Pippa frowned. ‘Doesn’t even rhyme …’
‘It probably doesn’t have to!’ I shrieked. I was getting a bit hysterical now. ‘The really nasty ones probably don’t, to make them more sinister.’
‘Now, Polly, you really are overreacting. I’m sure there’s some perfectly simple explanation. Just relax, will you?’
‘Easy for you to say,’ I muttered grimly, ‘you’re not the one she wants to kneecap.’
Suddenly I had an idea. I curled up defiantly on the sofa and buried my head under a cushion.
‘I feel sick.’
Pippa regarded me severely. ‘Polly, Amanda is a friend of mine – you can’t stand her up. You’re meeting her in a crowded pub, for heaven’s sake; there’s absolutely no way you can come to any harm. You’re going, OK?’
I stayed rooted to my cushion for a moment, then stupidly looked up and caught her eye. It was enough. I banged my head on the arm of the sofa and groaned.
‘OK,’ I muttered, ‘I’m going.’
Chapter Twenty-two
Half an hour later, feeling like death in a sweatshirt and clutching a warm tonic water to my chest, I perched nervously in a corner of the crowded pub. I watched the door, wide-eyed with apprehension, and every time it opened I jumped off my chair. After ten minutes of this rather tiring, bottom-numbing gymnastics, I decided I’d had enough. I drained my tonic and looked at my watch. Ten past nine. Surely I’d done my bit? I’d waited a while and she hadn’t shown – couldn’t I creep off home to bed with impunity now? Two more minutes, my conscience told me, then I’d be away.
I sat back and a couple of likely lads propping up the bar leered over in my general direction. They had to be very desperate or very drunk – I looked like something out of EastEnders. I glared back and scratched my chin with my wedding-ring finger, wishing I had a T-shirt with ‘Bog off I’m pregnant’ written on it. They leered again, had a quick confab and looked perilously close to swaggering over, which frankly was all I needed right now. I glared as icily as I could and was just about to pick my nose to really put them off when the door opened and Amanda walked in. I was almost pleased to see her.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ she breezed, with not too much of a murderous smile, ‘got a bit held up.’ She eyed my empty glass. ‘Blimey, you’ve obviously been ’ere ages, sorry ’bout that. Another gin?’
‘Er, just a tonic, please.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Not like you, is it?’
I smiled weakly. ‘No, I suppose not.’
She shrugged. ‘OK, back in a mo.’
She put her case down, flung her jacket over the back of a chair and elbowed her way determinedly to the bar, taking no nonsense at all from the two grinning idiots supporting it and looking like a woman who was used to pushing people out of the way. I couldn’t help noticing that her arms looked awfully strong in her skimpy black T-shirt, in fact she looked worryingly fit all over. I wondered if she worked out? Pumped iron or something?
I reached nervously for a cigarette, not to smoke, you understand, just to fondle. Recently I’d found that it helped just to be in contact with one, to hold it, gaze at it and basically reassure myself that this was just a temporary lull in my smoking career, that they hadn’t disappeared from my life forever. I was nervously smelling one and rolling it around in my hands when Amanda came back. She put the drinks down and pulled a lighter out of her pocket.
‘’Ere.’ The flame flickered in my face.
‘Er, no, it’s OK,’ I said, putting the ciggie back in my bag. ‘I’ll smoke it later.’
She sat down next to me. ‘I’ve got masses if yer short.’
‘No, no, I’ve got loads, it’s just that I’m – trying to give up.’
‘What’s this, Polly, no gin, no fags, not pregnant or anything, are you?’
‘No!’ I gasped. ‘No, good Lord no, of course not! No, I’m just on a bit of a health kick at the moment. Pregnant! Ha! What a joke!’
I lifted my tonic water to my nervous lips and realized my hand was shaking perceptibly. You idiot, Polly, for goodness’ sake be careful. If she finds out you’re carrying Sam’s baby she’ll probably finish you off right here and now. I surreptitiously sidled round the table a bit, wondering which way I should duck if she took a swing at me.
‘So how’ve you bin?’ she asked, convivially enough.
‘Fine, fine,’ I croaked, cranking up a smile.
She lit a cigarette and I watched enviously as the smoke flew in a perfect straight line over my head. I craned my nostrils skywards and inhaled deeply, hoping to catch a gratuitous whiff.
‘A-and you?’ I faltered, remembering my manners.
‘Oh, not so bad, up to me eyeballs in work, but there you go, better than being bored out of yer skull, innit?’
‘Yeah, yeah, I s’pose it is.’ Oh no, Polly, don’t slip into that again. ‘Yah, right,’ I brayed hastily, ‘absolutely nothing worse than being bored is there? Simply gha-a-stly.’
She looked at me carefully. I gulped. Now she probably thought I was taking the mickey. I flushed and threw back my tonic water, chucking most of it down my sweatshirt. She handed me a hanky.
‘Listen, Polly,’ she said as I mopped away, ‘I wanna ask you something.’
‘Oh yes?’ I croaked casually, studiously avoiding her eye.
‘You might think this is none of my business, but are you havin’ an affair wiv Sam?’
I gasped and looked up, eyes – hopefully – full of shock and horror.
‘Good Lord, no! Gosh, what a question – with Sam? Good gracious me, no, perish the thought, of course not!’
She eyed me speculatively. ‘What about that night in Annabel’s then? Or just after, to be more specific?’
‘Wh-what about it?’
‘Come on, I saw the way you were lookin’ at ’im. I saw you dancing wiv ’im too – you’d even started to take yer kit off; yer underwear was hangin’ out all over the place.’
‘It was a body,’ I muttered.
‘Well, whatever it was it was all over the shop, and you were definitely overexcited, practically had yer tongue round ’is tonsils. I couldn’t bear to watch so I went to the lav and when I came back you’d both dun a bunk. What did you do, slip off to a hotel or something?’
‘Oh God, Amanda …’
‘Well did you? Come on, I’m not gonna spit in your eye or anything. I just need to know, did you go off wiv ’im or what?’
I sighed. I couldn’t look at her. I was also beginning to suffer from the rather debilitating effects of sobriety. It had been a good eight hours since I’d had a drink. I picked up a beer mat and twisted it nervously in my hands.
‘Look,’ I muttered, ‘it was a big mistake, all right? I was incredibly drunk – we both were. These things happen.’ I licked my lips.
‘What things?’
I shrugged miserably. ‘You know …’ I sighed. ‘Yes, all right, we did go to a hotel. For the night.’ I looked up; her eyes were pinning me to the wall. ‘But, honestly, I didn’t have a clue what was going on – I was completely out of it. I mean, you were there – you must have seen how drunk I was. I promise you, Amanda, it wasn’t my fault!’
My voice sounded shrill, guilty. I avoided her eyes. I knew it, I knew it. She was in love with him; she was having an affair with him. She was the other woman, and as far as she was concerned I was the other, other woman. Well, the other, other, other woman, actually, counting Serena. There seemed to be rather a lot of us about.
She ground her cigarette out in what I considered to be an incredibly threatening manner, leaving both hands free for nail-flexing. I couldn’t help noticing that they were long, red and very sharp and I therefore took the precaution of cunningly placing both my feet to one side of my chair, thus poised for a quick getaway.
Amanda narrowed her eyes and nodded thoughtfully. ‘We thought it was you.’
I jumped. We? Hang on a minute, just how many other women were there? Did he have a harem or
something? How many concubines had I upset here, a dozen or so?
‘Drive up from Cornwall a lot, do you?’ she asked casually. ‘’Bout twice a week? Tuesdays and Fridays usually, innit?’ She gave a twisted little smile. ‘I’ll say this for you, Polly, you’ve certainly got stamina, hell of a long way for a quick bonk.’
She lit a fresh cigarette and blew the smoke over my head, but only just.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I spluttered, coughing a bit under the smoke. ‘I don’t come up to bonk Sam; I don’t usually come up at all actually, and anyway – what’s it got to do with you?’
That was brave, Polly, foolhardy more like. I clenched my buttocks and prepared to duck the left hook.
She smiled sardonically. ‘Fair enough, but just remember, we’ve got your number. We know what you’re up to.’
It was this we business that was so damned intimidating. Any minute now I expected a whole posse of women to appear at the table, fold their arms and glare threateningly at me.
Amanda frowned and shook her head. ‘We were really surprised when we found out it was you. I mean, there you are with that lovely bloke of yours and that bloody great house, and you go riskin’ it all for some two-bit affair. Whadja wanna do that for? You must be out of your head.’
‘I’m not! I don’t! For goodness’ sake, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m not having an affair with him, and anyway, what’s all this we lark, who else knows about this?’
‘Oh, just me and Sally,’ said Amanda calmly.
I gasped. ‘Sally? You’ve told Sally?’
‘She guessed.’
‘What – about you too?’
She frowned. ‘Whadja mean, about me too?’
‘Well, you’re having an affair with him, aren’t you?’
She stared at me. ‘What?’
‘You and Sam, you’re having a ding-dong, aren’t you?’
She looked at me in amazement, then abruptly threw back her head and hooted with laughter.
‘You must be joking! Me and Sam? Do me a favour, ’e’s my idea of a complete tosser!’ She hooted some more, then wiped her eyes. ‘No, I wouldn’t touch ’im with a bargepole, but Sally’s me best mate, you see.’
‘Your what?’
‘Yeah, we were at college together, shared a flat too.’
I stared at her. ‘So that’s why you kept giving him funny looks, I thought you were after him.’
‘After ’im? God, I’d run a mile in the other direction! No, I can’t stand the bloke and ’e knows it, which is why ’e goes all shifty when I’m around. ’E’s sussed out I’m on to ’im, you see, knows ’e has to be really careful when I’m around. Sally’s suspected for ages but ’e’s always denied it and she’s never been able to catch ’im out. ’E’s a clever little bastard, really covers ’is tracks.’ She grimaced at me. ‘Oh, you’re not the first, not by a long shot. Sally reckons ’e’s been at it for years but she’s never been able to prove it. ’E’s never slipped up before, you see, not once. Until now of course, until you.’ She blew another line of smoke centimetres above my head. ‘’E went a bit too far in public this time, didn’t ’e? Got a bit overconfident, like. So now we know.’
‘Oh no you don’t,’ I retorted, ‘you don’t know the half of it! I might have had a ghastly one-night stand with him but that was it! I am not, repeat not having an affair with him, you can believe what you damn well like but it’s the truth!’
She sighed. ‘Look, Polly, I like you, really I do, and I don’t wanna interrogate you, but Sally’s me mate, right? And she’s desperate for some information. You’d do the same in my position, wouldn’t you?’
‘Well, if it was absolutely necessary, but I’m telling you, Amanda, you’re way off the mark here – you’ve totally lost the plot. I’m not having an affair with him, but if you like,’ I paused slightly here for dramatic effect, ‘I can tell you who is.’
She frowned. ‘But I thought you just said you did go to a hotel and bonk the living day–’
‘Yes, all right, all right – I did, but it was just one night, that’s all. If you want to know who’s rocking his socks off on a permanent basis, I’ll tell you: it’s Serena Montgomery.’
‘Serena Montgomery? Don’t be soft,’ she scoffed.
‘It’s true, I promise you, at least we’re pretty sure it is.’ I rather enjoyed my own little ‘we’ there.
‘We?’
‘Yes, me and Pippa. He was careless enough to leave his Filofax lying around and we found a cute little picture of her in the back, together with a fair smattering of S’s in the lunch and dinner sections of his diary. She’s definitely your girl, Amanda.’
‘But ’e doesn’t even like ’er – at least …’
‘Exactly. As you said, clever little bastard, isn’t he? Even goes so far as to pretend he hates her.’
She frowned. ‘Now I come to think of it, out in Aswan …’
‘Come again?’
‘At the shoot on the Nile, ’e was always mouthing off at ’er for not knowing ’er lines and then draggin’ ’er off for private little rehearsals an’ that, raising ’is eyes to heaven as ’e went. But they didn’t appear again for hours on end …’ She stared into her drink. ‘And they were always goin’ off to check out locations together and – oh yeah, hang on, they both liked early nights, didn’t they! Did a lot of ostentatious yawning and then disappeared while the rest of us were still partying – damn, why didn’t I think of it before?’
‘Because you were too busy thinking it was me, I suppose.’
She looked surprised. ‘Yeah, I suppose I was.’ She had the grace to look abashed. ‘Sorry, Polly, been a bit hasty I suppose, but Sally’s in such a state, you see, always crying an’ that, and I really wanted to help her nail ’im this time. She’s had it up to here with ’is lies, she really has.’
‘Would she divorce him then?’
‘If she found out the truth, I reckon she might. Sally’s big problem has always been that she loves ’im too much, that’s why she’s never been able to leave ’im. She hides from the truth, see, kids herself ’e’s working late when ’e doesn’t pitch up till midnight, but just recently she’s been toughening up a bit, says she wants to know what ’e’s up to. I reckon if she actually had some cast-iron proof she’d do something about it, kick ’im out once and for all.’
‘And Sam wouldn’t want that? I mean, if he leads this extraordinary double life, why doesn’t he just leave anyway? What’s the point of staying with Sally?’
‘Because Sally’s got all the dosh, ’e’d be penniless.’
‘What?’
‘Yeah, Sam owes so much money it’s untrue. Sally’s ’is second wife, you see, ’e’s still paying maintenance to number one and putting ’is two kids from that marriage through public school.’
‘God, I had no idea. He keeps that very quiet.’
‘Well ’e would, wouldn’t ’e? Sally owns the house, the car, probably even the company. Her old man set Sam up when they got married, so there’s no way ’e’d be able to get his hands on that money. ’E’d probably have to pay maintenance too, ’cos Sally’s never really worked, and considering ’e’s completely stony broke ’e’d be in a bit of a pickle really, wouldn’t ’e?’
‘But surely his films, his career –’
Amanda scoffed. ‘Listen, Sam’s career is only going one way at the moment, down the bleedin’ plughole. ’E’s a nobody in the film world, a washout, a has-been.’
‘But I thought – God, I thought he was famous. I mean, he made that film – what was it called?’
‘Yeah, Marengo, a low-budget, culty little film that was a surprise hit about seven years ago, but ’e’s done bugger all since then apart from a series of major flops. Why d’you think ’e makes all these terrible commercials? Not exactly high art, are they? No, ’e’s desperate to claw some cash together.’
‘Gosh, I had no idea. He comes across as such a groovy film director.’
‘Well, that’
s his image, innit? ’E’s got to keep up the front, got to keep the girls in the dark, can’t have them knowing ’e’s just a sad old has-been, can ’e? I mean, let’s face it, that’s what you fell for, wasn’t it, the famous-film-director bit?’
I looked sheepish. ‘I suppose so.’
She shrugged. ‘Well, there you go.’ She stubbed out her cigarette. ‘But it’s a long way from the truth. My guess is ’e’s up to ’is eyeballs in debt and ’e’s absolutely terrified Sally’s gonna find out about all ’is indiscretions and haul him off to the divorce courts. Then ’e’d really be up the creek.’
‘Serve him right,’ I muttered. I remembered how I’d sat opposite him at lunch and listened to him telling me how crazy he was about me, how miserable he’d be without me. What a load of crap, he couldn’t care less about me; he’d just wanted a repeat performance of our sex-crazed night together. I shuddered.
‘Exactly’ – Amanda leaned forward eagerly – ‘serve ’im right. Listen, Polly, would you do something for me?’
I eyed her nervously. ‘What?’
‘Would you go and see Sally? Tell ’er about what happened to you?’
I nearly fell off my chair. ‘What! Go and see Sally? Amanda, you must be mad!’
‘Look, she’s not out for blood or anything, but she’s doin’ ’er nut trying to find out the truth and you’ve got – well, you’ve got first-hand experience, like, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, but I don’t particularly want to share it with his –’
‘And you could spill the beans about Serena too. I mean, let’s face it, at the moment she thinks you’re the one having the ding-dong with ’im so you could at least let yourself off that hook, put ’er straight on that score, as it were.’ She eyed me carefully. ‘I sort of think you owe it to ’er.’
I gasped. ‘I do?’
‘Well, you wouldn’t like it if someone bonked your old man, would you?’
‘Well no, but –’
‘Well then. Go on, Polly, you can do it.’
‘But – why can’t you? I mean, couldn’t you just report back, say you’ve seen me and –’
Going Too Far Page 33
