We go to Chichester for the day, and we go to look at the new flats, which are a bit pokey, if I’m honest, but I don’t plan on living there myself, so I guess that doesn’t matter. We discuss at some length whether it’s worth paying extra for the sea view. (It’s a pretty distant view.) We have lunch with Angela and Jeff, and dinner with Xanthe and Rob. I’m relieved that Edward is at his most charming, and they all seem to like him. Angela is wide-eyed when I help her fetch dessert, whispering, ‘Jesus, Thea, you didn’t say he was…’
‘Was what?’
‘Well, you know. Really good-looking.’
‘Oh, that. Didn’t I?’ I’m amused.
‘No, you didn’t. Jesus.’
‘Lucky he’s a grumpy sod, or he’d have been snapped up years ago.’
‘He absolutely doesn’t seem to be grumpy,’ she says, handing me a stack of dishes.
‘Yeah, I’ve cheered him up a bit, I think.’ I grin at her.
‘Bloody hell. Time I stopped feeling sorry for you.’
This makes me laugh. ‘I definitely don’t need your sympathy.’
‘I should think not.’
Twenty-Eight
It’s nearly April. In a fortnight, it will be the anniversary of my arrival.
I’ve had an idea, and it’s time to discuss it with Edward. I wait until breakfast on Sunday, when we’re lounging in the sitting room drinking coffee, with the spring sunshine falling all round us.
‘I thought maybe we should have a party,’ I say, cautiously.
He looks up from reading the paper on his phone. ‘A party? Good grief, are you mad?’
‘I know. Not a massive one. Just a few people. You know. We’ve been to dinner with some people, and–’
‘Yes, and if I’d realized having a girlfriend would mean being polite to my neighbours…’
I tilt my head at him. ‘Yeah? You’d what?’
‘I’d have accepted it grudgingly.’
I look at his irritable expression until he can’t hold it any longer and grins at me. ‘You’ve ruined my life,’ he says. ‘I used to be miserable all the time and now I’m forced to be happy.’
‘I’m going to ignore all that. Anyway, I thought, I’ve been up here a year, nearly. I’d like to do something to celebrate that. We could have some people round for drinks, and make party food… It needn’t be too awful.’
‘Hm.’
‘Otherwise it’s a series of dinner parties.’
‘No.’
‘That’s what I thought. Even though you’re a great cook and it’s a shame. But we could get through everyone, if we had drinks. All at once, I mean.’
‘Who would you invite?’
I begin listing people. After about fifteen or so, I say, ‘And I thought perhaps – only perhaps, so hear me out – maybe we could invite your brother?’
‘Why the hell would we do that?’
‘Because I get on okay with him, and it would be easier for everyone if you two could be in a room together.’
‘It’s not my fault we can’t be.’
This causes me to choke. ‘Oh my God. Yes, it is. Jesus Christ. You slept with his wife.’
‘Oh yeah.’
I laugh so much I go limp, sliding down the sofa cushions and hiccupping. He watches me, smiling, until eventually I manage to open my eyes properly and wipe away the tears. ‘Oh God. Well, now I’ve reminded you of that tiny fact. I don’t suppose he’d come, but if we invite him, we’re making a gesture, aren’t we, and maybe next time–’
‘You mean we’ll have to do this more than once?’
‘Edward Maltravers. However much I might like to sit up here and barely speak to anyone, that’s not how things work. It’s good to have friends, and it’s useful, and I’m not giving up my tiny social life just because I live with Mr Misanthrope.’
‘Huh.’
‘Huh yourself. Can I invite him? And whoever he’s seeing if he’s seeing someone?’
‘He won’t come.’
‘No, so there’s no risk, is there?’
He looks at me, considering. ‘What if he does?’
‘It’s not like you’d have a fight, would you? Wouldn’t that be a bit rude? I mean, to me. For him to bring it up. Would he bring it up? I can’t imagine he would.’
‘Hm.’
‘No, but he wouldn’t, would he? When I told him we were seeing each other, he didn’t really comment.’
‘What could he say? Don’t?’
‘He more or less said that once before. After you sacked me. He told me you were a shit.’
‘Pfft. He’s not wrong.’
‘Yeah, and I told him you said he was one.’
‘Ha.’
‘Anyway. What do you think?’
He looks thoughtful. ‘I think you’re right – he won’t come. Invite him if you like. If he does come, I can handle it.’
‘When was the last time you spoke?’
‘God knows. Possibly when he shouted, “Are you sleeping with Carolyn?” at me.’ He laughs and then tries to look serious. ‘Sorry. I know that’s not funny.’
‘Jesus.’
* * *
The flat is full of candlelight and the smell of canapés. We’ve been busy, everything’s polished and shining warmly, music plays, the dining room and sitting room are tidy and beautiful, full of people chatting, laughter. I feel very grown-up. I found a lovely dress on the internet and Edward looks… I know he’s my boyfriend, so obviously I find him attractive, but I keep looking at him in astonishment. He looks fantastic. He grumbled about ironing a shirt and polishing his shoes and said, ‘Why does it have to be formal?’
‘It’s not really formal, is it? It’s only people we know. You don’t have to dress up.’
‘You’re dressing up.’
‘I just have a nice frock.’
‘You’ve had your hair cut.’
‘Yes, but–’
‘And you look gorgeous.’
‘Thanks–’
‘I don’t want to let you down.’
I smile. ‘As if you could. You always look great.’
He doesn’t always look this good, though. Whenever I catch his eye, he winks at me exaggeratedly because I told him he looks hot.
We’ve not had anyone round since we’ve been together. Not that we ever had people round before. I admit I’m not that sociable, but I’ve always tried to fight my desire to sit in and read all the time. I have to work harder up here too – these aren’t people I’ve known for twenty years plus, after all; they could easily drop me if I don’t make an effort. No one turned us down, all intrigued, I should think, to visit the flat and see us together. Even Charles accepted, much to my surprise and Edward’s irritation.
‘You don’t have to talk to him,’ I said.
‘Huh.’
‘Well, you don’t. He knows everyone else, doesn’t he? Just say hello. Be charming, I know you can do it.’
‘Pah.’
‘It’s only for a couple of hours,’ I coaxed. ‘Then they’ll all be gone and I can make it up to you.’
‘Oh yeah. And how are you going to do that?’
‘I don’t know. You see if you can think of anything.’
* * *
‘Charles is very drunk,’ I say. ‘I’ve never seen him like this.’
‘Me neither,’ says Jenny.
‘I shouldn’t have invited him. I feel pretty stupid.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘And Edward’s furious.’ I wring my hands.
‘He’ll get over it. Do you want me to talk to Charles?’
‘No, you go and make sure everyone’s happy, got enough to eat. I suppose I should call a cab or something, he can’t drive home in this state, can he?’
‘You’ll be lucky to get one.’
‘Bloody hell. Honestly, I hate drama,’ I say. ‘I’d better go up and make sure he’s not passed out or…’
I hurry up the stairs. The crashing from the bathroom
has stopped. I’m worried he’s trashed it, though, or been into the bedroom or something. I’m not sure how we got to this point; everything seemed to be going so well.
‘Fucking idiots,’ I mutter. Edward stamped off downstairs earlier and if there weren’t guests here, I’d have gone after him. Not that he should need going after, for God’s sake – he’s an adult. Allegedly.
I tap on the bathroom door. ‘Charles? Charles, are you okay?’
Silence.
I rattle the handle, and the door, surprisingly, opens. No sign of him. ‘Oh,’ I say. ‘Where are you?’
Don’t be in the study, I think, a sudden image of Charles tearing up Edward’s notes or breaking his records. But he’s not in there, either, or in our bedroom. I open the door of the larger of the spare bedrooms cautiously. ‘Charles?’
It’s very dark, which makes me think he must be in here because someone must have drawn the blind. I reach for the light switch.
‘Don’t put the light on,’ he says.
‘Come on now, you can’t hide up here in the dark. Or do you need to lie down? You can if you like. Or I can see if I can get you a cab, or call Lynda?’
‘She’ll be in bed. I can drive myself.’
‘I don’t think you can,’ I say, peering into the gloom. ‘Or at least, you shouldn’t.’ I can’t tell where he is, but I sort of assume he’s sitting on the bed. He isn’t though, because when I step further into the room, he shuts the door behind me. I turn round quickly, but I still can’t see him. He must be standing in front of the door; the narrow line of light from the landing is obscured on one side, where the hinges are.
I’m suddenly rather nervous, although at the same time that seems silly. Doesn’t it? He’s practically my brother-in-law, after all.
For some reason this doesn’t reassure me even slightly.
‘Now I can’t see anything,’ I complain, trying to sound calm. ‘What are you doing up here anyway?’
‘I hoped you’d come to look for me,’ he says. He doesn’t sound as drunk as he did earlier.
‘Well, here I am, looking – or trying to look – and I wish you’d open the door.’ I peer into the gloom, the darkness pressing felt-like against my eyeballs.
‘I don’t want to.’
‘I can’t stay up here in the dark with you, Charles. There are other people here, you know.’
‘You should be doing your hostess thing.’
‘Yes, I should.’
We stand in silence for a moment.
‘Nice for Edward,’ he says.
‘What is?’
‘That he’s got you and I’ve got nothing.’
‘Oh bloody hell,’ I say. ‘Come on, don’t be–’
‘Don’t be what? Don’t be fucking furious? Too late.’
‘Charles–’
‘He ruined my life,’ he says. ‘What about if I ruin his?’
‘Charles. You know he felt like you already had, that’s why he… You know all that stuff didn’t come from nowhere.’
‘I don’t care about that. I want to know what he’ll think about you being up here with me.’
‘Yes, I expect he’ll be annoyed,’ I say, trying to remember where the furniture is in here, and whether there’s anything I could maybe hit him with. Of course, I would be in one of the only two rooms in the house with no flipping books.
‘If I told him we’d had sex,’ he says, conversationally, ‘do you think he’d believe me?’
I do something that can only be described as a full-body eyeroll. ‘Oh my God. No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because he’d believe me,’ I say, ‘wouldn’t he? And I’d tell him we hadn’t.’
‘What if we did?’
‘Can you stop talking like this? And let me out? There’s no point in any of this. I’m sorry I invited you,’ I add. ‘I hoped you’d be able to get past all the–’
‘You think I’ll be able to get past my brother sleeping with my wife?’
I roll my eyes again, not that he can see me.
‘It’s a long time ago. I know you were upset, and who can blame you? It was an awful thing to do. But he’s right when he says she can’t have cared that much. It’s easy to avoid having an affair with your brother-in-law, you know. It isn’t only Edward’s fault.’
‘And what about the others?’
‘None of them would have slept with him if they didn’t want to, would they? Come on, try to be objective about it. I’m sure it’s horrible to think about, but seriously.’
‘And how’s that supposed to make me feel? That anyone I care for would cheat on me with my brother?’
I sigh. ‘It’s supposed to make you feel like shit, isn’t it? I’m not defending his actions.’
‘You don’t care. It doesn’t bother you that he could do something like that?’
‘I was shocked when he told me,’ I say, ‘but it’s not like he’s proud of himself. Your relationship was messed up before he ever slept with’ – I search for the name of the first one – ‘Tasha, or whoever. Wasn’t it? He says he did it out of revenge and so you should probably think about why he wanted to be revenged. I mean I think it’s awful, and melodramatic, but it’s also a long time ago. How long have you and Carolyn been divorced? Eight years?’
‘Yes.’
‘You need to stop fixating on it. It’s difficult for me,’ I complain, ‘trying to be friends with you as well as being Edward’s… girlfriend.’ It still feels odd saying this. I’m much too old to be someone’s girlfriend.
‘You’ll have to choose then, won’t you?’
‘I don’t know what you want me to say. That’s pushing me, isn’t it? And you know if I had to choose, I’d choose Edward, because I…’ Again, I pause, feeling awkward. ‘Because I love him.’
‘I know you do. And he loves you. It’s all very cosy.’
It’s odd having this conversation in the dark. I bet if he could see me, he wouldn’t be able to say any of this. I sigh, irritable. ‘For God’s sake. What’s that supposed to mean? No one did any of this deliberately. None of this has been like some great mysterious plan or anything.’
‘But you still chose him.’
‘That makes it sound like I had to pick between you and we all know that’s not true.’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Jesus Christ. You took me out to dinner, and I told you I didn’t believe you had any real interest in me. I still don’t. This is about you and Edward, and it’s just unfortunate for me that I’m the one in the middle, when it could easily have been… I don’t know, Lara or someone.’
‘He didn’t care about Lara.’
‘No, that’s not my point. My point is–’
This is where the hammering on the door begins.
‘Thea? Thea, are you in there?’
‘Oh, and now look,’ I say. ‘Now there’s going to be a ridiculous scene and you’ve spoiled my evening.’
‘Go away,’ Charles yells, ‘we’re busy.’
‘Oh, for Christ’s sake.’ I move closer to the sound of his voice and push at him. ‘Get out of the way. Edward!’
‘Thea – what the hell’s going on?’
‘I suppose you think you’re clever,’ I say, kicking at Charles’s shins. ‘Charles won’t let me out,’ I add, louder. ‘And it’s dark.’
‘Open the door,’ says Edward.
‘Leave us alone. I told you, we’re busy. Ow, stop kicking me,’ he hisses.
‘I shan’t. Get away from the door.’ We tussle in the darkness. I’m pretty angry, to be honest. I’m worried about Edward’s temper, and about being stuck in here in the dark with Charles, and I manage to thump my fist on the light switch and we stand blinking at each other.
‘Now get away from the door,’ I say, and pull at his arm. He steps towards me and the door opens.
‘What the fuck–’ says Edward.
‘Oh thank God. Look, I don’t know what to do with him,’ I say, ‘he’s–’
But now they’re glaring at each other, toe to toe.
‘What the hell’s going on in here?’
‘Yes,’ says Charles, ‘it’s not pleasant to catch your girlfriend in a bedroom with your brother, is it?’
‘Oh, for GOD’s sake,’ I say. ‘You two are–’
It’s a bit late though, because Edward punches Charles, who staggers backwards and sits down rather unexpectedly on the bed. He looks surprised and puts his palm to his nose.
‘Jesus Christ,’ he says, slightly muffled.
‘Yeah, well don’t shut yourself into bedrooms with my girlfriend,’ says Edward. He looks at me. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes, I’m fine. Just quite angry because this has nothing to do with me.’ I jab my finger at Charles. ‘I don’t wish to spend the rest of my life wondering if you’re going to try and sexually assault me–’
‘Jesus Christ,’ says Edward. ‘He’d better not have laid a fucking finger on you–’
I grab for his arm. ‘No, he didn’t, and I don’t really think he was going to. But that’s not the point. You can’t carry on like this. I’m sorry I tried to get you to behave like grown-ups when it’s clearly beyond you.’
Edward puts his hands on his hips and snorts derisively. We all glare at each other for a long moment. Then he says, ‘All right, I wish I hadn’t done it. I know it was a shit thing to do. It only made me feel better for ten minutes.’
‘What?’ says Charles.
‘Sleeping with Carolyn. I fucked that up for you. I shouldn’t have.’ He glances at me. ‘There,’ he says.
‘Okay, good,’ I say. ‘Charles, did you hear that?’
‘Of course I heard it.’
‘No. Did you hear it?’ I bang my hand on my chest. ‘Did you feel and believe it?’
‘I… No.’
‘Again,’ I say, imperious.
Edward sighs heavily. ‘It’s true though. I mean it. I did it on purpose, and I was glad I’d done it at the time. I wanted to hurt you and I was glad I’d managed something so spectacular. But it didn’t last long, that feeling. Because it wasn’t any way to fix the stuff that was broken.’
The Bookshop of Second Chances Page 33
