The Perfect Happiness

by Santa Montefiore

  Her line of vision was suddenly blocked by Olivier, who stood before them in a navy Gucci suit and sensible tie, his face ashen in the candlelight.

  “Bad day at the office?” Joel joked in French, patting him firmly on the back.

  Angelica watched him unbutton his jacket and sit down. He blew her a weary kiss. The table all began to talk at once. Angelica’s French wasn’t very good, but she wasn’t listening anyway. Her telephone vibrated with another message. I’m bored stiff. Wish I could sit with you! Without hesitation she typed back: They’re all speaking French! Mine is terrible. X She was exhilarated when he replied instantly: Meet me at ten by the restrooms. She lifted her eyes and bit her bottom lip. Yes.

  The remainder of the meal passed in a blur. Every time she looked at her husband she could see Jack sitting behind him. They caught eyes once or twice, but Angelica was quick to look away, afraid that Olivier would notice and turn to see whom she was flirting with. Antoine and Roberto were old friends of Olivier’s, and, in spite of being charming and good-looking, they had the unattractive habit of speaking across her. She was weary of the financial crisis, but Antoine and Roberto both worked in the City and found the subject hard to resist. She rolled her eyes at Carla, Antoine’s wife, who was being ignored by Joel for the same reason. She glanced at her watch to see that it was nine-thirty. Half an hour to go, she thought impatiently, picking up her wineglass and taking a sip. Her stomach churned with nerves. A dish of grilled sole was put in front of her, but she didn’t feel hungry.

  “Don’t you think you should leave your work in the office?” said Chantal to her husband.

  “I apologize,” said Joel good-naturedly. “We’re boring the girls.”

  “They might be bored to listen, but they are not too bored to spend,” said Roberto without humor.

  Veronica, his wife, rose to their defense. “There is nothing more boring than not spending.”

  “Darling,” Roberto cut in, his Italian accent comic, “it is worse than boring—it is a disaster. I predict that wives will take lovers when their husbands no longer make the money for them to whittle away.”

  “You must think us all very shallow,” said Angelica stiffly. “Most women are,” Roberto continued. “I am afraid to say that a vast majority of women marry men for their money.”

  “I married Antoine for his genes,” said Carla. “I needed to erase from the gene pool my father’s family’s famous nose. Antoine has the nose of a Greek god.” They all looked at Antoine, and he dutifully lifted his chin.

  “I married Olivier because he is a good lover,” said Angelica, aware that she was about to deceive him.

  Olivier preened. “What can I say, boys?” He laughed, the color now returning to his cheeks. “I might lose my money, but I’ll always be a good lover.”

  Angelica glanced at her watch and placed her napkin on the table. “Excuse me,” she said, getting up. “Won’t be a minute.” As she passed Olivier, he took her hand.

  “Where are you off to?”

  “The ladies’.”

  He pulled her down and whispered in her ear. “You’re the best-looking girl in the room.”

  She glanced at Carla, Chantal, and Veronica, none of them famed for their beauty. “Not a great deal of competition,” she replied, then walked off in the direction of the powder room, too frightened to glance at Jack, who watched her go and placed his own napkin on the table.

  She walked downstairs, unsteady with nerves, and stood there waiting, heart pounding with anticipation and fear. It wasn’t long before Jack appeared. Neither could contain their exhilaration at finding themselves in the same restaurant. “The Fates are on my side,” he said, drawing her into his arms and kissing her cheek. Her head spun, but she didn’t hurry to pull away.

  “This is an incredible coincidence. Out of all the restaurants in London.”

  “I love Harry’s. It reminds me of my misspent youth.”

  “How much of it did you misspend?”

  “Not enough.” He devoured her features from behind his glasses. “So are you going to meet me in the park tomorrow?”

  “Don’t you have any work to do?”

  “Sure, but when there’s a will there’s a way. Actually, I don’t have a meeting until the afternoon. Why don’t we walk around the Serpentine? A morning stroll. I like to be near water; it is good for the soul.”

  Aware of the little time they had and reckless in his presence, she replied hastily. “Why not?”

  “I’ll bring some bread for the birds.”

  “I thought dogs ate birds.”

  “This one is a benign dog; you should know that by now.” He looked at her in that intense way of his.

  “And no chasing rabbits?”

  “Why would I want to do that, when the most desirable rabbit is right here?” He raised his eyes to see Veronica, Chantal, and Carla coming down the stairs towards them. “You’ve got company. I’d better go. See you in the café on the Serpentine at ten.” Before she could reply he had disappeared into the gents.

  “We’ve decided to leave them to it,” said Chantal.

  “Men can be so boring,” Veronica complained.

  “Let’s go outside. I need a cigarette,” Carla suggested. “Besides, it’s far too hot in here. Look at you, Angelica, you’re burning up.”

  Angelica was indeed burning up, but not because of the heat in the club. She waited for them to come out of the ladies’ room, then followed them back upstairs and outside, where the cool night air chilled her cheeks and the darkness hid her desire.

  11

  Have faith and you will succeed.

  In Search of the Perfect Happiness

  Angelica walked to the park, hands in pockets, her Moschino navy peacoat wrapped tightly around her. The sun shone golden in the autumn sky, setting the tops of the trees alight in a blaze of oranges and reds. The air was crisp and fresh, the roar of the morning traffic rising with the flight of pigeons. She put her head down, letting her hair fall about her face to hide her shame. It was useless denying her intention. She was on her way to meet the man with whom she was now falling in love.

  Biting her bottom lip, she considered Olivier, her children, and her comfortable life. She hadn’t done anything wrong—yet. Jack was merely a friend. Her life was still safely in her grasp, in one piece. She knew the consequences of having an affair; she had seen them in the shattered lives of friends who had been through the mangle of the divorce courts. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want to lose Olivier.

  There was still time to walk away, but Jack’s allure was too great. Surely it was possible to enjoy his company without sex? To look from afar and dream of another life without having to taste it? He lived in South Africa. As painful as it was to think of his leaving, it was also a relief; the distance would save her from herself.

  She reached the café by the Serpentine a little early, so she sat on a bench and watched the ducks. She smiled as she thought of his promise to bring bread. She still derived pleasure from feeding them with her children, and he clearly did, too. It was an attractive quality to enjoy the natural world. Olivier only ever noticed birds when he had a gun in his hands. A jogger ran by, his breath misty in the morning air, his face red with exertion. A group of young mothers with toddlers in strollers sat drinking coffee at a round table in the sun, their eyes red-rimmed with exhaustion. Angelica remembered interrupted nights and was grateful that her children were now old enough not to disturb her sleep.

  Then Jack came striding purposefully through the trees, and she stood up to meet him. He waved when he saw her, his face creasing into a joyous smile. She felt at once uplifted, her heart filled with light. She waved back, glancing around furtively to see if she was being watched.

  “I feel like a schoolgirl playing truant,” she said when he reached her. But he pulled her into his arms without a care for secrecy and kissed her cheek. The electricity of his touch was so powerful that she caught her breath. In that brief moment she
forgot all about Olivier.

  “You look like a schoolgirl playing truant.” He laughed. “Relax.”

  “Did you bring bread for the ducks?”

  “Of course.” He delved into his coat pocket and passed her a plastic bag of bread crumbs. He watched her dip her fingers in and come out with a handful. “So how was last night?”

  “Dull. All anyone wanted to talk about was the financial crisis.”

  “I nearly fell off my chair when I saw you walk into the club. You looked like a silver angel floating through the darkness.”

  “I didn’t see you when I came in.”

  “I saw you. God bless mobile telephones, and God bless you for breaking the rules and leaving it on.”

  “I always leave it on vibrate in case the children need me. It was an extraordinary coincidence.” She threw crumbs onto the water and watched the ducks swim swiftly over to eat them.

  “I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I can’t take my eyes off you now, either.”

  “Really, you are funny.”

  “You always say that when you’re embarrassed. It’s an endearing defense mechanism.”

  “It’s just that I’m not used to being complimented.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  “Really, I’m not.”

  “Look, I’m holding back here. If I could, I’d shower you in compliments.”

  Her heart accelerated like a trapped bird’s. “I thought we were just going to be friends.”

  “We are. I never said I wouldn’t say what’s on my mind.” He took her hand, sending a shiver all the way up her arm. “You know how I feel.”

  “I’m still surprised that you can talk so openly about your feelings. Men usually don’t. They’re usually muzzled.” She slipped her hand out of his grasp.

  “Englishmen perhaps, not South Africans. But I’ve learned to say what’s on my mind because I might never get another chance.” He poured the last crumbs to the pavement, where a gaggle of fat pigeons waited eagerly to peck them up. “Let’s walk.”

  They set off around the pond. The water shone like a gilded mirror as the sun rose higher in the sky, and Angelica felt the warmth on her face. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, reluctantly putting her hands in her pockets so that he couldn’t hold one, wishing that they were in some distant city so he could.

  He took a deep breath. “Very beautiful.” They walked on in silence, taking in the glory of such a magnificent morning.

  “I’m mad, you know,” she said after a while.

  “I know. You’re married. I’m married. What we’re doing is crazy. But I can’t help myself. If I can’t be your lover, I’m content to be your friend.” He laughed and shook his head at his own dishonesty. “No, I’m not content to be your friend. I’m smitten with you, and all I can think about is making love to you. Don’t say I’m funny and brush me off with a laugh. I’m not at all funny. I’m a very sad man.”

  “Jack . . . don’t . . .” She remembered his lover in Clapham. Perhaps Scarlet had got it wrong.

  “Listen, I’m a terrible flirt. I’m the first to admit it. But this is beyond a flirt and a first for me, if you can believe that. I’m walking into unknown territory with a great big forbidden sign hanging across the pathway. But I know that if I don’t seize the moment, it might never present itself again. Life is short.

  “You have a wife, Jack, and children. Let’s just be friends. Isn’t that what a really wise sage would advise?”

  “If that’s all you’re prepared to give me, then I have no choice but to accept. I’d rather see you as friends than not at all.” He bent down and picked up a small stone, throwing it into the water so that it bounced three times before sinking. “It’s wrong of me to try to persuade you to give me anything more. I’m going back to South Africa on Friday. I wish you could come with me.”

  “You know that’s impossible.”

  “I’d say come out with Olivier and your children, but I don’t think I could stand to see you both together.”

  “I’d never get away with coming out on my own.”

  “So it’s walks around the Serpentine.” He looked away. “Why do I have to meet you at this time in my life?”

  “If we had met fifteen years ago, we might not have liked each other.”

  He looked back at her, his eyes dark and sad. “Oh, I’d always have liked you.”

  They changed the subject and discussed the previous evening. Angelica made him laugh as she imitated her friends. He told her of the people he would introduce her to in South Africa—fun, bohemian people who didn’t talk about finance, but discussed books and films and art. “As ironic as it is, you’d get on very well with my wife.”

  “I don’t think I’d want to meet her. Not now.”

  “We haven’t done anything wrong except declare a mutual attraction.”

  “That would be reason enough for Olivier to explode into a jealous rage!”

  “Anna would shrug it off with a smile.”

  “Broken on the wheel, I suppose.”

  “Indulgent, actually.” She didn’t like the sound of Anna, or the look on his face when he spoke about her. “Take me out of the equation, and you two would find you had a lot in common.”

  “I’ll never know,” she replied tightly.

  He grinned as if he could see her jealousy as colors swirling around her head. “I’m flattered you mind.”

  “I don’t mind, actually. You can tell me all about Anna if you wish.” Her voice sounded tense even to her.

  “She’s not a beauty like you, but she’s beautiful on the inside. There are many different ways of loving, and I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t love her. I don’t know you well enough to love you, but I’m in love with you, and right now I think about you more than I think about anyone.”

  “Am I meant to take that as a compliment?”

  “Yes, the fact that I’m being honest with you sets you apart from any other woman I’ve ever fancied. It’s easy to tell someone you love them to get what you want, but that’s not love. That’s desire, lust, attraction, or fascination. You only start to truly love someone when you fall out of love with them, when you love them in spite of their faults, most often because of them.”

  “Well, that is honest, I suppose.” She felt her spirits sink.

  “It’s the greatest compliment I can give you.”

  “Then it’s true to say that I love Olivier. I’m not sure that I’m in love with him anymore. Wouldn’t it be nice to experience both at the same time? The constant comfort of love and the exciting thrill of in love. Are you in love with Anna?”

  “No.”

  “But you love her. So surely you don’t want to hurt her?”

  “No. I don’t want to hurt her.”

  “Wouldn’t she be hurt if she knew you were, as you put it, falling in love with me?”

  “I think she would.” He stopped walking and rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at the sky as if he’d find an answer there. Finally, he shook his head and stared at her thoughtfully. He suddenly looked old. “It’s complicated, Angelica. I wish I could explain, but if I did, I’d ruin the magic of our meeting. Right now, all I really care about is being with you. I’m aware that I’m leaving soon, and I want to feast my eyes on you for as long as I can before I go. I wish we had met twenty years ago.”

  “I was a very unattractive twenty-year-old,” she replied with a laugh, relieved that they weren’t going to talk about their spouses anymore.

  “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  “You’d have tossed me a glance and moved on to someone prettier. I know your type.”

  “Then if you believe in karma, what goes around comes around. You are my penance for all the irresponsible flirting I’ve done over the years.”

  “I’d hate to think of myself as a penance.”

  “I’ve met someone I really want but can’t have. That’s the most bittersweet penance there is.”
>
  “I imagine a man like you has women tucked away in every corner of the globe.”

  “I don’t tuck people away, and I don’t intend to. If you think this is a game to me, you’re wrong. It might have started out as an entertainment, but it’s got a hell of a lot more serious.” He thrust his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t plan to fall in love, Sage. Not at this stage in my life.”

  They sat on a bench beneath a chestnut tree, watching the world move around them. People met and parted, and Angelica wondered how many were illicit meetings like theirs. By lunchtime neither could believe that three hours had gone by. In an effort to prolong the morning, they found a small café in Knightsbridge and ate a simple lunch of smoked salmon and salad. Angelica no longer worried about being caught. Having lunch with Jack felt like the most natural thing in the world. She didn’t glance around like a fugitive but focused on his gentle brown eyes and listened intently to everything he said. If anyone had bothered to look at them, they would have thought them lovers by the way they gazed at each other, oblivious to the rest of the city, and by the natural way he occasionally took her hand or played with her fingers, and by the way they laughed with such abandon.

  In a short time they’d both return to their separate lives. It seemed incomprehensible sitting there together that they had lives beyond each other. But that time eventually came. Jack had an appointment, and Angelica had to pick up the children from school. Their conversation dwindled as they felt the heavy anticipation of their parting. He took her hand across the small table and leaned towards her. “I want to see you again before I go.”