The Tennis Party (27 page)

Annie and Stephen, sitting on the bank, glanced at each other worriedly.

‘Say something!’ whispered Annie. ‘This is awful!’

‘I can’t!’ hissed Stephen. ‘What am I supposed to say? Don should say something. He’s umpire.’ They both glanced at Don, who was studiedly looking down at his clipboard.

‘Cressida, let’s go,’ Charles suddenly barked in a stentorian voice. ‘We’ve had enough here.’ Cressida didn’t move. She didn’t even seem to hear him.

‘Cressida!’ Charles was starting to sound rattled.

‘Why should she go with you!’ Caroline poked Charles in the chest. He staggered slightly, as though she had hit him, and glared at her. ‘Why should she go anywhere with a two-timing bastard like you? Sorry, Cressida,’ she added. ‘I didn’t mean to remind you.’ Cressida looked up. Something like a smile appeared on her face.

‘It’s all right,’ she whispered. Caroline grinned back at her.

‘You stay here tonight with us if you want to,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to go anywhere with him. You can stay all week if you want.’

Charles gave a short laugh.

‘That’s rich,’ he said. ‘Stay with Caroline and Patrick. See how many investment plans they can sell you in one week. You think they’re your friends? You think Caroline’s being nice to you? They’ll be getting you to sign on the dotted line by breakfast-time tomorrow. Jesus Christ.’

‘Stephen!’ hissed Annie. ‘Say something. This is getting really nasty.’ But Stephen was listening, agog, as Charles turned to Caroline.

‘You think your precious Patrick’s so wonderful?’ he said. ‘Try telling that to all the people he’s conned out of their money.’ His eyes flickered contemptuously to Patrick. ‘Salesmen are all the same. He’d sell you like a shot, if he thought he could get a good price for you. Fucking con man.’ He suddenly rounded on Patrick. ‘Why did you ask us here? Not because you like us, or you wanted to see us. Christ no. Just so you could try to flog me your sordid little fund. Just so you could notch up a few more thousands on the bedpost. Is that how you get your kicks? Is that what turns you on?’

‘Is that why you asked us here too?’ Everyone looked up, startled. It was Stephen. He had stood up,
and was staring, bright red in the face, at Patrick. ‘Is that why you asked me and Annie here? To sell us that investment fund?’

There was a flabbergasted silence.

‘What investment fund? What are you talking about?’ Annie stared at Stephen, but he avoided her gaze. Charles slowly swivelled to face him.

‘Christ, he didn’t get you, did he? Stephen?’ There was a silence. Stephen looked down. Charles turned back to face Patrick.

‘You little shit,’ he said softly. ‘Do you really think Stephen can afford to invest in one of your fucking so-called unique investment opportunities? Do you really think he can afford to risk his money on speculation like that? Christ almighty.’ He turned to Stephen. ‘How much did he get you for?’ Stephen was silent. ‘Oh Christ,’ groaned Charles. ‘It was the whole fucking whack, wasn’t it? I can’t believe he talked you into it.’

‘Oh fuck off!’ burst out Patrick suddenly. ‘You’ve already done enough! I know you’ve been talking to Stephen. I know you told him he shouldn’t have signed. You needn’t pretend you don’t know anything about it.’

‘What do you mean?’ said Charles impatiently. ‘I haven’t spoken to Stephen.’

‘Don’t give me that,’ said Patrick furiously. ‘I know
you said something about taking papers away overnight; not signing straight away. I know you told him not to trust me.’

‘I haven’t said a word to him,’ said Charles. They both turned to face Stephen.

‘Actually,’ he said, shamefacedly, ‘it was Don I was chatting to.’

‘Don?’ Patrick’s look of shock was almost comical. Everyone looked up at Don, still perched on the umpire’s chair.

‘Sorry, what was that?’ he said, looking up from his clipboard. ‘I was just checking the score. You know, we’ve already had eighteen double faults.’

‘Weren’t you listening?’ said Patrick incredulously.

‘I don’t like unpleasantness,’ said Don, pursing his lips, ‘either on court or off. Was there something you wanted?’

Patrick was so taken-aback he could barely speak. ‘No, no,’ he said quickly. He looked about. ‘Shall we carry on?’

‘What do you mean, shall we carry on?’ Annie’s voice was clear and resolute. ‘I think a few things need explaining. What’s this investment fund?’

‘It’s nothing you need to worry about,’ said Patrick quickly. ‘Stephen, it’s OK. I’ll tear up the documents. Pretend it never happened. Cancel it.’

‘Cancel it? Are you sure?’ Stephen gazed at him in amazement. ‘But you said I couldn’t pull out.’

‘He told you you couldn’t pull out!’ Charles jeered in derision. ‘He forgot to tell you that you’ve got two weeks to change your mind. The cooling-off period. That’s right, isn’t it, Patrick?’

‘What, really?’ Stephen looked at Patrick incredulously. ‘You told me it was too late! You said it would cost me a few thousand to cancel!’

‘Oh dear!’ Charles’ voice was vindictively triumphant. ‘It looks like our gracious host hasn’t quite been doing the right thing by his guests. Aren’t there some regulations somewhere about selling investments? Isn’t there some sort of complaints procedure?’

‘Look, I said we’ll cancel the whole thing,’ said Patrick, avoiding Stephen’s eyes.

‘You deliberately misled me. You conned me.’ Stephen tried to drum up some anger. But the relief he felt was so strong, it wiped out any other emotion. It was almost euphoria. The whole thing was cancelled. He was in the clear. It was all OK. Suddenly he felt his legs buckling underneath him.

Flopping down in the deck-chair, he met Annie’s stern gaze.

‘Not now,’ he said.

‘Yes, now! Tell me exactly what’s been going on!’

‘It was nothing,’ he said. ‘I just said I’d invest some money with Patrick. But I’m not going to now.’

‘What money? We haven’t got any money!’ Stephen was silent.

‘Oh, come on. You might as well tell me, because I’m going to find out somehow.’

‘I was going to take out a mortgage,’ Stephen said quickly. ‘But it’s all cancelled now. Isn’t it, Patrick?’ Patrick nodded, his face expressionless.

‘A mortgage? What were you thinking of?’

‘Oh, don’t you start,’ said Stephen irritably.

‘How much for?’ Stephen was silent again. ‘Stephen . . .’

‘Eighty thousand.’

‘What?’ Annie gave a shocked laugh. ‘You’re not serious.’ Stephen shrugged. ‘Eighty thousand pounds? Eighty thousand pounds worth of mortgage? When we haven’t got any income?’

‘Oh Christ! Shut up! Yes, I made a mistake. Yes, it was with a lot of money. Yes, I’ve realized in time. Could we just drop it?’

‘Eighty thousand pounds,’ said Annie wonderingly. She turned to Caroline. ‘Can you believe it?’ she said. Caroline tried, too late, to adopt an astounded expression. She gave Annie an apologetic look and Annie gazed at her with unbelieving realization.

‘You knew all along,’ she said flatly. ‘You knew
Stephen had signed away all that money. Didn’t you?’ Caroline shrugged.

‘I can’t help what Patrick does. I told him I thought it was wrong.’

‘But we’re supposed to be friends,’ said Annie incredulously.

‘That’s what I said to Patrick,’ said Caroline defensively. ‘I said you were my only real friend.’

‘Well, if I’m your only real friend,’ said Annie, in a voice which was dangerously quiet, ‘why didn’t you tell me what was going on?’

‘I couldn’t,’ said Caroline uncomfortably. ‘Patrick said he’d lose his reputation if I went around telling people to pull out of deals.’

‘So you think it’s better for him to succeed in persuading people to take out mortgages when they can’t afford to?’

‘Well, you probably could have afforded it,’ said Caroline, rattled. ‘I mean, it’s not that much. And with us paying Nicola’s fees . . .’ She stopped abruptly.

‘Hang on a minute! That’s why! That’s why you offered to pay Nicola’s school fees! I don’t believe it!’

Nicola, running down the path to the tennis court to see who had won the match, heard her mother’s distressed voice rising above the hedge, and didn’t understand what she meant. Bursting out onto the bank, she looked around, from shocked face to shocked
face, and, in a voice that trembled slightly, said, ‘But I don’t have school fees. I go to a state school. You don’t pay fees at a state school.’ She looked around, her glasses shining, but none of the adults seemed able to speak. Then Valerie took a breath.

‘Your mummy was talking about a different school,’ she said, in a sugary voice. ‘A lovely school in the country, with kind teachers and lots of space to run about.’ She smiled at Nicola.

‘A . . . a special school?’ stammered Nicola.

‘Oh yes,’ said Valerie gaily. ‘A very special school. For special little girls.’

Nicola’s face turned ashen, and she swallowed. She looked from Annie to Stephen and back to Annie. Then she turned on her heel and ran back up the path, her bad leg dragging pathetically behind her. As she turned the corner, she gave a huge sob.

‘Oh Christ,’ said Stephen, getting up. ‘Nicola!’ he called.

‘I’ll go,’ said Annie angrily. ‘Haven’t you done enough already?’

There was silence when Annie had left. Stephen looked around. Valerie was still sitting in her chair, watching the events with gleaming eyes. Martina and the twins were nowhere to be seen; Ella had also absented herself. Patrick and Caroline were glaring
at each other; Cressida had quietly sat down on the tennis court, and was curled up, hugging her knees. She ought to realize, thought Stephen, that her skirt was a bit too short to be sitting like that. But his thoughts were interrupted by Charles.

‘Stephen, you’re a fucking moron!’ he exclaimed. ‘What were you doing signing something like that? You’re supposed to be the bright one around here.’

‘Yes, well, it’s all right now,’ muttered Stephen.

‘But it might not have been all right! You might have been ruined! I can’t even bear to think about it! I don’t know what could have possessed you.’

‘How about simple envy!’ exclaimed Stephen in a sudden angry retort. ‘How about the simple fact that everyone here is rich, and we’re poor? How’s that for starters?’ Charles stared at him.

‘I never knew you felt like that . . .’

‘I never did feel like that! I really didn’t. But look at us! We’re approaching middle age, everyone’s getting on in the world, and I haven’t even got a job!’

‘You’ve got your thesis,’ said Charles awkwardly. ‘That’s more than a job. It’s an achievement.’

‘That’s all right for you to say! But it doesn’t pay the bills, does it? We’re not all in your privileged position, Charles.’

‘My privileged position!’ Charles gave a short bitter laugh. ‘Christ, you have no idea what my position is.’

‘It seems all right to me,’ said Stephen shortly.

‘That’s because you don’t know anything about it.’ Charles paused, and took a deep breath. When he spoke again, it was in a different voice.

‘I might as well tell you,’ he said. ‘We’re as good as ruined.’ He exhaled sharply; there was a stunned silence. Caroline’s eyes darted quickly to Cressida, but she remained motionless, her head bowed. The others looked uncertainly at each other. Charles looked up at the sky.

‘It’s almost a relief to have said it,’ he murmured. Patrick looked at him curiously. Was the man serious? Was he mad?

‘What is it, the Print Centre?’ hazarded Caroline. ‘It can’t have gone bust, surely?’

‘I wish,’ said Charles bitterly. ‘At least then I’d go bankrupt and that would be it. At least it wouldn’t be unlimited.’ He enunciated the word carefully, with a self-mocking despair. ‘Unlimited fucking liability,’ he added. ‘Never-ending liability. Oh Christ!’ He gave a despairing, shocking cry, which echoed round the court. Nobody moved for a few moments. Then Patrick spoke.

‘Lloyd’s of London?’ he said quietly. Charles’ head jerked up in surprise.

‘How on earth . . . ?’ His eyes swivelled round to Cressida, still sitting, curled up on the court, as
though trying to block the world out. ‘I suppose she told you,’ he said contemptuously.

‘Actually, she didn’t,’ said Patrick calmly. ‘It was just a guess.’

Cressida slowly lifted her head. Her face was pale, and she was shaking. ‘Do you mean’, she said, in a voice barely above a whisper, ‘that it’s not a mistake?’ Patrick’s heart contracted.

‘I’m not sure,’ he said gently. ‘But I should think it’s probably not.’

‘Of course it’s fucking well not!’ yelled Charles. ‘You stupid bitch! Is that what you thought? You really are retarded, aren’t you?’ Cressida’s face crumpled, and she huddled closer to her knees. Caroline looked indignantly at Charles, but naked curiosity kept her mouth closed.

‘Go on, say it!’ exclaimed Charles to Caroline, catching her expression. ‘You think I’m an evil bastard who married Cressida for her money! Of course you do. Well, maybe I did. But all I can say now is much fucking good it did me.’ Stephen flinched.

‘Honestly, Charles,’ he said solidly. ‘You don’t mean that.’

‘Don’t I?’ Charles’ eyes were glittering. ‘What would you know? Christ, you start whinging about a mortgage of eighty thousand. Do you know how much we owe?’ He paused for effect. ‘I’ll tell you. A
million pounds.’ He looked round, to see the effect he’d made. Caroline looked astounded. Patrick was looking unsurprised. Stephen was staring down at his knees uncomfortably. ‘Maybe less,’ Charles continued, in a calmer voice. ‘Or maybe more. Our debt is unlimited. We could still be paying out when the twins are twenty-one. Christ knows if we’ll be able to send them to proper schools. But I should think it’s most unlikely.’ His eyes glittered more brightly. ‘How do you think that feels?’ He looked around, and his glance fell on Stephen, bright red with embarrassment.

‘You’re the lucky one,’ he said, without rancour. ‘You’ve got friends who can afford to help you out.’ He looked around. ‘Has anyone got a spare million they can let us have?’ he said, in a mocking voice. ‘We’ll be terribly grateful. And we’ll try to pay it back. Honest.’ He gave a short, painful laugh, tossed a tennis ball, and slammed it hard across the court. Then he threw his racquet after it, slumped to the ground and buried his head in his hands.