Unsuitable Men (36 page)

I did remember. I remembered how he had taken care of me, how much simpler my life had been when I was with him. I hadn’t been tortured by indecision and confusion when I was
Martin’s girlfriend; he was so sure of everything, so confident, that it calmed all of my anxieties. He made the decisions, and that made me feel safe. It would be so easy to go back to that.
Not to have to start all over again with someone new. Not to have to get used to someone else’s quirks, and have them get used to mine. Martin was so tolerant of my weaknesses; would another
man be so understanding? And we had been happy, we really had. It would be hard to trust him again, but perhaps it would be hard to trust anyone again. I could see how much he was trying. And he
was being more patient than I had any right to expect. I couldn’t make him wait for ever.

‘I do remember, Martin,’ I whispered, picking at the label of the ketchup bottle. ‘But I do need time.’

‘As long as it takes for you to decide you’re coming home, Rory,’ he answered gently.

The waitress shimmied past our table, her fringe damp with perspiration, her arms stacked with dirty plates. Martin clicked his fingers sharply to get her attention.

‘’Scuse me, over here – what’s happened to our food? We haven’t got all day, you know.’

Stepping out into the hospital corridor on Sunday afternoon, I called the office to leave a message on Amanda’s phone.

The doctor had said Auntie Lyd would be in hospital for at least another two days, although her recovery had been significantly better than expected. Already she had been able to take an
assisted shower, having haughtily declined the offer of a bed bath, and she had been persuaded to eat some of the snacks that Jim had bought yesterday. Now that Dr Prasad had revealed himself as a
fan of
Those Devereux Girls
I had a slight suspicion that he was keeping Auntie Lyd in as much for his own satisfaction as for medical observation. He became quite giddy in her presence,
especially when she had signed the DVD box set that he had promenaded proudly into the ward.

More flowers had arrived this afternoon, including a bouquet from Amanda Bonham Baillie and the staff of
Country House.
I was touched by this unexpected show of thoughtfulness from my
employers. Given that they were already aware of the situation, leaving a message for Amanda was really only a courtesy call; I was sure she wouldn’t be surprised to hear that I had to stay
at my aunt’s side until she was out of hospital. I dialled the office number and waited for the beep that would tell me to speak. Instead the phone was picked up and Amanda’s voice
barked, ‘Yes?’

‘Oh, er, Amanda, hello,’ I stammered, surprised to encounter a real voice at the end of the line at the weekend.

‘Who is this?’

‘Amanda, it’s Rory Carmichael,’ I said. ‘Sorry to interrupt, I didn’t expect you to be in the office.’

‘Well I am. What do you want on a Sunday evening?’ She seemed rather blunt, given her likely knowledge of why I was ringing, but then I would probably have been more surprised if she
had gone all Samaritans-helpline on me.

‘I – I just wanted to say that I won’t be in the office for a few days, Amanda,’ I said. ‘For obvious reasons. I have to wait for my aunt to be out of
hospital.’

‘Your aunt? What about her?’ Amanda snapped impatiently.

Yes, my aunt,’ I said, now utterly muddled. Had I misread the card? Had the flowers been from
Country Living
instead, or
Country Life
, or maybe even
Country Pursuits
?
There were so many rural publications it was easy to mix them up. ‘My aunt, Lydia Bell. She had a heart attack. You sent flowers.’

There was a long pause. I heard Amanda’s hissing intake of breath, as if she was inhaling through a straw.

‘Your aunt is Lydia Bell,’ she said slowly. ‘Of course, Rory, of course. Do forgive me. I’m a little distracted. A few things are – well, some things are going on
here.’

‘Is everything all right?’ I asked. All thoughts of the office had been wiped from my mind over the weekend; instantly the spectre of redundancy tapped me on the shoulder, reminding
me it had been there all along.

‘Yes, yes, everything under control. Nothing for you to worry about. Take as long as you need. And please do send my best wishes to your aunt.’ In the background I could hear the
clicking of computer keys. I could imagine Amanda now, phone tucked under her ear, her thoughts already moving away from this conversation and back to work.

‘I will,’ I said. ‘Thank you for the flowers. It was really kind of you.’

‘Please don’t mention it,’ said Amanda, sounding embarrassed, and she hung up abruptly. I wondered if I would ever understand how her mind worked. Why send flowers to Auntie
Lyd at all if she was going to be embarrassed about it? I supposed she didn’t like to be seen as having any kind of emotions, in case they revealed a weak spot in her armour.

Back on the ward, Auntie Lyd sat with Percy and Eleanor on either side of her bed, Jim kneeling on the floor next to her. The two actors gazed at her with devotion, and Auntie Lyd beamed back at
them both like a beatific Madonna for aged thesps. You couldn’t mistake this woman, surrounded by her friends, for someone who was sad and alone, I thought, still troubled by Martin’s
words. Although she was pale, Auntie Lyd was magnificent. She laughed at something Jim said and leaned over to ruffle his hair. He was in another one of his dreadful T-shirts –

– and I wondered what on earth had possessed me to kiss him last night. He was so not my type. Of course he was attractive – you’d have to be blind not to see
that – but he was pretty much the definition of unsuitable. A cocky wide boy who probably had a different dolly bird every week. Seeing Martin standing at the end of the bed, sleek in his
expensive grey coat, just reinforced the difference between them.

Martin’s dark head was bowed as he tapped at his iPhone, no doubt taking care of important work business. Even in his weekend clothes he exuded authority. You didn’t need to know
that he was a board director to see that he was unmistakably someone to be taken seriously; a grown-up. It wasn’t just me who thought so. This afternoon I had noticed that the nurses
addressed most of their comments to him, as if his was the opinion that counted. He had subtly taken control of the situation, taking responsibilities out of my hands, offering to drive Auntie Lyd
home later in the week even though it meant time away from his busy job. I might be unsure about Martin himself, but at least I was certain that this was my type – safe, confident, assured.
He looked up as I approached the bed.

‘Rory,’ he said, slipping the phone back into his pocket. ‘Visiting hours are nearly over. I’m going to take you home, and I’ll take Eleanor and Percy
too.’

Jim looked up from his kneeling position next to Auntie Lyd. ‘I can take Eleanor and Perce back, if you like, mate. They might want to stay a little longer.’

‘They might indeed.’ Martin smiled down at him, close-lipped. ‘But visiting hours, as I said, are nearly over. I’ll take them home with Rory now.’

‘Okay,’ said Jim, shrugging. ‘Up to you.’

Martin cleared his throat. ‘I think I speak for the family, Jim, when I say that we are all grateful to you for your help over the weekend.’

Jim gave an embarrassed chuckle and looked up at Auntie Lyd. She patted his hand. ‘No problem,’ he said.

Martin continued. ‘Now that the immediate danger has passed, Jim, and now that I’m here to look after everyone, please don’t feel that you need to spend any more of your time
at the hospital. I’m sure you have a busy week ahead of you with your – plumbing business, is it?’

‘Don’t worry, mate,’ said Jim. ‘I’ve finished at Lydia’s and I’m still waiting for the next job to be confirmed. I’m happy to help out while
I’m free.’

‘But it’s not necessary,’ said Martin sharply.

Auntie Lyd pulled herself up to sitting, her mouth set firmly in a manner that I knew well. Jim moved as if to help her, but she brushed his arm away. ‘I believe I speak for my family,
Martin, when I say that whether Jim’s help is necessary or not, I am happy to see him at any time, either in hospital or in my home. I hope that is clear.’

‘Of course, Lydia,’ said Martin, conceding obediently. I was glad to see that he wasn’t going to argue. He draped his arm heavily over my shoulders and nudged me very slightly
towards the door as a signal we should leave.

‘Rory,’ said Auntie Lyd, holding out her hand towards me. ‘Would you mind very much staying for a little while? Just you?’

I stepped forward to the side of her bed. ‘Of course not, Auntie Lyd, I’ll stay as long as you like.’

Martin coughed behind us.

‘Martin,’ I asked, ‘is it still okay to take Percy and Eleanor back? I’ll catch the bus, it’ll be fine.’

‘Well,’ said Martin, discomfited by this change to his plans, ‘why doesn’t Jim take them back and then I can stay here with you?’

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Eleanor’s hand steal into Percy’s, embarrassed at being an inconvenience.

‘Of course,’ said Jim, straightening up to standing. ‘My pleasure, mate.’

‘I’d like Jim to stay too,’ said Auntie Lyd quickly.

Martin smiled tightly. ‘In that case I’d be delighted to escort Eleanor and Percy home. At your service, Lydia.’

I helped Martin gather up Eleanor and Percy’s belongings, and walked with them to the lift. Martin’s polite affability didn’t hide from me the fact that he was annoyed. It
seemed that his keenness to offer help was less deeply felt when I wasn’t its direct recipient. I made sure to kiss him goodbye, on the cheek, and he said he’d call me later.

When I went back to the ward Auntie Lyd was alone.

‘Where’s Jim?’ I asked.

‘I sent him off to get us some tea,’ she said, settling back against the pillows. She straightened the yellow blanket and pulled it up her lap.

‘Now,’ she said. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s happening with Martin?’

Trust Auntie Lyd not to pussyfoot around the issue, I thought. And here I was trying to keep everything calm and serene around her.

‘He wants you back, doesn’t he?’ pressed Auntie Lyd, when I failed to answer immediately.

‘Yes,’ I admitted.

‘And what has happened to Miss Bathroom Products?’

‘He says that’s over. He says it didn’t really mean anything to him at all.’

‘Is that enough?’ she asked.

I sighed. ‘I don’t know, Auntie Lyd. It shouldn’t be. But I’ve missed him so much.’

She nodded and said nothing.

‘He’s been really great this weekend,’ I offered. ‘So supportive.’

She nodded again.

‘Do you think he’s changed?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Can people ever really change?’

‘Yes,’ she said, to my surprise. ‘They can.’

‘Right,’ I said uncertainly. I had expected her to be firmly against giving Martin a second chance, and yet here she was seemingly encouraging me to get back together with him.

Auntie Lyd turned her head away from me and looked at the flowers that surrounded her bedside. The small pot of primroses had, I noticed, been moved to the table next to her.

‘Auntie Lyd, who’s Paul?’ I asked, very quietly, so that she could pretend not to hear me if she didn’t want to answer.

She answered without looking back. ‘Someone I used to work with, darling, I told you that.’

‘Someone – someone you were in love with?’ I asked carefully.

‘Yes,’ she said.

If I had been Ticky I would have pushed my advantage here; gone in for the kill. This was the most I had ever heard Auntie Lyd speak about her personal life; I hadn’t dreamed she would
answer my questions. Instead I stayed still while she continued to stare at the flowers.

Her head turned slowly towards me, and her eyes were oddly bright, almost feverish. ‘You ask me if people can change. Paul is the reason I know they can.’

‘Who was he, Auntie Lyd?’ I asked.

Auntie Lyd sighed deeply and smoothed the blanket again on her lap. ‘Paul Johnson was my agent,’ she said softly, her eyes gazing at the ceiling. ‘Linda’s too. Quite the
big shot at the time.’

Her voice drifted off and her eyes half closed. I wondered if she was falling asleep again. Outside the drawn curtains the ward doors opened and a trolley rattled in, someone asking if anyone
wanted snacks; it seemed to startle her out of her reverie. Her eyes snapped open.

‘Married, of course,’ she said, her voice no longer dreamy but harder. ‘But unhappily so, he told me, he only stayed for the children. I know, I know how it sounds, but
it’s hard to see these situations when you’re in the middle of them. For four years I waited for him to leave her. For four years we made plans. He bought the house in Clapham for us,
you know? Put it in my name as a sign of his commitment to me. He was going to move in when he left, far away from his family home in Kensington. Make a new start together.’

She closed her eyes again for a brief moment.

‘We’d named our children, even. Of course I felt terrible about his wife, but I told myself these things happen. People marry the wrong person. You can’t stop a love like ours.
Silly lines straight from
Those Devereux Girls.
He wasn’t a man cheating on his wife, he was a man in love. Our passion was too strong. Ridiculous, really.’ She laughed
bitterly.

‘Only Linda knew the whole story. I hid it from everyone, even your mother. Then Linda told me Paul had made a pass at her. I didn’t believe her, and we had a terrible fight. She
said he was cheating on me, too, with anyone who’d have him. I said she was jealous, wanted him for herself. I walked out of
Those Devereux Girls –
told them I wouldn’t
work with Linda any more.’

‘What did Paul say?’ I asked.

‘Furious, of course,’ said Auntie Lyd. ‘Not just about Lin’s accusation but, well, there went his ten per cent when the show got cancelled. But I told him I’d done
it for us. I thought that showing him I would give up
Devereux Girls
for him, that I’d make a huge sacrifice like that to show my loyalty to him, would make him leave his marriage at
last.’