The Perfect Happiness

by Santa Montefiore

  Finally, Candace shook her head and grinned. “How do you do it!” she exclaimed. “Just when I think you’ve exhausted every possible drama, you find another one even more entertaining than the last.”

  Kate giggled. “She pulled out the drawer and handed it to me in a bag, wrapped in paper. Can you imagine? It was horribly embarrassing. Someone had actually wrapped it up!”

  “Did Amelia take it out and show everyone in assembly?” asked Scarlet.

  “Thank God her teacher got to her before she got into assembly. As it is, I’m never going to live it down!”

  “What did she say it was for?” Letizia added.

  “Oh, I should think she thought it was a clever little massage device,” said Candace with a cackle.

  “Do you think Mrs. Moncrieff knew what it was?” asked Angelica.

  “Oh yes,” Kate replied. “She knew exactly what it was. She suggested I find a more suitable place to keep it. I wanted to die. I couldn’t look at Amelia’s class teacher. I couldn’t look at anyone. You can bet the whole school knows about it by now.”

  “It’s hilarious,” said Scarlet.

  “For you!” Kate reminded her. “For me, it’s a nightmare.”

  “What are you going to say to Amelia?” Angelica asked.

  “I’m going to tell her that she mustn’t take Mummy’s things into school.”

  “Tell me, what does the vibrator look like?” Candace asked.

  “A rabbit,” Kate replied.

  Candace shrugged. “Easy mistake.” She sipped her tea.

  Scarlet grinned over her mug. “Tell me, does it rock?”

  29

  Surrender to the flow of life.

  In Search of the Perfect Happiness

  Angelica couldn’t shake off her suspicion that Olivier was having an affair with Kate. She recognized the irony, but still, the idea that her husband had betrayed her with one of her closest friends was like a knife to her heart. She clung to him at night, wrapping her tentacles around him, waking in the early hours to check that he was still there. He assumed her neediness sprang from the robbery, not from her fear of losing him. The more she thought about it, the more she regretted her own affair and the more she realized how much she loved him.

  Olivier started coming home earlier in the evenings, and they bathed the children together and took turns reading to them. She listened to his worries and tried to give advice, or at least support. He, in turn, went into her office and took down a paperback copy of The Caves of Cold Konard. At first he read a little every night, and she knew he was struggling, but she was grateful for his effort. But then he kept the light on later and later as it became harder to put it down. “I just have to find out what happens to Mart!” he exclaimed, without taking his eyes off the page. Angelica grinned into her own book with pride.

  Then, on March 5, Olivier mentioned her birthday over supper. “I thought you’d forgotten,” she said, pleased that he hadn’t.

  “I thought we could go out for dinner at Mr. Wing.”

  “Sure.” She had rather hoped for something a little more exciting.

  “I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to arrange anything better. Why don’t we go and spend a weekend in Paris in spring? A kind of belated birthday weekend.”

  “I’d love that.”

  “We can go shopping, and you can choose something . . .”

  “I don’t need a present,” she said humbly, knowing that now was no time for extravagance but disappointed all the same.

  “We’ll choose it together. Have the girls planned anything?”

  “I haven’t mentioned it. To be honest, I’ve been busy, too . . .” She thought of the book she had to write and the wasted hours staring at her e-mail, willing Jack to find a way of contacting her. Hoping he’d make the effort in spite of all the obstacles she had erected to stop him. “I wouldn’t expect them to remember.”

  “Well, I’ve remembered, and the children have got something for you.”

  She smiled at the thought of Joe and Isabel’s gifts. They’d be more precious than anything bought in a shop.

  The following morning, the children woke her up to cries of “Happy birthday, Mummy.” They had made cards and plates at the Pottery Café in Fulham. Isabel’s was prettily painted in pinks and blues with butterflies and flowers around the edge and one glorious bumble bee in the middle. Joe’s was a mess, but Angelica could make out a red train, puffing smoke. She cuddled both children, holding them for as long as possible before they wriggled away. Nothing could beat those delightful plates; she would hang them on the wall in her study.

  Olivier was already dressed for work. He kissed her tenderly. “Be ready at seven-thirty. I’ll come home early to change. I’ve reserved Mr. Wing for eight.”

  She walked the children to school, bumping into Candace as she left them at the door. “Happy birthday!” she said, Ralph straining at his lead as he attempted to follow a scruffy little bitch down the pavement.

  “Thank you!” Angelica was surprised.

  “So what’s Olivier got you?”

  “Oh, nothing yet. We’re going to go to Paris in the spring. He’s busy at the moment.”

  Candace pulled a face. “Too busy to buy you a present? Honey, there’s a Tiffany in the City.”

  “Don’t tell me!”

  “Is he taking you somewhere nice tonight?”

  “Mr. Wing.”

  “A Chinese?” Candace crinkled her nose in disgust. “I think he could do better than that.”

  “I love Mr. Wing.”

  “We all love Mr. Wing, but not on our birthday.”

  “Oh, it’s fine,” Angelica said, laughing it off. “Things are really good between us now—I shouldn’t complain. At least he didn’t forget.”

  “I’d take you out for lunch if I didn’t have a meeting.”

  “I’ve got to get down to some writing anyway.”

  “Go have a massage or something.”

  “Not today. I’m not in the mood.”

  “I’ll see you at pickup.” Candace gave the lead a yank and Ralph loped back reluctantly.

  Angelica returned home and took a cup of tea up to her office. Claudia called at nine to find out how the book was doing, impatient to see what she had written so far. Angelica lied and told her she was halfway through it. Her mother telephoned to wish her a happy birthday, and Daisy called, suggesting they have lunch together. Angelica didn’t hesitate but invited her to Le Caprice, thrilled to be doing something exciting on her birthday.

  She scanned down her e-mails, disappointed to find that Jack hadn’t written. She couldn’t remember whether or not he knew it was her birthday. She had asked him not to contact her, and he had obviously respected her wishes. She had to summon all her strength to restrain from e-mailing him. She longed to find out how he was. But he was dying, with Anna at his side, guiding him towards the last leg of his journey home. There was no room for her there. It was well and truly over.

  She opened her novel about the greasy Troilers who live on the estuary, and turned on her iPod. Engulfed in grief, she channeled her feelings into her novel. Her resentment formed the ugly, slimy Troilers; her love, the weightless, phosphorescent Dazzlings. The story would be an allegory of her love for Jack, and no one would ever know that but her. The music carried her into her fantasy world, where she gave vent to her emotions and thus created a captivating story where love battles to save the world from evil. She knew her theme was not original, but equally no one else could write it like she could.

  After an agreeable lunch with Daisy, during which they had laughed about their ludicrous botanical names and their parents’ disastrous attempts to hold on to their youth, she picked up Joe and Isabel and brought them home for tea. She hadn’t seen any of her other friends, and none of them had called, which surprised her. Kate had prided herself on remembering birthdays; after all, she had remembered Olivier’s, Angelica thought bitterly. The least she could have done is remember hers. Sunn
y bathed the children as she showered and slipped into a black Prada dress. As she applied makeup and sprayed herself with scent, she reminded herself that happiness was a state of mind. That the quality of her life depended on the quality of her thoughts. If she dwelled on the negative aspects of her day, they would only pull her down. Instead, she concentrated on the positive things: The fact that her children had gone to such trouble to make her cards and presents. The fact that Candace had remembered her birthday. The fact that she had made peace with Daisy. The fact that she was now close to her mother. The fact that Olivier hadn’t found out about her affair. The fact that she had such good friends. The fact that her husband and children were healthy. The fact that she had so much to be grateful for. After a while it began to work. She lit her scented candles and played Back to Black by Amy Winehouse. Her spirits rose with the perfume and filled the room.

  When Olivier appeared, he found her in the bathroom singing loudly. He came up behind her, pulled her hair aside, and kissed her nape. She laughed at him in the mirror. He was handsome in the golden glow of the candlelight. She was surprised when he placed a pendant there, fastening it at the back. The diamonds fell against her chest, glittering against the black of her dress. She gazed admiringly at the heart that rested behind the letters O, J, and I, dangling on the end of a thick white-gold chain. “You’ve been to Chopard,” she said, astonished.

  “Of course. I know that there is nothing that excites a woman more than diamonds.”

  “How very right you are,” she replied, turning round to kiss him tenderly. “Thank you.”

  “You look more beautiful than I have ever seen you, my darling.”

  “I’m ready for Mr. Wing.”

  He scoffed. “As if I’d take you to Mr. Wing!”

  She stared at him. “Where are you taking me?”

  “A surprise.”

  “Oh my God. I’m already surprised!”

  “You’re going to love this one.” He took off his jacket and tie. “Give me a few minutes to shower and change, and then we’ll go. There’s a car waiting for us outside. Tonight, I intend to party hard!”

  So he had never intended to take her to Mr. Wing. It had all been a ruse. She couldn’t wait to tell Candace.

  Olivier appeared on the landing in a pair of jeans, a white shirt beneath his favorite gunmetal blue Gucci jacket. His skin was brown against the collar and his dark hair still wet and tousled, pushed off his forehead. He took her hand and they walked downstairs together. She decided that she would forget about his supposed affair with Kate and enjoy the evening. Tomorrow she would confront him and hopefully dispel her fear once and for all. If he admitted it, she would cope somehow. She would not let it destroy her marriage or her friendship with Kate. Anna had proved that was possible.

  They climbed into the back of the car. It pulled out into the street. The trees were still bare but the park was full of crocuses and daffodils, the air warmer, the days longer and brighter. Angelica was exhilarated with the suspense. She smiled all the way down Kensington Church Street, trying to work out what restaurant he was taking her to from the direction of the car. When they turned into Thurloe Square, she realized they were headed to Kate’s.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

  “I promised to pop into Kate’s on the way. She’s got a present for you.”

  “This is all very fishy.”

  “She’s bought you something special. She called me tonight on my mobile. She said she hadn’t seen you at school today.”

  “No, but she could have called me herself.”

  “You know Kate,” he said. Angelica wondered whether he knew her better than any of them.

  The car drew up outside the house, and they stepped onto the road. Kate had changed her window box, filling it with an elaborate display of red geraniums. Before Olivier had time to ring the bell, the door swung open. A uniformed butler stood at attention. “Good evening, sir,” he said. “May I take your coat?” Angelica was more suspicious than ever. She slipped out of her sheepskin and handed it to the butler, who folded it over his arm. “Mrs. Fox is in the drawing room.”

  The house was strangely quiet. Angelica noticed that the double doors were closed. She could feel the silence of a room full of people seeping out from beneath them. The butler strode ahead and flung them wide to reveal a sea of faces before her, all smiling in the semidarkness. None was more radiant or triumphant than Kate’s. “Darling! Happy birthday!” She waddled over in the sexiest little Miu Miu dress, her big stomach protruding like a globe, and embraced her affectionately. Angelica swept her eyes over her friends, all of them, even her parents, Daisy, and the terrible Jenna Elrich, who had somehow inveigled her way into the party. Kate had even found friends she had lost along the way. “Are you surprised?” Angelica nodded, dumbfounded. “I’m so pleased no one gave it away. Olivier and I have been planning this for weeks, tracking down your old friends. I had a horrible feeling Joe and Isabel might let the cat out of the bag. I could have sworn they were sitting on the landing listening to our secret meeting.”

  Angelica hugged Kate again, for the guilt of having doubted her and for the relief that now overpowered her. “I thought you had all forgotten.”

  “Good!”

  “And it’s not a big birthday, either.”

  “Every birthday is big in importance, and besides, this is my year of being generous. Make the most of it while it lasts. I’ll be back to Selfish Me next year.”

  Angelica wrapped her arms around Olivier. “Thank you,” she said. He would never know the depth of her gratitude.

  Candace approached her with Letizia, Scarlet, and Tod. “Fooled ya!” she said, handing Angelica a glass of champagne.

  “You guys!”

  “As if we’d forget your birthday,” said Letizia.

  “I should have known,” Angelica replied, taking a gulp of champagne.

  “Honey, what’s with the diamonds?”

  “Olivier’s present.”

  “Now we’re talking,” said Scarlet.

  “They’re way over the top!” Tod added. “I thought we were in the middle of a financial crisis.”

  “I know. I can’t imagine what got into him,” Angelica laughed, toying with the sparkly letters.

  “Absence makes the heart grow fonder!” said Letizia.

  “And I thought he was having an affair with Kate.”

  “What?”

  “Isabel mentioned that Kate had come over while I was away. I just couldn’t understand why they were meeting at all and why neither had bothered to tell me.”

  Candace put her arm around Angelica. “That’s a stretch of the imagination too far!”

  “Kate would never betray a friend,” said Letizia.

  “Only her husband!” Scarlet added.

  “I thought that baby might be Olivier’s.” Angelica’s relief made her almost delirious with happiness.

  “Why wouldn’t it be Pete’s?” Tod asked, confused.

  Angelica put her hand to her mouth. “You don’t know?”

  The three women looked at each other guiltily. “I would have thought she would have told you!” Angelica gasped.

  “Told me what?” Tod’s bewildered expression spoke volumes.

  “Okay, here’s the deal, but don’t say a word.” Candace looked at him steadily. “Kate had a one-night stand. The baby she’s carrying might or might not be Pete’s. There, I’ve let the great big jungle cat out of the bag. If it bites us, we’ll blame you!”

  “Christ! That’s heavy,” said Tod, scratching his head.

  “Don’t think you’ll get a name out of her. She hasn’t told a soul. But at least we can rule out Olivier,” said Scarlet with a laugh.

  “I won’t breathe a word,” he assured them. “For God’s sake, don’t let on that I know.”

  “Are you kidding me!”

  “Happy birthday, darling,” he added hastily, looking past her. “Now I’ve got to go an
d tell Art.”

  “We are in serious trouble,” said Letizia anxiously.

  “Can Art keep a secret?” Angelica asked.

  “It’s not Art I’m worried about,” said Candace. “Tod clearly can’t.”

  After the buffet, Kate stood on a chair and clapped her hands, demanding silence for her speech. The noise died down, and everyone waited. She stood there in the tightest jersey dress that barely reached midthigh and patted her pregnant belly fondly. “Good friends, old friends, new friends, special friends like you, Angelica, Scarlet, Letizia, and Candace, and family friends, Daisy and Angie. Welcome to my humble abode, and thank you for keeping the party a secret and making it fabulous with your glittering presence. Angelica, you’re very dear to me. You’re a true friend, so I wanted to return your kindness with a party to celebrate you. Your birthday is a good excuse, but frankly, I would have done it on any other day for the simple pleasure of honoring you. You’re loyal, you’re wise, and in spite of you being a little absentminded, you never forget your friends. Please, raise your glasses to Angelica!”

  “To Angelica,” they all repeated. Angelica blushed with pleasure.

  Kate leaned over and took Edmondo’s hand. “And just in case you think this isn’t about me, you’re wrong. I couldn’t let an opportunity like this pass me by. Can you please raise your glasses to Edmondo and me, the future Contessa Edmondo Augustino Silviano di Napoli.”

  “Yes! Edmondo and I are getting married.” She looked sheepish a moment and giggled. “Well, as soon as I’m divorced!”

  “To my wife to be!” said Edmondo, raising his glass, and no one had any choice but to follow suit.

  As soon as the speeches were over, the dancing began. Kate remained in the center of the dance floor, which had been set up downstairs in the children’s playroom, swinging across the wooden floorboards with her count. Angelica drank too many cocktails in a bid to forget the last party she had attended here, when Jack had waited for her in a taxi down the road. In a blissful alcoholic haze she allowed Olivier to sweep her onto the dance floor. After one in the morning, when most of the guests had gone home, Art took to the karaoke machine, singing “Crazy.” At least this time he didn’t pull down his trousers to expose his strawberry.