by Karen Swan
‘We?’ Rob asked, the word more like a stab than a query, as he rinsed out the cup, his back to her. ‘Is that the royal “we”?’
‘Don’t be a pig, Rob,’ Cat snapped protectively. Rob shot a cold look at the two of them as he walked straight back out again.
‘Please tell me your man’s as grumpy as mine in the morning,’ Cat muttered, her mood noticeably flatter.
The plea floored Laura as she thought of the daily ritual that had kicked off her days until this week: Jack waking her with tea and toast and a host of light kisses. His face came to her in a composite of separate parts – his surf-bum hair, patchy stubble, those clear blue eyes that opened on to a gentle soul – and she felt a flash of dizziness from the strain of keeping up the pretence. It felt like a feat of endurance not to have told anyone that she was drifting, anchorless, without him now. Answerable to no one. Belonging to no one.
Anchee set down in front of her a perfectly poached egg and smoked salmon covered in hollandaise sauce.
‘Oh my goodness, that looks amazing.’
‘Great. You tuck in. I’m just going to finish packing,’ Cat said, rubbing her shoulder. ‘Honestly, I’ve got three dresses I just can’t choose between, and knowing me, I’ll end up taking the lot . . .’
Laura tried not to moan with pleasure as she ate her breakfast alone, and she could feel her body beginning to rally with every bite. Switching her phone on for the first time in four days – and finding her message box predictably full of calls from Fee, which she deleted without listening to – she called one of her suppliers to place an order for twelve extra sheets of gold and three bags of links. Now that the interviews for Cat’s necklace were complete, her mind had begun to scroll over what she needed for the launch party next week. She had a good stock of ready-to-go charms to display, but they needed fixing to chains, and she’d had a couple of ideas too: she’d woken up the night before last with the brainwave of fixing some charms to a giant nappy pin for a bridal ‘something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue’ theme. It would attach nicely to the inside of the gown for the big day and could easily be transferred to a chain for posterity. And what about kilt pins? Each clan had not only its own tartan, but a crest and motto too. There was scope for translation on to charms there too . . .
The ideas flowed quickly as she ate. When her phone rang, she answered without hesitation.
‘Hello?’
‘. . . Laura?’ Fee’s voice came down the line. Except that it wasn’t Fee’s voice, just a pale imitation, tremulous and hollow, lacking the falsetto laughter or gullible wonder.
The fork dropped out of Laura’s hand and fell on to the plate with a clatter.
‘Laura, please, wait! I am sorry! I know what I did was wrong. Please . . .’ Fee gabbled desperately, knowing only too well that her friend was this very moment struggling to disconnect her. ‘I was trying to help.’
Laura gasped in outrage at Fee’s sanctimony. ‘Since when has betraying your best friend’s confidence ever been considered helpful?’ she hissed.
‘I was wrong to tell him – I know that now. It wasn’t my place,’ Fee said pleadingly.
‘Tch, you think?’ Laura asked sarcastically. ‘And how about sleeping with him? I suppose you’ve since figured out that that wasn’t your place either.’
‘You don’t understand—’
‘Oh, I understand perfectly! Everything is very clear to me now. I made a huge mistake thinking you could be my family. I’m better off alone. I don’t need you. I don’t need any—’
Her finger found ‘disconnect’ and pressed it. The phone fell from her hand to the floor and she dropped her head in her arms, holding her breath, knowing that even just to exhale would be enough to open the floodgates. She held on . . .
‘Laura?’
She looked up with a start. Cat was holding out her phone, concern written all over her beautiful face.
‘Who was that?’
Laura met her eyes and Cat’s face fell as she saw the overwhelming expression of heartbreak reflected back at her. ‘Oh, sweetie,’ she whispered, opening her arms out wide.
Laura walked into them and let the sobs come at last.
‘So we’ll meet you in there, then?’ Cat asked Rob, rifling in her bag on the pavement as Laura ducked into the taxi ahead of her and slid along the back seat.
Rob nodded. ‘I’ll change at the office. If you’ve got Laura to walk in with, there’s no point in me travelling all the way over to Kensington only to have to go back to Knightsbridge again.’
‘I promise we won’t be too naughty,’ she pouted.
Rob gave a knowing sigh. ‘Yeah, yeah. I’ll believe it when I see the Top Shop label.’ He threw a quick glance over at Laura as he stepped into his car, but luckily her expression was impossible to read behind the sunglasses Cat had given her to hide her puffy eyes.
‘To South Molton Street, please, driver,’ Cat said as she got in and sat beside Laura. ‘First we shop,’ she smiled, patting her knee. ‘Then we talk.’
Laura took a deep breath, trying to keep it together. She’d been bang on about the floodgates. To paraphrase Paxman, she’d started, so she’d finish, and she felt as barely held together as the Hoover Dam with Sellotape.
‘Have you decided what you’re wearing yet?’ she asked Cat, giving it her best shot at being ‘okay’.
Cat swivelled round to face her excitedly. ‘Well, I’ve got it down to two. The front-runner’s a Marchesa gown I bought in Rome last month. Silk chiffon in that baby, baby pink that’s just so good for us blondes,’ she purred, running her hands down her arms. ‘With waterfall ruffles and a black velvet bow at the waist.’
‘It sounds amazing.’ Laura nodded, utterly hypnotized by just the sound of it. It could have been pudding.
‘Mmm,’ Cat said, wrinkling her nose. ‘But is it just a bit . . . blah?’
‘Well, what’s the other one like?’ Laura asked, sniffing inelegantly.
‘Now that’s the interesting one. It’s a bit out there for a do like this. Everyone will be in full-length, but this is short – I mean micro-short – but it swings out, like a baby-doll style, so it’s not tacky or anything.’
Laura nodded. She knew that if there was one thing Cat didn’t do, it was tacky. ‘What colour?’
‘Grey, but kind of fringed on a jacquard.’
Laura blinked, lost, and Cat laughed at her beleaguered expression. ‘It’s a satin that looks like it’s got distressed feathers on, as though the threads have pulled. It makes you want to tickle your hands against it.’
‘I think I’d have to see it to . . . understand it.’
Cat nodded. ‘I’ll take it in to Browns with us. See how it looks compared with your dress. It might look odd for me to wear short if you’re in long.’
‘I think I’ll probably go short,’ Laura said quickly, surmising that a short dress must surely cost less than long, given the discrepancy in the amount of fabric used.
‘What about your hair?’
‘What about it?’ Laura asked back. Her hair needed a decision? She’d planned just to wash it.
‘Up or down?’
Laura swallowed. ‘What do you think?’
Cat tipped her head in consideration. ‘I’d say down.’
‘So then I’ll go with down.’ Laura sighed with relief, sinking back into the seat. It definitely sounded the easier option.
‘Oh God, and shoes!’
Laura shot forward again. ‘Shoes?’ She’d been planning on wearing some. What was the calamity?
‘I so badly want to wear my new Valentino shoots, but they’d really only go with the Marchesa.’
Laura hesitated. ‘What’s a shoot?’
‘A shoe-boot,’ Cat explained, looking bemused that this wasn’t the common parlance she’d assumed. ‘They’re divine. Black with a sheer gauze over the top of the foot and tying in just the diddiest drawstring below the ankle.’ She sighed. ‘He’s got such an eye for the details. If
that drawstring was just an inch higher and above the ankle?’ She pouted and shook her head. ‘Uh-uh. Entirely different proposition altogether. We can’t all be Bolivian supermodels with legs up to here, can we?’ she giggled.
Laura shook her head, even though Cat was the closest flesh and blood approximation of a supermodel that she’d ever seen.
The taxi pulled up outside a run of boutiques painted in a distinctive clotted-cream colour. Cat paid, not bothering to get either a receipt or change, as Laura hauled herself out of the other door.
‘Ready?’ Cat asked, looping her arm through Laura’s and walking with authority and purpose towards the nearest door.
‘You lead the way,’ Laura smiled, taking a deep breath. ‘I’ll follow.’
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Now she understood why smart restaurants had doormen. Laura smiled gratefully as Scott’s door was held open for her and she walked through sideways, like a crab, to squeeze her bags through. Cat was already kissing the maître d’, her bags abandoned in the middle of the floor in the absolute confidence that someone would pick them up and store them safely for her.
‘May I take your bags for you, madam?’ a waitress asked.
Laura handed them over with the same strangled expression Jack reserved for Fee and a tomato-based sauce; their contents equated to almost two mortgage payments in value and it was a nerve-racking experience letting them out of her sight.
‘Over here, Laura,’ Cat called softly, settling herself at a table by the window. It was one o’clock and the restaurant was already at capacity.
‘Just as well you booked,’ Laura said, looking around at the mushroom-coloured walls, tobacco-leather chairs and plush, deep red flower arrangements on the tables.
‘Oh, I didn’t book,’ Cat shrugged, just as Laura caught wind of the jealous looks being thrown at them by the people sitting along the bar in the centre of the room. A magnificent display of fruits de mer was arranged behind them all on a platter – two-tiered for extra opulence.
Laura looked down hungrily at the menu. Carbs. She needed more carbs. And some fat. But no alcohol. She felt a raging thirst and was desperate for a pitcher of water.
‘I’ve already ordered for us,’ Cat said, patting her menu. ‘I come here all the time and honestly, trust me, the Dover sole is just heaven.’
Did it come with chips, though? Laura wondered as the waiter came over with a bottle of Dom. More?
‘Could we, uh, also have some water, please? Laura asked. Tap would be fine.’
The waiter smiled and went off to find a tap, clearly not sure whether they had one.
Cat raised her glass and waited for Laura to follow suit. ‘To new friends,’ she winked, clinking their glasses together delicately.
Laura sipped.
Cat put her glass down slowly and began brushing imaginary wrinkles out of the beautifully ironed tablecloth. ‘So . . . are you going to tell me? Or shall I guess my way to the truth?’
Laura realized she was holding her breath again.
Cat laid a warm hand over Laura’s, watching the way Laura’s bottom lip wobbled. ‘Okay . . . well then, I’m guessing that this is about your boyfriend?’ she said kindly.
Laura swallowed.
‘And your friend?’
Laura blinked.
‘Getting together?’
Laura sniffed.
‘And you discovered it recently?’
‘Monday night,’ Laura whispered.
‘Monday? This Monday?’
Laura nodded.
Cat’s eyes scanned hers. ‘So what – you just left?’
Laura nodded.
‘Is that why you went to Kitty’s?’
‘No, that was genuine stupidity on my part. I really didn’t know it was going to snow. I never would have gone over if I’d known I’d have to stay. It’s not like they’re not busy enough with five small children and a farm to run.’
‘Mmmm, tell me about it. I hardly ever get to see Kitty now.’
Laura looked at her. ‘You don’t?’
Cat shook her head. ‘She’s had five children in seven years. If she’s not breastfeeding, she’s trying to get them to sleep or doing the school run or going to toddler classes or NCT or . . . I don’t know what.’ She gave a hopeless shrug. ‘It’s almost impossible to just see her any more. She comes with an entourage these days. That was why it was so nice seeing her in Verbier.’
‘Oh, I didn’t realize.’ Clearly, neither did Joe. He’d been too quick to judge. Laura admired him for protecting his wife, but he’d failed to see how it might feel from Cat’s perspective. She’d lost her friend to her children. Ultimately, who had really dumped who?
‘It’s life, I guess.’ Cat arched an eyebrow. ‘And I try to look on the bright side. It also creates room for new friends.’
‘Yes,’ Laura laughed. ‘I guess so.’
They were quiet for a moment, reflective again.
‘Do you think you can forgive them?’ Cat asked.
Laura shook her head. ‘They were all I had in the world. I never knew my father, and my mother died when I was six.’
‘Oh, Laura,’ Cat gasped, upset. ‘How long were you and your boyfriend together?’
‘Four years.’
‘Did you ever discuss marriage?’
‘He did. At least he did to begin with.’
‘To begin with? Hey, most guys don’t go into a relationship looking to get married, Laura. It’s usually the endgame when they’re all out of get-out clauses,’ she quipped, taking a large sip of her champagne.
‘Jack’s different. He wanted to take care of me.’
Cat stared at her. ‘He sounds sweet. Didn’t you want to marry him?’
‘No.’ Her answer was swift and decisive, taking Cat by surprise. ‘There were such good reasons why we should, but it just never felt . . . right enough.’
Cat paused, thinking. ‘By which you mean, you didn’t love him the way he loved you.’
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
‘Do you think he knew?’
Laura looked up at her through her lashes. ‘Yes.’
‘So then maybe that’s why he . . . I mean, I’m not making excuses for him, Laura,’ Cat said quickly, seeing Laura’s expression change. ‘But don’t you think maybe it might have been . . . crushing for him, knowing that he loved you more than you loved him?’
‘Yes.’ Laura’s voice was a whisper. She knew it with absolute certainty. ‘I knew he’d run out of patience with the situation one day. I almost felt like I was waiting for it. I know it sounds weird, but I think the thing that’s almost surprised me the most is how much it hasn’t surprised me – him and Fee, I mean. It never crossed my mind before I found out, and yet now, when I think of them together, it makes perfect sense. They’d be great – I can totally see it.’
‘Damn, you’re nice. Remind me to have an affair with your husband when you marry.’
Laura shot her a pained smile and felt another sharp start of guilt at her actions and feelings for Rob. ‘I’m not saying I forgive; just that I . . . kind of understand.’
‘Were the two of them friends before this?’
‘Totally. We just had our little gang of three. We were so intertwined, I thought nothing could ever break us. I mean, Fee’s always got disastrous boyfriends on the go, but they never last very long. No one could ever really break into our group. We were too bonded for outsiders. But then she started seeing this guy, Paul, a few weeks ago. She was really keen on him, but I kept trying to talk her out of it. I think maybe I sensed she could get serious about him and it made me feel threatened. I didn’t want to lose her.’
‘So instead, she hooked up with Jack last weekend and you lost them both? Great friend she is.’ Cat gave a heavy sigh. ‘I don’t know what to advise, Laura. I mean, I’ve got sympathy with Jack, up to a point. If the relationship wasn’t going to go the distance, then I suppose you knew this day was coming. But sneaking around with Fee b
ehind your back? That’s hardly the way to break it off with you.’ A thought came to her. ‘Unless he deliberately wanted to hurt you. Could he have been trying to make you feel the way you make him feel?’
‘No, Jack’s not like that. He’s not got a vindictive bone in his body.’
‘Well, he’s no saint either, Laura,’ Cat said, squeezing her hand. ‘Don’t make him out to be blameless. There was no excuse for what he did. It’s not your fault.’
Laura looked over at her. ‘But I’m not faultless, am I? I kissed Alex,’ she said quietly.
‘No. Alex kissed you. There’s a difference. You have nothing to feel guilty about.’
Laura looked away as Rob flashed up before her eyes again. She had plenty to feel guilty about it, even though Cat was right – it was nothing to do with Alex.
‘Was it Fee you were talking to this morning?’ Cat asked.
‘Yes.’
‘And what does she have to say for herself?’
‘Not much. She was wrong; I’ve misunderstood – everything I would imagine passes as usual in this type of scenario.’
‘She’ll say whatever it is she thinks you want to hear.’
Laura nodded. ‘I know.’ The tears threatened her composure again, and she hurriedly took a large glug of her drink.
The waiter came over to refill their glasses. Clearly he hadn’t yet found the tap.
‘Is there any chance it’s been going on longer than you think?’ Cat asked when he’d gone again.
‘The affair? No. Definitely not.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
Laura paused. ‘I’m fairly certain it only happened when I broke Jack’s trust.’
Cat fell still. ‘Broke his trust?’
‘One of the reasons I agreed to go to Verbier was because I thought I was pregnant. I confided in Fee about it, but I didn’t tell Jack.’ She sighed heavily. ‘So Fee did.’
Cat gasped. ‘The bitch!’
Laura winced to hear Fee called that, but wasn’t it true? She’d chosen Jack over Laura. She’d made her choice, found a way to lever a crack between them.
‘I just wanted some time, you know? I wasn’t trying to deceive him; I just didn’t know how I felt about it. We hadn’t been trying, and to be honest the topic had never even come up. We’d always just plodded along quite happily, just the two of us. When I realized I was late, I panicked. It meant everything would change and my instincts were telling me it was wrong. But maybe Fee was right,’ she sighed. ‘Maybe I should have told him the second I suspected.’
