A Married Man Part 37

So - why hadn't Jack acknowledged me then? I wondered feverishly, incapable of letting it drop. Why hide? A hazy summer mist threatened to turn to drizzle on the windscreen and I impatiently flicked it away with my wipers. Why hadn't he got up the moment David had said my name, come to the door; why hadn't he taken me by the shoulders, rea.s.sured me, agreed I was doing the right thing by going to London? Was he really so appalled? So embarra.s.sed? It was almost as if he was hiding behind that chair because I'd thrown myself at him or something, because he was feeling distinctly morning-after-the-ghastly-night-before-ish.

My G.o.d - my hand flew to my mouth. Had I thrown myself at him? Christ, maybe I had. Shamefully I recalled my toe-curling opening gambit - 'Are you going to kiss me?' -and the blatant surprise on his face. And not just surprise, either, but amus.e.m.e.nt, I decided, going hot. I cringed. How could I have said that, like some pathetic, vapour-sniffing Gothic novel heroine, and to Jack, of all people! Jack, the practised seducer, the genius of sensuality, the accomplished lover with a girl on each arm, another hanging on his everyword - no wonder his eyes had danced so uproariously. No wonder he'd practically guffawed in my face.

And - why now? I wondered desperately. Why was I suddenly so attracted to him now? I breathed in sharply and swerved violently on the A40. Was I attracted to him? I gripped the steering wheel as a juggernaut threatened to go up my backside, eyes wide with alarm. Yes, very, I decided, as a piping hot flush washed over me. But - how bizarre, when I'd known him for - well, for ever. Why had I never taken such an unreasonable shine to him before? Or had I? I surveyed my past critically, determined to be scrupulously honest. Well, I'd certainly known he was considered attractive, but I'd never considered him so myself because - well, he was too flippant. Too wayward. Too flighty. Not a man to be taken seriously. Not a man like Ned, for instance, and besides, he was almost like a brother, it was practically indecent!

But then again, wasn't it true that he'd always had the power to unsettle me? Wasn't it true that a cold look from Jack could rattle my cage, unnerve me, make me feel small? And let's face it, he'd had plenty of opportunity to do that recently. I recalled his censorious eyes following me round London as I'd chased after Charlie in a skirt the size of a belt. G.o.d, I'd been so obsessed with that man. Wanted him at all costs, even though he was palpably wrong, just as - well, just as Jack was palpably wrong, for crying out loud!

I thumped the wheel in frustration and groaned. Oh terrific Lucy, really terrific. Another unsuitable candidate. Talk about the sublime to the downright ridiculous. Another serial philanderer. Look at the way he dropped Trisha like a cup of cold sick. Look at the way he couldn't even face you this morning, tucking himself away behind that chair, unable to conquer his colossal embarra.s.sment. The man has the moral sensibility of an alley cat he's downright fickle!

Or was it me that was fickle? I asked myself with a sudden, secret qualm. Had I become so desperate for a man I'd clutch at anything, even Jack? My reaction to Kit's veiled proposition yesterday came back to haunt me. Unthinkable! I'd stormed indignantly on the way home. So soon after Charlie why, it was insulting! And yet hours later, there I was, down on a rug, with ... I swept a bewildered hand through my hair. Glanced in the rear-view mirror. Max was nodding off on the back seat, his head on Ben's shoulder. And that was another thing, I thought suddenly. Jack was practically the boys' uncle, another reason for him to avoid me. And naturally he'd thought that through. Thought Hang on, Lucy and I are friends, related by marriage. The boys adore me, but when I dump her they won't, so do I want to ruin all that? Haven't I got enough women beating a path to my door without that sort of mess on my doorstep? And given the amount of desirable totty around, aren't I actually rather pushed as it is? Hmm... no thanks.

I sat up straight, gritting my teeth, flexing my aching shoulders. So. He was finishing it before it had even begun, was he? Dumping me on day one. Of course, quite right and sensible. And that's what I'd be, next time I saw him. Sensible. And distant. Friendly, of course, but retain perfect sangfroid. Forget it ever happened. Forget Jack. 'Jack.' I murmured it softly, just as an experiment. A tubful of adrenalin shot up the back of my legs. My heart gave a foolish skip. I gulped, and tried desperately not to think about lying in his arms by thefire, his breath on my neck, his hands in my hair, his 0000h ... I moaned low, gave a little shudder, and gripped the wheel. Suddenly I shot nervous eyes in the rear-view mirror. Ben was watching me.

'All right, my darling?' I gasped, baring my teeth in a parody of a smile.

'Yes, thanks,' in a small voice.

'Good, good. Max asleep?'

He looked across. 'Almost.'

I smiled some more. He looked pinched, I thought, as I tried anxiously to study him closer. Stealing glances at him d.a.m.n nearly put us across the central reservation though, so I retreated to the slow lane for a bit. Drove more soberly. After a while, I took a deep breath.

'Urn, Ben, about last night. You went to bed in the barn, I take it, because you weren't sure where you were sleeping, is that right?'

He stared at me in the mirror, silent.

'And Granny came down and babysat down there,' I persevered, 'presumably because you'd already got into bed and she didn't want to disturb you, is that it? And then, well what I'm wondering is, when the fire started-'

'Mummy, I really don't want to talk about it.' His voice wobbled.

I glanced in the mirror, taken aback. 'All right, darling, no. No, fine, of course not,' I said quickly. 'I was just trying to get the sequence of events in my head. But I can quite see, you don't want to talk about it. Yet'

I licked my lips, worried. He seemed so incredibly b.u.t.toned up. So tense. Natural, of course, after a terrible shock like that, but why had he gone to bed in the barn, without Trisha? Yes, OK, he'd said he'd thought she was coming down later, but surely he'd have gone and found her, if he was that tired? He wouldn't have told Max to go to bed and then climbed in himself without someone there. No small boy goes to bed voluntarily. He'd have stayed up with the adults, at Netherby, until told to do otherwise, wouldn't he? Something didn't quite ring true here, didn't make sense, but I couldn't probe further. Not yet. Couldn't have that white face turn even paler on me.

After a while I turned on the radio. Hummed along with forced jollity.

'Ben,' I smiled into the rear-view mirror. 'If Max is asleep, why don't you come and sit beside me in the front? Then we can chat.'

He hesitated for a moment. 'OK.'

He undid his belt and clambered over. Snapped himself in. 'So!' I said cheerily. 'Lucas and Maisie's for a bit. That's pretty cool, isn't it?'

He smiled and a spot of colour came to his cheeks. 'Adults don't say cool, Mum. It sounds sad.'

'Ah' I nodded. 'Sony.'

'So, do they know? Maisie and Lucas? Have you rung them?'

'I have, and they're thrilled to bits, darling.'

Sort of true. Kind of. I'd briefly had a word with Maisie, in the ten minutes or so we'd had at Netherby before David had come upstairs to find us; hustling the boys down to the car which he'd kindly brought round to the back door, then coming back upstairs again, popping his head into my room tosee if I was ready. Hovering impatiently in the doorway while I'd been on my mobile to Maisie.

'I'm coming, David,' I'd whispered, hand over the mouthpiece. 'Literally, two minutes.'

He'd nodded, but hadn't moved. I'd gone back to Maisie. She'd been delighted of course, because she hadn't seen me or the boys for so long, but surprised too.

'To stay? Why yes, love, of course!'

'Is that OK?' I asked anxiously, briefly turning my back on David, ostensibly pulling the green cover over the bed I'd slept in. 'I mean, you haven't still got the nurse? Or a lodger?'

'Neither,' she purred happily. 'In fact I'm much, much better. Found a marvellous h.o.m.oeopathic remedy which works wonders, so I don't need the nurse, and I'm bored with lodgers, they make even more mess than I do. We'd love to have you all, but why so sudden? And for how long?'

'I don't know,' I said nervously, gazing out of the window at the blackened ruin on the hill. 'Sort of indefinitely, at the moment. There was a fire. At the house. At our house'

Out of the corner of my eye I saw David discreetly move back away from the door into the pa.s.sage.

'Oh!' She could instantly tell that I couldn't talk, or wouldn't talk. 'Well, as long as you're all all right,' she said hesitantly. 'That's the main thing.'

'We're fine,' I a.s.sured her quickly. 'But Maisie, something terrible. Rose is dead.'

'Good G.o.d!'

There was a long silence. I heard David clear his throat quietly.

'Oh, Lucy darling, how appalling! I don't know what to-'

She broke off. I gave her a moment. Then: 'Maisie, I must go now. The boys are waiting.'

'Yes, yes, fine,' very faintly.

And we'd left it at that. I could imagine her worried face though, as she put the phone down; saw her huge blue eyes, wide and anxious, as she pulled a hanky from her sleeve, twisted it in her hands, went to find Lucas, to tell him. Saw her hasten out to him in the garden, reading under the lilac tree in his favourite spot, saw him lower his book, worry lines appearing round his eyes. Rose dead. Ghastly. And Lucy in trouble again. Oh dear. Coming home. And they had good cause for concern too, because what on earth was I going to do? I couldn't stay with them for ever, could I, so where would we live? Would I qualify for a council flat, I wondered, boggling slightly at this. Social security even, or 'What school am I going to go to, Mum?'

I swallowed. 'I'm not sure, darling.'

'Not the one in Oxford, then?'

'Urn, no. Not that one.'

'My old one?' Hopefully.

'Um, still not quite sure. Quite a long way from Burlington Villas, Ben.' Crazy. Too far. Out of the catchment area, too.

'A new one then?' he said nervously. 'In Westbourne Grove?'

'Haven't really decided.' I gripped the wheel hard. Felt hot. 'With a dyslexia bit, like the one in Oxford?'

'Hope so.'

'And are we still going to live there for ever? At Lucas and Maisie's, I mean?'

More wheel gripping. 'Ben, what we're going to do is,we're going to play it by ear. Which is so exciting, isn't it? Not make any firm plans yet, but make plans 000h, I don't know. In a day or two, say. OK?'

He glanced at me. Gave a worried half-smile. 'OK.'

I breathed out. Finally. But it was a long, shaky breath, and I didn't relax behind the wheel for the rest of the journey. Felt my body, tense, as rigid as a board as we wove our way across London.

Maisie was waiting at the front window when we arrived, her sharp eyes guarding the dustbins she'd used to save us a parking s.p.a.ce. She hurried out to move them when she saw us. I got out of the car and fell on her, hugging her hard, tears br.i.m.m.i.n.g as I blinked into her faded red hair. Maisie. My mum. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed her, or what a huge relief it was to be here. I glanced behind her at the recently painted, slightly crooked, thin, tall house, with its window boxes crowded with as many weeds as plants since Maisie entertained all comers. Home. My childhood home, I thought, bursting with the same nostalgia Ben clearly felt for the flat. I smiled and brushed my damp eyes.

'You've painted it pink.'

'Apricot actually, to match my hair, although Lucas says it clashes. What d'you think?'

'Interesting,' I smiled, head on one side.

'I thought so too. Now come on Ben, Max, my chickens,' she bent to hug them. 'My, how you've grown in a few short weeks! Just as well actually because I need a couple of big strong lads. I'm wrestling with some copper pots I want to sell, but they're covered in gunk and muck, so I thought we'd set to in the garden with the Bra.s.so. Quite a lot of elbow grease is required and your grandpa's got his nose in a book as usual, so I'm relying on you. Come on, come in!' She tossed the empty dustbins effortlessly over the low brick wall and led the way.

'Still got the stall, then?'

'By the skin of my teeth,' she grimaced, as she hustled us up the brick path, overgrown with nasturtiums and dandelions.

We went through the front door and down the familiar dark pa.s.sage. It was crowded as usual with stacks of chairs, lamps, books, pots and baskets, all piled in precarious, tottering paG.o.das, and all, like most things in the house, with dangling price tags, since Maisie oscillated between wanting to fill her stall and not being able to part with her precious wares.

'You boys are in your usual room at the top of the house,' she called as she weaved ahead down the hall to the kitchen, expertly avoiding the flotsam. 'So take your things up and then come down for cake and tea.'

'We don't have any things,' said Ben flatly.

Maisie turned, fl.u.s.tered. She looked from Ben to Max. 'But of course you don't,' she said, rallying. 'How exciting! Golly, I wish I could start again from scratch, get rid of all this rubbish. Just think of the fun you'll have buying it all'

'Oh cool!' Max's eyes lit up. 'Can we do that tomorrow, Mum? Buy lots of stuff?'

'Er, I think we'll wait and see what the insurance company has to say first,' I said nervously. 'Why don't you run upstairs and bags your beds though?'

'And I'll take you on a little spree of my own tomorrow,' promised Maisie. 'We might even go to that car boot sale in Maida Vale, rummage around and find some old Beanoalb.u.ms. Oh, and if you are popping upstairs, you might just look under the pillows' She contrived to look perplexed. 'I think I might have left some Smarties up there.'

'I'm by the window!'

'No I am!'

They thundered up, pushing and shoving, happy to be back on familiar territory.

'Everything's gone?' whispered Maisie incredulously as she led me into the kitchen. Lucas was settled in an old Windsor chair by the range, reading.

'Everything.'

'But you and the boys are all right,' said Lucas, standing up and putting his book down, embracing me. I smelled pipe smoke in the folds of his shirt. 'And that's all that matters. That's the main thing, eh love?'

'Exactly,' I agreed, raising a weary smile as he patted my back. I felt exhausted suddenly, now that I could relax, now that I was here, and headed gratefully for a chair. Just terribly, terribly tired. I flopped down at the table and a great wave of fatigue broke over me.

Maisie and Lucas bustled around putting the kettle on and getting cake out of clanking tins, exchanging anxious glances over my head. I pretended not to notice and gazed about, mentally ticking off comforting, familiar items; the dresser, bursting with willow pattern china, photos, and grandchildren's drawings. The faded oil cloth on the table. The chipped enamel jug with its fistful of wild flowers. As my aching eyes roved gratefully around, I spotted the book on Lucas's chair, realising with a jolt that it was the same one Jack had been so engrossed in, except this was the hardback. I recognised the name, Jason Lamont. Slightly trashy I'd have thought for Lucas, hardly the usual Kierkegaard.

The window rattled in its frame as a train went past at the end of the garden, and I smiled as Lucas looked incredulous. It had done that for thirty years, because my father had never quite got round to fixing the catch, yet he still managed to look astonished. I heard someone clatter down the stairs and turned to see Ben, in the hall, picking up my car keys from the table, opening the front door and heading down the path to the car, probably to get the few remaining books and toys that happily had been in the boot and escaped the fire. All that remained of his possessions. The front door slammed behind him as it always did, because the spring was too strong, and Lucas hadn't quite got around to sorting that out, either. Lucas managed to look baffled as Maisie grimaced over her teacup. All part of the marriage ritual.

'Good cake,' I affirmed, biting into it, astonished I was hungry. But then again, I hadn't eaten for G.o.d, how long? Hours? Days? The recent past seemed such a blur, as if everything was already long ago.

'The usual Dundee, but I might try one of those Nigella ones now the boys are here. They like to help if it's chocolate.'

'Help lick the bowl, you mean,' I said, grateful we were still talking cakes, and not fires or Fellowes yet.

We munched on in silence and I knew they were waiting for me to open up, to gush it all out, tell them in my own time. My throat felt dry, constricted though, and I knew I'd cry.

I glanced down the pa.s.sage to the front door. Ben had been gone for quite a while and I began to feel nervous. Presumably he had just gone out to the car. He wouldn't go off oranything, would he? I made myself finish my piece of cake, telling myself he'd be back by the time the last crumb had gone. Be back, ringing the bell. Up on the wall, the old school clock ticked away the seconds. The radio was on low, so there was the faint background hum of The Archers. I forced the last sultana down and pushed my plate away, quickly got to my feet, knocking my chair over in my haste, just as the doorbell rang.

'Ah!' I breathed, gazing down at my startled parents with a mixture of relief and triumph. 'See?'

Lucas picked my chair up in surprise and I saw him shoot a troubled look at Maisie.

'Coming, darling!' I called, as the bell went again, with typical eight-year-old impatience.

I marched smartly to the door, and when I opened it, there he was, flanked by a young couple.

The girl was pretty and sweet-looking, with curly blonde hair and a pink and white complexion, very much in the Fra Angelico mould, and the man, slightly older; tall, slim, wearing a grey suit, and with a narrow, intelligent face. He smiled.

'We found this little chap in the road. I believe he belongs to you?'

'Oh! Thanks' I drew Ben in quickly and grinned. 'Playing with the traffic, was he? I'll have the law onto me. Come on, Ben.'

'We are the law.'

I blanched. Laughed nervously. 'Yeah, right.'

In the silence, I suddenly realised where I'd seen the man before. In the back seat, being driven fast up the gravel to Netherby, as I left in the opposite direction. Racing up the steps to the front door. I swallowed.

'From Oxford?'

'That's it.' The smile was still in place.

'Well you'd better come in,' I fl.u.s.tered, standing back to let them through as Ben ran off down the pa.s.sage. 'Gosh, sorry, if I'd known you wanted to talk to me I'd have stayed on at the house. Archie said it wasn't necessary, that you'd already been and-'

'Oh quite, and to be honest, it's just a few routine questions. Won't take a minute.'

Maisie's anxious face appeared around the kitchen door. 'Ben says the police are here.'

'It's all right, Maisie, just a few questions. Won't take a moment, apparently.'

They smiled down at her apologetically. She responded faintly, shutting the kitchen door.