Naked Truths

by Karen Botha

  ‘You wouldn't have thought they were new, the style fits in so well, your Mum has great taste.’

  Resting my arms on the rails either side of her head I lean in and drop a swift kiss on her lips.

  ‘Be careful, I have an impression to make, can’t do that with lipstick round my face.’ She pulls me close with an arm around my waist, breathing out as we stand peacefully staring at the water as it ripples gently with a breeze.

  ‘We should attend the party,’ the clock is ticking forward and Paula and her friend Mo will he here soon. I have to play the part of the host.

  We return to the guests, but we’re too late, they’ve already arrived. I apologise for my bad form.

  ‘I’m so sorry, I was showing Lucy around and time vanished.’

  ‘It’s OK, we found them appearing lost and took care of them.’ I spin round and back-slap my brother.

  ‘Lucy, this is Wyndham, my much older sibling, and this is Penelope, his dear wife,’ the group smiles and shakes hands. Paula and Mo accept their glasses from Wyndham.

  ‘Thank you for the drinks,’ Paula says to Wyndham, ‘I must say, you guys certainly look alike, it’s uncanny.’

  We both nod our heads, we’ve been told this our entire lives.

  ‘I’m not that much older though, there’s only two years between us,’ Wyndham sets that particular record straight. ‘People would often get us mixed up when we were younger. More recently our paths have taken different directions. We don’t meet up enough, so things like hair cuts and fashion make us easier to tell apart,’ we both nod. Actually, what neither of us is saying, is Penelope has had a big part to play in that.

  Lucy has finished her drink, so I head off to the bar to grab her a replacement. Not for the first time tonight, I marvel at the cleverness of my Mum. Rather than have servers coming round with drinks resulting in glasses strewn all over the garden, she has a service area where empty drinks are replaced with new. I hear her in my mind, ‘no point making work,’ in the matter-of-fact way that is her trademark.

  Turning from the bar, I hear Lucy laughing with abandon at something Wyndham has said. She’s beautiful. I bury the flash of anger that she finds him funny and rush back to stake my claim on my girl.

  PAULA

  ‘It is going to be interesting.’ Mo squints out of the car window in the late afternoon sun.

  ‘Yeah, I couldn’t let a chance like this pass me by Mo.’

  ‘Totally agree. Wonder if he will be a different kind of guy on his home turf? Maybe I’ll be able to make more sense of the detached widower I saw being interviewed a few years ago…’

  ‘I think at the very least, we’ll get an insight into who the real Giles Harrington is,’ I say. ‘He won't be able to put as much of an act on with people who know him so well, particularly his Mother; even with the bunch of strangers in tow.’

  ‘We’ll keep our eyes peeled.’

  The band is a great touch, vibrant and welcoming from the off. We appreciate this as Lucy and Giles are nowhere to be seen. Mo and I hang around, unsure where to place our awkward limbs. I fiddle with the gold clasp on my clutch bag which took way too long to find before leaving. There's an unrecognisable bouquet, glancing down the ground is covered with a delicate mass of feathery, white petals.

  ‘That must be Wyndham, Giles’ brother,’ I nod towards him as discreetly as possible, ‘I saw his picture at their school, they are so similar.’ Wyndham must sense us considering at him as he turns and heads over.

  ‘Well, hello there, may I help you?’ he asks.

  ‘Oh, sorry, we’re guests of Giles, we’re friends with his new girlfriend, Lucy.’

  ‘Ach, I see. Do they know you are here?’

  ‘No, I’ve texted Lucy, but she probably doesn’t have her phone with her.’

  ‘No problem, let me get you a drink, is champagne OK?’

  I indicate with a slow nod, my approval of champagne, smiling at the offer, a sense of optimism soaring through my soul.

  Mo also replies, ‘Absolutely,’ grinning at Wyndham his white teeth glinting against the half light of the evening.

  ‘Oh, I’m Wyndham by the way, Giles is my brother, but you probably guessed that already,’ he swooshes an agile arm from his top to toe.

  With that, he returns briefly to his friends and places a gentle arm around the waist of a beautiful woman, presumably his wife. She’s dressed in an elegant scarlet dress - the simple kind which appears like it’s not fitted in the slightest, but actually underneath is corseted to the high teeth. He whispers in her ear then she mutters to the group and together they break away. My detective skills deduce this will be in the direction of the bar, and our champagne.

  Mo and I fidget a little more, unsure of what to do with our vacant hands.

  ‘I’d have thought he would have introduced us rather than just leaving,’ Mo hisses through a smile.

  ‘Makes me wonder if we’re not as welcome as we’d like to think.’

  ‘Well, at least we’re getting champagne in under thirty seconds.’

  ‘Yeah, and albeit small inroads, we’re still standing with the family,’ I observe the chatty group totally unaware of our presence. ‘Tonight could be great for so many reasons.’

  Whilst we wait, I take Mo in for the first time. He's hot tonight. He’s gone for the black tie option, and I have to say he pulls it off well. His usually unruly hair is groomed back giving him an air of sophistication I would not have deemed possible had I not seen it with my own eyes.

  After much consideration, I also played it safe, plumping for a long, onyx evening dress. My logic is, you’re always safe with black. Accessorising it was a problem. I don’t want to stand out for many reasons this evening, so the question of whether to go with sophisticated pearls, glitzy diamonds, (or crystals at least,) or keep it plain and simple was more salient tonight than any other.

  I went with plain.

  Besides which, I don’t have pearls or crystals, so that would have involved a shopping trip for which I didn’t have the inclination.

  Aha, there they are, ‘Hi,’ I make a discreet wave as Lucy and Giles emerge, hand in hand. They’re both glowing, the epitome of love. As they head back, I catch Wyndham and his wife, our very own drinks servers, also making their way in our direction. A circle of smiling faces surrounds us at once and we engage in polite conversation with strangers.

  It was only later that things started to hot up. I’d stopped drinking and was trying to get close to Penelope who had certainly not stopped drinking. I was driving so genuinely couldn’t consume too much alcohol, but it’s also impossible to remember who has said what, when I’m under the influence. Driving is always a good strategy.

  I’m quite pleased, I’ve already gleaned that Penelope and I live close to each other which could be helpful in the future. She is flirting with Mo somewhat who I have to say deals with it admirably, especially considering this is right under Wyndham’s nose. What I’m most interested in is her dissatisfaction with Giles.

  ‘He’s always got his head in a book. Impossible to have a conversation with half the time,’ she’s waving her empty champagne glass.

  ‘No I’m not, but I like to be constantly learning. Nothing wrong with that.’ His brow furrows and his eyes have narrowed somewhat.

  ‘No, of course not, if you’re going to use it to better yourself,’ she mutters to herself.

  At the same time, Giles tries to move the conversation on, ‘Anyway, how is work, Pen?’ She takes the bait.

  ‘Not bad thank you. Wish I was about more, I don’t see as much of my husband as I would like. Do you know, we sat down and had a chat the other night. We worked out that since February, so what’s that, around five months ish, we’ve spent only fifteen days together. Madness!’

  ‘That must be tough,’ Lucy interjects but I get the impression maybe it's the way Wyndham prefers.

  ‘It’s not all bad, at least we appreciate it when we are together,’ he charms his wife, k
issing her cheek. I drift off, wondering what could have gone on with these two. A little anger mixed with a cocktail of love and alcohol and the cracks surface. I’m sensing a possessive wife here, but it’s difficult to say when they literally do appear to spend weeks at a time apart.

  ‘You’re both away an awful lot with work then?’ I ask, because fifteen days is not a lot of time even for people who work away.

  ‘Well, our careers pull us in different directions, the TV business is in turmoil at the moment so Pen has commitments she can’t escape, but you can always guarantee that when one of us is home, the other is away. Our rule is if there’s nothing in the joint calendar, it’s up for grabs, either to do something together or independently with our friends,’ Wyndham explains.

  Penelope continues, ‘We need to plan better though. If we have three successive weekends where we are both in the UK with no work commitments, but we still don’t see each other, then it's a bit much.’

  ‘Point taken,’ Wyndham nods.

  ‘Do you like your own space?’ I ask Penelope trying to elicit more detail.

  ‘I’m used to it that’s for sure, and we do have our separate groups of friends, but it’s not a choice.’ She flicks a quick glance at Wyndham. 'He spends so long down in his office working, that even when we are at home together, we don’t see each other often,’ she pauses whilst she drifts off for longer than she’s probably aware. ‘He has been better over the last few years, but when he was first setting up his IT company, he’d be down there for weeks on end. I wasn’t allowed in of course, in case I messed anything up,’ she raises one eyebrow but attaches a smile which softens her suspicious gesture.

  ‘Ah well, absence makes the heart grow fonder,’ I say.

  ‘Yeah something like that,’ she throws her gaze upwards.

  I’ve got as much as I’m going to for now so I nudge Mo who is deep in conversation next to me with Giles. It must be strange for him chatting amiably with the person whose files he’s studied and police interviews he’s observed.

  They’re discussing religion of all things. Mo is a Muslim. It’s almost impossible for him to practice strictly and be established within the murder squad but, he still has strong beliefs about right and wrong.

  From what I’m hearing, Giles was brought up a Christian, Sunday school every week as a kid, bible classes and so on, but they’re getting on and agreeing on multiple points. It would appear that the common thread in all religions should be kindness. Upon the conclusion to all world problems, I interrupt.

  ‘Sorry to disturb your quite valid and deep thoughts there guys, but I have to make a move. You still want that lift Mo?’

  ‘Sure thing.’

  ‘Cool, well we’ll say our goodbyes then Giles, lovely to meet you again and thanks for the invite,’ I say.

  ‘No problem at all, I’m delighted you could attend, and you Mo,’ Giles replies.

  I hug Lucy tight, ‘Enjoy the rest of your evening,’ I whisper in her ear. I feel her face broaden against my cheek as she smiles.

  A few more hugs and handshakes and we’re off.

  LUCY

  Guests gradually disperse in direct correlation to the alcohol drying up. And so, with the party over, Virginia is fishing around the kitchen for something to feed Giles and I, despite us assuring her we’re not hungry. She’s having none of it. Head rooted in the fridge, she pulls out a selection of cheeses. She pairs them on the farmhouse table with an informal array of some of the best biscuits I’ve tasted.

  ‘These are delicious, Virginia,’ I compliment half way through my first biscuit. I hadn’t noticed my stomach rumbling, but it certainly had been. I'm ravenous.

  ‘No problem, it's only a few left overs. Actually, I have some grapes in the fridge somewhere,’ and she’s up again with the urgent efficiency I’ve heard precedes her, rummaging for the perfect accompaniments. Once found, she plops them on the table in their plastic supermarket bag. Her straightforwardness is refreshing.

  We chat a while, mostly gossip about the guests of whom I have little interest in, particularly when I’m tired at the end of such a fabulous day. Giles thankfully notices my lack of interaction with the conversation.

  ‘It’s time for some shut eye, Ma, thanks for a lovely evening, you never disappoint.’

  ‘Yes, thanks Virginia, it was a beautiful party, you must be very proud for organising such a spectacle.’

  ‘Ach, it’s nothing.’ She waves her arm dismissing my compliment. ‘I’ll show you up to your rooms and leave this for the clean up team tomorrow,’ she’s so uncomplicated. With that, we all dutifully troop to bed.

  ‘You’re not sleeping together,’ she announces.

  ‘Haha, glad we got that sorted then Ma.’ Thankfully Giles deals with that as I cringe, puce with shame. After the slow start we’ve had, I wasn’t expecting tonight to be the night, but I also was not prepared for his mother to make a point of it.

  Virginia has already turned on her heel and is disappearing down the stately landing, into what presumably is her abode.

  ‘Night Virginia, thanks again.’ I shout softly to her retreating back, she flings a hand up, says nothing.

  ‘This used to be my old room before I moved out,’ Giles leans on the door frame. ‘Obviously it wasn’t decorated like this then, bit too girly.’ He demonstrates his point with surprisingly good jazz hands.

  ‘It’s beautiful, where are you sleeping?’

  ‘Next one along,’ he winks as he points. We both laugh gently, conscious of the hour. ‘I’m only joking,’ he flicks me a cheeky grin. I understand and had even prepared myself, but I’m still a bit miffed. He kisses me on the cheek, hugs me to him and I drown in the warmth of his embrace. I breathe in the strength of his torso as he holds me near. His heartbeat quickens and I melt mine to his rhythm. He peels himself away before I’m ready, and heads off. When he reaches his accommodation, he stops, turns and waves to me as he enters. My chest fills with love for this pure gentleman. I reverse back into Giles' old den for the night and close the solid wood door gently. The catch clicks into the frame when I lean against it, wishing for the man of my dreams.

  The bedroom is gigantic, by far the biggest I have ever been in outside of hotels. I gaze around, admiring the panelled walls, now painted off white to give an illusion of extra light and space. Central to the room is a solid oak bed with a twisted post at each corner. I move over and stroke my hand against the smooth wood admiring the detail. There’s not a hint of dust.

  I slowly undress, placing my clothes on a pale blue upholstered chair by the window. The curtains are drawn. As I pad over and literally climb up in to this grand bed, I briefly speculate what the view will be like when I wake. The covers are cool as I snuggle down. I never iron my sheets, frankly I have other more interesting things to occupy my time, but this bed certainly makes an argument for it. It is somehow graceful to lie in it. Oh, and the mattress. It’s as rich as the Queen’s. I’d be willing to bet that beyond the layer of thick cotton, there’s reams of horse hair and lambs wool topped with cashmere, guaranteeing a divine nights’ sleep.

  I study the chandelier hanging towards the foot of the bed - this is a space that can take this large crystal fitting and still be tasteful. My eyes are losing focus, and the bright lights bounce hypnotic colours around the room.

  My mind drifts off to the events of this evening. It was nice meeting Wyndham although there was something about him that struck me as odd. Not sure what, he watched me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. I expect that will change once we're more familiar. Virginia certainly isn’t like that, wow, now she’s a breath of fresh air. Love her already, she has such a contagious energy.

  I nestle further under the covers and consider the surrounding room some more. In an alcove to my left, next to the large window are shelves stacked with books. I scan the titles, lots of thrillers and some more sinister about real life murderers, concocting the perfect murder and even one about faking suicide. Not a the
me that really goes well with this otherwise splendid place. It’s not something that lingers in my thoughts. Sleep is more pressing.

  PAULA

  Giles was a charming host. There’s no way around it. Mo agrees. He didn’t give a damn thing away. I’d not expected him to be naïve enough to show us all his cards in one sitting, but I had hoped that when in his safe environment, we may see more. A glimpse underneath the virtual Kevlar he uses to protect the real Giles Harrington. I need to do more digging, to be inventive.

  Penelope let slip that she does her supermarket shop every Saturday morning. So, off I head and half fill a trolley. I’ve been systematically browsing each aisle for about an hour before I spot her. I wait until she gets to the checkout and then take the next place in the queue behind her. My heartbeat pumps deep chords through my chest.

  ‘Penelope?’ I tap her lightly on the shoulder.

  She turns, a quizzical expression on her face, ‘Oh, hi, it’s Paula isn’t it?’ She screws her forehead up, searching her short-term memory.

  ‘Yeah, how are you?’

  ‘Ah, Saturday morning chores, keeps me grounded,’ she points to her shopping piled in categories on the conveyor belt.

  ‘Are you away again this week?’ I'm truly wondering why she’s not buying much.

  She smiles, ‘You guessed it, well Wyndham is anyway.’

  ‘Must be lonely, we should catch up, I’m a bit on my own too now Lucy has met Giles…’ I trail off.

  ‘Sure let’s,’ she agrees and so we exchange numbers and arrange a Wednesday evening get together.

  I’m clasping a chilled bottle of Petite Chablis close to my chest as I knock on her light blue composite door when Wednesday arrives. The droplets of condensation are starting to mark my top, so I move the glass down to my side taking care not to nudge my trouser pocket.