A Summer Fling

by Milly Johnson

  The champagne finished, they gathered up their coats and bags and moved next door to the Setting Sun. A beautiful Thai waitress in a blue kimono met them at the door with her palms pressed together in greeting.

  ‘Dinner for five in the name of Somers,’ said Christie and they were smoothly led over to a beautifully set table in the corner and given the biggest menus Anna had ever seen. It would have been quicker to read War and Peace.

  ‘Pad Prik Sod?’ Anna said dryly. ‘I’m not having any more pricks, thanks, I’ve had enough.’

  ‘Have a Poppia Poo then!’ Raychel snorted.

  ‘Pla Kraproa!’ Dawn contested, barely able to breathe for giggling.

  ‘Wank Cum Cock,’ said Anna.

  ‘You’re joking! Where’s that?’ said Dawn, laughing so much that the tears were running down her face.

  ‘I made it up, you dipstick,’ said Anna. ‘In honour of Wade.’

  ‘Oh stop it, I’m going to die,’ said Dawn. Her sides were sore from laughter.

  ‘Children, children!’ said Christie, in fake headmistress mode. Even Grace was giggling away. She was having a lovely evening. It made her think how much she had missed out on over the years, though.

  ‘OK, OK, we’ll be sensible,’ said Dawn, drying her eyes on a serviette. ‘Let’s be serious, now what are we ordering? Grace, you start us off.’

  ‘Pad Pong Galee,’ said Grace, as the youngest two started giggling again.

  ‘Will you behave!’ said Christie. ‘Honestly – it’s like taking a bunch of nursery kids out.’

  ‘I thought she said “Bad Pong Galee”,’ said Dawn. Anna’s face muscles ached. It felt so liberating to act her shoe size for once. Or rather, Tony’s willy size.

  Miraculously they managed to order their meals and drinks without collapsing again and relaxed into the merry warmth around the table. Dawn thought how nice it was to have a night off wedding preparations. She hadn’t realized until she let go of them for a little while just how much they were taking over her life. She took a long sip of sparkling water and felt the coolness spread inside her.

  Likewise, Grace savoured her glass of cold fizzy water too and let it swirl around and work on relaxing those parts of her that hadn’t rid themselves of tension since that horrible trip to the coast. A letter had arrived that morning offering a further 5 per cent off the Monte Carlo caravan model if they wanted to change and upgrade their choice.

  ‘Here’s hoping our horse-race win changes your fortune then,’ said Christie kindly to Anna.

  ‘Here, here,’ said Anna. ‘In fact . . . no, it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Oh go on, you can’t start something and then stop it,’ said Dawn. ‘I’m far too nosey for you to do things like that to me.’

  ‘Well . . .’ began Anna again. She really ought to tell someone about her visit to Vladimir Darq tomorrow, as a security measure if nothing else. ‘Something strange happened to me recently. This bloke followed me in the train station . . .’ And she proceeded to tell them the full tale.

  ‘Goodness me!’ said Grace. ‘He does live in Higher Hoppleton, though. I’ve read about him in the newspapers.’

  ‘Isn’t he the one that looks like Count Dracula?’ said Dawn.

  ‘Wow! A Transylvanian vampire in Higher Hoppleton,’ mused Christie.

  ‘You make it sound like the sequel to American Werewolf in London!’ said Dawn, with a snort.

  ‘Should I go, do you think?’ Anna asked.

  ‘Of course you must go,’ said Grace adamantly. ‘It’s just what you need: an adventure. Perfect timing on his part.’

  ‘But being on TV in my underwear? I’m not sure I could. And they always feel you up on those shows, don’t they?’

  ‘No one seems to complain when Gok Wan grabs their hooters,’ said Christie. ‘And I warn you, if the man gives you anything like a proper fitting service, you’re looking at something akin to invasive surgery.’

  ‘Oh God, no. Really?’ Anna paled.

  ‘Oh yes, you’ll have to strip off and let him look at you.’

  ‘Get away! You’re having me on.’

  ‘I am not, my love,’ said Christie, highly amused by the look of horror on Anna’s face.

  ‘Oh, just go for it. I mean, what would your alternative plans for the evening be?’ said Dawn. She wondered if gay men had good foreplay techniques. Calum was straight in there like Flynn usually, if the beer let him keep it up. Sex wasn’t that big a part of their relationship.

  ‘Fair point,’ conceded Anna for comic effect but still thinking inwardly, Bloody hell fire! Stripping right off! In front of millions of people. It was all a bit surreal. Her life was starting to make the world of Spongebob Squarepants seem normal.

  ‘Just be careful though,’ said Dawn, shaking her finger. ‘Those celebrities are all druggies. Don’t let them stick anything up your nose except a Vick’s Sinex nasal spray.’

  ‘I’ve never taken drugs and I’m not starting now,’ replied Anna vehemently.

  The Thai food was good and plentiful. They followed it with creamy ice creams and coffees.

  ‘What a lovely way this has been to round the week off,’ said Christie, popping the last half of her mint chocolate into her mouth. ‘We should do this again.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ said Anna. ‘I’ve had a great evening. Thank you all so much.’ She meant it too. Their company had given her spirits such a lift. She dreaded to think what her birthday would have been like had she been alone in the house.

  ‘Me too, I’ve had a smashing time,’ said Dawn. It was a nice change from the Crookes’ company. Their wit was so caustic and always seemed to involve slagging someone off, which could be uncomfortable to listen to sometimes, however funny their delivery.

  Yes, thought Christie. This evening had done them all good.

  ‘Well, happy birthday, Anniepoos,’ said Dawn and raised the last of her coffee in the air. Four other cups nudged against it. ‘May this day be the start of better times ahead for you.’

  Anna just wished she believed it could be.

  Chapter 29

  Calum was hungover the next morning and wouldn’t be shaken out of bed to go for his penguin suit fitting. Instead, Dawn drove to Meadowhall to look at some decorations for the tables at her reception. She played country and western music all the way there and back and sang out her heart to Tammy Wynette and her ’57 Chevrolet.

  Paul had a beautiful apartment on the posher outskirts of Sheffield which he had, luckily, paid a pittance for in an area that would see a triple return on his outlay. It was all money which would go towards Rose Manor when the time came for him to sell up. Grace rang the intercom and Paul buzzed her in cheerfully. He greeted her at his door, taking all the big bags of belated Easter eggs from her with good-hearted humour and his usual loving hug. She was pleasantly surprised to see Joe there with his uncle.

  ‘Hello, sweetheart,’ said Grace, giving her grandson a kiss on his head. He looked quite sorry for himself.

  ‘He’s got a bit of toothache,’ Paul whispered. ‘Laura’s just nipped out for some oil of cloves for him and milk for me. His big Uncle Paul is taking his mind off it by playing a game of cards. Aren’t we, Joey?’ He gave the boy an affectionate squeeze on his shoulder.

  ‘Paul, where are . . . oh hello!’ A tall, smart, incredibly handsome black man came into the lounge from the dining room.

  ‘Mum, this is Charles, meet Mum, Mum meet Charles, my business partner.’

  ‘Oh, hello,’ said Grace with a broad smile. ‘How lovely to meet you at long last.’

  ‘Mrs Beamish, delighted,’ said Charles in a beautifully plummy English accent. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

  ‘All good, I hope,’ said Grace, with a hint of a blush.

  ‘Every single word,’ said Charles.

  ‘Charles is an absolute sweetie,’ said Paul. ‘And a damned fine architect too.’

  Then a buzzer went and Paul’s intercom camera showed Laura holding up a four-
pint carton of milk.

  ‘She volunteered to go fetch it,’ said Paul. ‘We were gentlemen and offered but she wanted to cool off. She’s been ringing around for a dentist for Joe and getting nowhere.’

  When Laura came in, she gave Grace a big hug.

  ‘Calmer now, sweetheart?’ said Charles, pulling her to him and giving her a squeeze.

  ‘Oh, I see!’ said Grace.

  ‘We’ve just started courting, Mum. I was dying to tell you but I didn’t know if he’d want to see me again after the first date,’ said Laura.

  ‘I didn’t know if you’d want to see me after the first date,’ said Charles. ‘I was so nervous I spilled my wine all over her skirt.’

  Charles and Laura looked at each other sweetly and Grace couldn’t help but mirror their smile. What a lovely man, she thought. She just hoped it would last. Laura was a bit like poor Anna in the love department. She’d always had a rotten deal when it came to boyfriends, Joe’s father being the cherry on the cake. He had left Laura when she was five months’ pregnant, saying he had changed his mind about being ready to be a father (at forty-four) and had written himself out of the boy’s life before he was even born. Laura was well overdue some love and attention.

  Laura’s mobile rang and she grimaced on recognizing the number. She clicked the connection button.

  ‘Hi, Sarah . . . No, I can’t at the moment, I’m a bit busy trying to find a dentist for Joe . . . No, don’t know where she is . . . Oh, she hung up. I presumed you didn’t want me telling her you were here, Mum. Just for once, I insist that you don’t shoot off to rescue her; you’re having a late Easter lunch with us.’

  ‘Don’t tell me, she wanted someone to take Brat-Girl off her hands,’ said Paul.

  ‘Paul, that’s your niece!’ said Grace.

  ‘I know but . . .’ He didn’t have to say any more. Sable was a nightmare. Even Joe didn’t enjoy being in her company and young Joe was as placid as they came.

  ‘If Sarah can’t cope with one child why on earth did she get pregnant again?’ said Paul. ‘Rhetorical question, I know, but what a stupid thing to do. It’s not going to stop Hugo’s eye wandering, is it? In fact, quite the opposite, I would have thought, with two screaming, spoiled brats in the house.’

  ‘Three, you mean. Miaow,’ said Laura, uncharacteristically bitchy.

  ‘It can’t be easy for her,’ said Grace, feeling the need to redress some balance. She hated the fact there were more and more factions in this family which she had nurtured so carefully over the years. And she had always been so soft on Sarah who had been too young to have any memories of her real mother, unlike the other two who had at least something to savour of her.

  ‘I hope you aren’t thinking about leaving your job in order to be dedicated granny-babysitter,’ said Paul to Grace. ‘You’d better stay firm, Mum. You’ve done more than your fair share for all of us.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, you’re my family and I help where I can,’ said Grace. She loved Sarah, but the thought of being cooped up at home with two babies and Gordon made her feel as if she was drowning and they were weeds around her feet, pulling her further down and holding her in the water until her lungs burst. The more she struggled against them, the more they seemed to gain purchase.

  Laura put the kettle on. Paul had bought cakes and made sandwiches and picnic fare because he had decided they were going to have a high tea on his roof terrace. It was a summer haven up there, an organized chaos of plants and trellis and water-features.

  ‘So we’re all good for caravanning holidays in Blegthorpe then,’ said Paul, delicately popping a small pastry into his mouth and giving Grace a wink.

  ‘Oh, don’t even joke,’ said Grace wearily.

  ‘You and Dad, alone together 24/7 in a giant can. Lovely.’

  ‘Don’t ever retire, Mrs Beamish,’ said Charles. ‘That’s the key.’ Laura had obviously been filling him in with some details.

  ‘On that note, how’s the new boss?’ enquired Paul.

  ‘She’s a very nice woman,’ said Grace. She’d enjoyed the previous night more than she could ever have guessed at. It had been like throwing a dusty cover off her life and allowing a little fresh air to blow through it. ‘We all went out for a meal last night. I’ve never eaten Thai food before. It was beautiful.’

  ‘Good for you, Mum,’ said Paul. ‘I presume Dad didn’t have any objections?’

  ‘Goodness, Paul. He wouldn’t stop me going out anywhere.’

  ‘Apart from here. He wouldn’t like it if he knew you visited me,’ said Paul.

  ‘He must know that I do see you.’

  ‘Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he thinks you wouldn’t dare,’ said Paul, which awoke Grace to the idea that her son just might be right, even though she couldn’t admit it.

  ‘That’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Well, you won’t be able to go out with your new friends if you’re stuck in Blegthorpe!’ Paul wagged his finger at his mum.

  ‘You have to start saying no,’ said Laura. ‘No one’s ever said no to Dad, that’s the problem.’

  ‘I did,’ said Paul with a proud smirk. ‘Hence the reason why I am banished from the family home. He thinks I’ll be “cured” when I meet the right woman.’

  Grace was surprised Paul could laugh so objectively about that day. She knew how hurt he had been when he told his father he was gay, not hoping for endorsement, just acceptance, and Gordon had refused to listen, then stormed out of the house and said that Paul was to have left by the time he came back. In all the years they had been married, Grace had never heard Gordon swear before, but he more than made up for it that day. A stream of the vilest language came effortlessly from Gordon’s lips as if he had been possessed of an evil entity. Paul hadn’t let her step in to intervene. And if the truth be told, she was glad, because Gordon had scared her with his ferocity.

  She often wished she had been brave enough to walk out with Paul then.

  After that lovely interlude of lunch with one half of the family, Grace landed back on terra firma with a resounding bump. She came home to find Gordon wearing a path in the hall carpet. He was carrying a crying Sable whom he pushed into Grace’s arms as soon as she had walked in through the door.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ he demanded.

  ‘I told you, I went for a walk around the shops,’ she lied. She didn’t want to risk his reaction by telling him the truth.

  ‘Sarah’s been phoning you. Said it kept going onto voicemail.’

  ‘Oh, did it?’ Grace searched her bag to find her phone was switched off. She grimaced to discover there had been twenty-four missed calls: ten from her daughter and fourteen from Gordon. ‘I thought I’d left it on.’

  ‘Well, you obviously didn’t, did you? What’s the point in having a mobile phone if you switch it off when you’re out? She’s been having pains. She was thinking about going up to hospital!’

  ‘Oh goodness me.’ Grace felt panicked. ‘I didn’t . . . should we go up there? Have you rung?’

  ‘I had to go over and pick Sable up. Sarah was going for a lie-down and she said she’d ring if things got worse.’

  Grace immediately rang Laura on her mobile. Laura was remarkably unsympathetic and explained why.

  ‘Mum, I’ve just passed her in the car. She looked fine to me as she was pulling into the multi-storey in town. She’s having as many birth pains as I am!’

  ‘Are you sure it was her?’

  ‘Like there is any mistaking her flash numberplate!’

  Grace really was going to have to learn how to start saying no, before those weeds pulled her down any further and robbed her of her last breath.

  Chapter 30

  It was amazing the things that crossed your mind when you were standing in a pseudo Transylvanian castle having two men scrutinize your knockers at point-blank range, thought Anna. She wondered what Tony would think if he knew what she was up to. Would he have her bang to rights on grounds of adultery, even if the men in question w
ere gay?

  Leonid Szabo was small, slight, very camp in his gestures, and with his frilly shirt and long waistcoat he looked like Adam Ant in his highwayman days. In stark contrast, Vladimir Darq was looking very alpha male in slim-cut black trousers and the whitest shirt Anna had ever seen. She hadn’t realized what a big man he was. Not ridiculously tall, not in the least fat either, but wide-shouldered, large-chested and solid. He wouldn’t even have wobbled in a hurricane, that’s for sure. He wasn’t exactly classically handsome close up, with his pale skin, square jaw and thin, precise line of beard on it, but there was something very ‘man’ about him. Ironically so, given his sexual proclivity.

  His eyes were his second most striking feature: ice-blue with tiger flecks of gold in the iris. Probably contact lenses though, she decided, because they were far too strange to be natural. First prize had to go to the hint of fangs which she caught tantalizing glimpses of as his lips spread. Just small ones, not like those on sale in joke shops, but his canine teeth were definitely elongated all the same. And though she wouldn’t have put ponytails on her list of most desirable must-haves on a man, seeing as they were usually rats’ tails grown to lead the eye away from a fast receding hairline at the brow, his luxuriant, wavy black hair tied back behind him was straight out of Prince Charming land. All part of the dramatic charade of pretending to be a romantic vampire for the benefit of the press, no doubt.

  She’d arrived at the house in a black Mercedes which had drawn up outside her home exactly as her grandmother clock in the lounge was chiming 7 p.m. The Romanian driver was sullen and uncommunicative, but later it emerged that he’d had the excuse of not being able to speak much English. Black electronic gates gained them entry to a long drive on the outskirts of the cottagey village of Higher Hoppleton. They had pulled up in front of the biggest door Anna had ever seen, and it even opened with an Addams’ family-style creak. She half-expected to find Lurch behind it but there was only a much smaller man with a bald head and eyeliner whom she recognized immediately from the Internet as Leonid Szabo: the ‘friend’ of Vladimir Darq. The door opened out into a huge galleried room. Darq House was a new build made to look like it was a relic from the Middle Ages. With a mixture of clever architecture and trompe l’oeil painted walls, it looked eerily like a fifteenth-century vaulted castle.