‘Well … I’m doing a concert in Linningford at the beginning of September.’

‘Splendid!’ said Alexis. ‘What is it?’

‘A piano concerto,’ said Daisy shyly, ‘with the Linningford Symphony Orchestra.’

‘Really?’ said Alexis. ‘I am impressed.’ He glanced sideways at Daisy. ‘That must be very exciting,’ he said.

‘Yes, it is,’ said Daisy. She could feel her voice trembling and clasped her hands nervously. What was going to happen when they got out of the car? she thought frantically. Was Alexis going to want to come in? Was he going to kiss her? Was he going to want to …

‘Which piano concerto?’ Alexis asked, suddenly breaking the silence. Daisy gave a little jump.

‘Oh!’ she gasped. ‘Er … Brahms. The second.’

‘I don’t know it, I’m afraid,’ said Alexis easily. ‘I’m not very well up on Brahms.’

‘Oh, it’s really beautiful,’ said Daisy earnestly. There was a pause. Then the car stopped and she looked up, startled, at Alexis. ‘Why are we stopping?’ she said faintly.

‘Because we’re here.’ Alexis turned and smiled at her. ‘Look, there’s your cottage.’

‘Oh, yes.’ Daisy’s voice was no more than a husky whisper and she was quivering with nerves. Alexis gazed at her. Her lips were trembling; her dark eyes darted about. He felt as though he had trapped a baby deer inside his car.

Abruptly, he opened his door. Before Daisy could think to move, he was round the other side of the car and gallantly opening the passenger door for her, bowing in a flowery manner that made her giggle, in spite of herself.

‘Well, good night,’ he said in friendly tones. ‘Thank you very much for coming.’

‘Well, thank
you
,’ said Daisy, feeling her heart
pounding painfully in her chest. She looked at Alexis, just visible in the darkness. He took a step forward and she began to breathe a little more quickly.

‘It was … good fun,’ he said.

‘Yes, it was,’ managed Daisy.

There was a silence. Then, slowly, gradually, Alexis bent his head towards her. He kissed her softly once on the cheek. Then, before she could say anything, before she could even breathe, he was tilting his head slightly, moving a hand up to support the back of her head, and bringing his lips down onto hers. Daisy closed her eyes, and felt his warm lips, and his mouth gently opening hers, and a cool breeze blowing through her hair, and couldn’t think of anything else. When he lifted his head, she stared back, slightly dazed, and numb to the nerves leaping in her stomach. I would, she suddenly found herself thinking, if he wanted to … I would say yes. A quivering anticipation began to build inside her, but already he was moving away, towards the car.

‘I’ve got to go, I’m afraid,’ he said regretfully. He gave her a little smile. ‘Have you got your key?’

‘Y-yes,’ said Daisy confusedly.

‘I’ll wait until you’re safely in,’ Alexis said. He opened his door. ‘How about’, he added casually, ‘meeting up again sometime?’

‘Yes,’ said Daisy. Her words seemed to be struggling to come out. ‘Th-that would be nice.’

‘I could come round for coffee tomorrow,’ said Alexis. ‘Unless you’re busy practising?’ Daisy swallowed.

‘No,’ she said slowly, ‘I’m not busy.’

‘Good,’ said Alexis. ‘See you tomorrow.’

‘See you then,’ said Daisy.

She crossed the road, walked down the path, waved shyly at Alexis, then opened the door of the cottage and disappeared. Alexis sat quite still for a few seconds, then started the engine of his car, put his foot down, and drove off into the darkness.

The news that the Kembers were going to sue the Delaneys over Katie’s accident spread quickly through the village amidst a welter of contrary reports and confused opinion. No-one seemed to be quite sure what the details were, or to have more than a vague third-hand account. Eventually, frustrated by hearing a number of conflicting accounts of the story, Sylvia Seddon-Wilson decided to organize a fund-raising coffee-morning in aid of Katie’s appeal. She invited all the ladies of the village, including Louise, Ursula and Meredith.

‘They won’t come, of course,’ she said confidently, as she sat at breakfast, licking envelopes. James, her husband, looked politely up from
The Financial Times
.

‘Who won’t?’

‘Well, Louise won’t, for a start. She’ll be far too busy.’ James’s brow wrinkled.

‘Which one’s Louise?’ Sylvia sighed impatiently.

‘You
know
, James. I told you. The mother of the little girl who had the accident.’

‘Oh, yes.’ James frowned. ‘Bloody awful business. How’s she doing?’ he added. ‘The little girl?’ Sylvia paused, mid-lick.

‘Apparently, she’s woken up from her coma. But …’ she fixed James with an impressive look ‘… she’s been brain damaged. And the latest is that they’re taking the Delaneys to court. Suing them. Can you believe it?’

‘Jesus Christ.’ James shuddered and took a sip of coffee. He looked at Sylvia as though expecting more,
but she was licking envelopes again, so he turned his gaze back to the paper. But his attention wandered, and after a few seconds he put the paper down.

‘So – how bad is it?’

‘What?’ Sylvia’s eyebrows rose enquiringly.

‘How badly has the little girl been brain damaged?’

‘Oh,’ Sylvia shrugged, ‘I don’t know.’

‘Have you been to visit her?’ Sylvia flushed slightly.

‘No,’ she said shortly. ‘And don’t look at me like that! You know I’m no good in hospitals.’ She finished licking the envelope she was holding and put it down on the pile by her plate. ‘I’m holding this coffee-morning instead,’ she added, ‘as a gesture of support.’

‘Support!’ James guffawed with laughter.

‘It’ll be a fund-raising occasion,’ said Sylvia angrily, ‘so you can stop laughing, James.’

‘Oh, a fund-raising occasion.’ James grinned derisively. ‘I know your fund-raising methods. A sponsored gossip, is it? Fifty pence for every piece of information provided, whether true or not.’

‘Oh, shut up,’ cried Sylvia. She picked up a piece of toast and bit into it crossly. ‘Anyway,’ she added irrelevantly, ‘I thought you were supposed to be in Antwerp this week.’

‘I’m not going till Thursday.’

‘Good,’ said Sylvia, ‘you’ll be out of the way for my coffee-morning. How long are you there?’

‘Three days. Then I’m flying straight to Oslo.’

‘Even better,’ said Sylvia. She leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms lazily. ‘Well, you needn’t hurry back.’

‘Don’t worry, my darling,’ said James, grinning at her, ‘I won’t.’

By eleven o’clock on the day of the coffee-morning, fourteen ladies had assembled in Sylvia’s drawing-room, and all were looking expectantly at the door.
From the hall could be heard the rather flustered tones of Mary Tracey, who had just arrived. Mary, it was tacitly acknowledged by all, must know more about the whole affair than any of them. After all, she seemed to be Louise’s closest friend in the village.

And so, in deference to her, nobody began speaking on the subject of the swimming-pool accident until she had been persuaded to entrust baby Luke to the tender care of Mrs Greenly in the kitchen, had been led into the room, and then ensconced on a large Knole sofa in the centre of the room. Sylvia smiled warmly at her and held out a cup of coffee.

‘There you are,’ she said sweetly. ‘I hope it’s not too strong.’

‘Oh, er, no,’ said Mary, turning rather pink. ‘I’m sure it’s fine. Lovely.’

Mary didn’t usually attend Sylvia’s coffee-mornings, considering them a bit fancy for her, especially now she had Luke to consider. But Sylvia had been so charming on the telephone that she had felt unable to refuse. Now she looked around in slight alarm; she was probably the youngest woman in the room, and definitely the shabbiest.

There was a pause, as Sylvia returned to her own chair and took a sip of coffee. Then she drew breath. Everybody looked up.

‘And so, Mary,’ she said in sympathetic tones. ‘How is poor little Katie?’ Mary swallowed. Every eye seemed to be on her.

‘Well,’ she began hesitatingly, ‘she’s woken up from the coma.’

There was a general sigh of relief.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Mrs Prendergast, a large lady who lived across the road from Sylvia.

‘That’s marvellous news!’ said someone else, rather too gaily for Mary’s liking.

‘Yes,’ added Mary quickly, ‘but that doesn’t mean
she’s better. She’s still very woozy, and they say …’ she swallowed and took a sip of coffee, ‘… they say she’ll probably be brain damaged.’ Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. What was wrong with her? she thought furiously. She’d known all about Katie for days. She should be able to speak more matter-of-factly about it, but somehow, telling all these women brought the horror of it back to her all over again. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek.

‘Oh, Mary!’ Suddenly Sylvia was by her side, stroking her hand. ‘Don’t talk about it if you don’t want to.’

‘No, it’s all right.’ Mary struggled to control herself.

‘It’s just that we’re all so concerned about the poor little thing,’ continued Sylvia.

‘Brain damage!’ murmured one of the ladies sitting by the window. ‘How frightful.’

‘She won’t be a … you know, a total …’ Mary searched for an acceptable word, and gave up. ‘You know. And there is a small chance she might recover completely.’ She looked around the room hopefully, but none of the other ladies looked convinced by this show of optimism. They exchanged determinedly sombre glances.

‘How shattering it must be for them,’ exclaimed Mrs Prendergast, giving a little shudder. ‘I don’t know how I’d cope.’

‘Awful!’

‘Dreadful!’ There was a short respectful pause, then Sylvia turned to Mary.

‘But I gather’, she said in vague tones, ‘that there’s some talk of compensation? Damages? A court case?’ She cocked her head enquiringly. There was a tiny rustling sound as all the ladies moved forward on their seats.

‘Well,’ began Mary. She looked around. ‘Yes, that’s right. Louise and Barnaby are taking the Delaneys to court. Apparently …’ She paused and wiped her nose.
‘Apparently the Delaneys were negligent. The diving-board was dangerous.’

Mrs Prendergast gasped.

‘How horrendous!’ she cried. ‘I mean, my own children used to swim in that pool! They used to dive off that board all the time!’

‘So did mine!’ chimed in another lady. ‘To think it was dangerous all that time! It’s criminal!’ She looked around agitatedly.

‘Terrible!’ came another voice.

‘They haven’t actually proved anything yet,’ put in Mrs Quint, a quietly spoken woman who had so far contributed nothing to the conversation. ‘I don’t think it’s quite fair to assume it definitely was dangerous. And I have to say, it didn’t look particularly dangerous to me.’ The general air of excitement subsided slightly, and Mrs Prendergast looked rather aggrievedly at Mrs Quint.

‘Well, they wouldn’t be taking them to court if they didn’t have a case, would they?’ she said in triumphant tones.

There was a pause. No-one seemed able to contradict that assertion.

‘Well, I think those Kembers should go for everything they can get,’ said Janice Sharp, who had a weekend cottage in Melbrook and had come down especially for Sylvia’s coffee-morning. ‘Good luck to them! I mean, the Delaneys certainly look as though they can afford it.’ Mrs Prendergast nodded.

‘Did you know they’ve got houses all over Europe?’ she said, brushing crumbs vigorously off her lap.

‘Are you sure?’ said Mrs Quint.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Mrs Prendergast confidently. ‘One in France, certainly, and then I think there’s one in Italy and one somewhere else … They’ve got all that, but they’re too mean to keep their pool safe for our children to swim in! It’s outrageous!’

‘I don’t know,’ said Mrs Quint dubiously. ‘I’m not sure they’re as rich as that, and I assume the Kembers will be suing for a very large amount?’

All eyes turned to Mary, who blushed. She herself had been astounded when she’d heard the sort of sums that were being bandied about by Cassian and Louise. Staggered. But Cassian had been quick to show her exactly why Katie needed so much money and why it would be letting her down to claim any less. Mary blushed even harder as she remembered Cassian sitting next to her at Louise’s kitchen table, touching her bare arm with the soft cotton of his shirt; as she remembered the faint expensive scent of his aftershave and the way he smiled at her … Then, as she realized everyone was waiting for an answer, she shook her head impatiently to clear her thoughts, took a breath and said abruptly, ‘About half a million pounds. Or thereabouts.’ There was a sharp intake of breath around her.

‘What?’

‘You must be joking!’

Even Sylvia was surprised.

‘Is that true, Mary?’ she said. ‘Are they really going to ask for that much?’

‘So they say.’ Suddenly Mary became aware of the goggle eyes around her, and wondered whether she ought not to have kept some pieces of information to herself. But it was too late, exclamations of astonishment were breaking out all around the room. Mrs Prendergast was nodding at her neighbour and saying repeatedly, ‘I’m not at all surprised,’ in a defiant voice, as though daring someone to contradict her.